I can hardly believe that it's been almost a year since I was in Morocco. Not a day goes by that I do not look back on the time that I got to spend there, feeling so thankful and often wishing that I could go back! However, I am thrilled to be preparing for a new adventure seeing a whole different side of Africa. In a little over a month, I will be heading to Cape Town, SA to be working at the Sizakuyenza Safe House and complete my IQP.
I am so grateful to all of the people who followed my blog last year in Morocco, who sent me emails, texts and letters of encouragement and support and who cared enough to take the time and read about all that I was doing and learning. I would love to have you share in my upcoming South African adventure as well! You can follow my travels at samanthaervinsa.blogspot.com!
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Monday, October 21, 2013
Coming Home
I arrived home safely last night! It is a great thing to be back! It was incredible feeling this morning to look out my window and see, for the first time, all the trees displaying their fall colors. It took my breath away. The last few days of our journey were busy finishing up projects and traveling, and having consistent internet was an issue, but I wanted to write at least one last post.
I guess the best way to express my feelings is through my journal entry from the plane:
_____
I'm sitting on the plane from Rabat to Paris, waiting for the final passengers to board. It's disappointing to see that the windows are fogged up, and the day is a little cloudy outside. I was hoping for one last good look, at least, of this country which I feel strangely at home in.
It doesn't seem like so long ago now that I was sitting on a plane awaiting takeoff from Boston, taking deep breaths to keep my tears at bay. The man next to me, an Indian guy who was incessantly chatty, was asking me all sorts of questions about who I was and where I was going. When I explained to him that I was going to Morocco to study for two months, he was amazed. "You are an adventurous person!" he had exclaimed. At the time, I wasn't feeling adventurous at all. I felt frightened and incredibly alone, entirely unprepared for whatever was to come. Looking back though I can see that this was the beginning of my adventure--and I think that many characters are scared when their journeys begin. It is how they handle the fear that determines how the story will go.
I have tried to use this trip as an opportunity to stop holding onto my fears and comforts so tightly, to gain some independence and to step out of the things that hold me back so that God can receive me, just me, and see in what ways He can use me. It's not that I have discovered my lifelong purpose in a bolt of lightning while in Morocco, although I wish it could have been that simple. I have learned some, however, about what it means to live intentionally, and that in order to find purpose in something I must really involve myself n it. This does not mean it will always be pleasant or easy to follow through, but I need to stop backing away from things as they get difficult.
We're taking off now. My heart feels heavy saying goodbye to the paradoxical beauty of this country. The sun is just starting to rise, and it looks like it will be a beautiful day.
I am already questioning whether or not the last two months were even real life. Morocco sometimes has an aura of fiction, in its exoticism and mystery. It's easy to think that my wanderings through the medinas of Marrakech and Fez were all a detailed, pleasant dream, that I did not really stand on the shores of the Strait of Gibraltar, or ride a camel while watching the sunrise in the Sahara, or study at a Moroccan university with some of the most interesting and wonderful people I have ever known. These last several weeks it is home that sometimes seemed like the non-reality, but I know that as I return Morocco will become the vivid memory that, in my mind, may or may not have actually happened.
I don't want to forget about the things that I have seen and done here, the people I have met and the things I have learned about the world, about God, and about myself. This trip has absolutely changed my life, and I don't want things to simply go back to the way they were.
I wish that I could write down every moment and detail that I have experienced, so that they could be bottled and kept for moments when I need to drink them up and reminisce about this time. Right now, I don't even know where to begin.
A popular catchphrase on our trip among the group has been YOMO, a play on the viral and rather annoying YOLO. (YOLO was coined by some rap song, with the message "you only live once.") Of course, our modification was replacing "live" with "Morocco": "You only Morocco once" (both grammatically and philosophically profound, to be sure). This has often been used as justification when we would do things that are out of the ordinary, out of our comfort zone, or simply something that we wouldn't normally do at home: like eating snails in Ifrane (they were disgusting), hiking up to the walls of Chefchaouan (a long walk but fro there you can overlook the entire city), or spending our last evening in Rabat wandering around the medina, even though the shops had closed and we were all very sleep deprived. Basically the mindset of YOMO is that if something is holding you back, let go of it, because this opportunity is not going to come again. I have tried to absorb every single moment of my time here to its fullest, knowing that I really have been in a once in a lifetime experience. I am praying that someday I can return to beautiful Moroco, but I know that it will never be the same as it has been this trip. It makes me sad, but also happy to have been a part of this special time; as Winnie the Pooh says, "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
With al that being said, I really am so excited to be going home! Seeing my family is going to be the greatest feeling in the world. Because no matter how far I am prone to wander, they will always be where my heart belongs.
_____
In closing of this blog (unless something hits me hard over the next few days and I feel the need to write about it, you never know!) I just wanted to say a big thank you again to everyone who has been reading this, praying for me, encouraging me, and thinking of me throughout my time in Morocco. I really could not have done this without you all. Like I said in my journal, this trip really has changed my life, and God used it in ways that I could not have imagined. Thank you for helping me through and reminding me of His goodness and love during the times that I let those things slip from my mind. I hope that my reflections in this blog have been an encouragement as well, sharing some of the lessons that He has been teaching me with you!
If you would like to talk to me more about my trip and my reflections, please feel free to let me know! (My information is under the "Contact" tab). I'd be happy to share!
Thank you all again, ma'salaama,
I guess the best way to express my feelings is through my journal entry from the plane:
_____
I'm sitting on the plane from Rabat to Paris, waiting for the final passengers to board. It's disappointing to see that the windows are fogged up, and the day is a little cloudy outside. I was hoping for one last good look, at least, of this country which I feel strangely at home in.
It doesn't seem like so long ago now that I was sitting on a plane awaiting takeoff from Boston, taking deep breaths to keep my tears at bay. The man next to me, an Indian guy who was incessantly chatty, was asking me all sorts of questions about who I was and where I was going. When I explained to him that I was going to Morocco to study for two months, he was amazed. "You are an adventurous person!" he had exclaimed. At the time, I wasn't feeling adventurous at all. I felt frightened and incredibly alone, entirely unprepared for whatever was to come. Looking back though I can see that this was the beginning of my adventure--and I think that many characters are scared when their journeys begin. It is how they handle the fear that determines how the story will go.
I have tried to use this trip as an opportunity to stop holding onto my fears and comforts so tightly, to gain some independence and to step out of the things that hold me back so that God can receive me, just me, and see in what ways He can use me. It's not that I have discovered my lifelong purpose in a bolt of lightning while in Morocco, although I wish it could have been that simple. I have learned some, however, about what it means to live intentionally, and that in order to find purpose in something I must really involve myself n it. This does not mean it will always be pleasant or easy to follow through, but I need to stop backing away from things as they get difficult.
We're taking off now. My heart feels heavy saying goodbye to the paradoxical beauty of this country. The sun is just starting to rise, and it looks like it will be a beautiful day.
I am already questioning whether or not the last two months were even real life. Morocco sometimes has an aura of fiction, in its exoticism and mystery. It's easy to think that my wanderings through the medinas of Marrakech and Fez were all a detailed, pleasant dream, that I did not really stand on the shores of the Strait of Gibraltar, or ride a camel while watching the sunrise in the Sahara, or study at a Moroccan university with some of the most interesting and wonderful people I have ever known. These last several weeks it is home that sometimes seemed like the non-reality, but I know that as I return Morocco will become the vivid memory that, in my mind, may or may not have actually happened.
I don't want to forget about the things that I have seen and done here, the people I have met and the things I have learned about the world, about God, and about myself. This trip has absolutely changed my life, and I don't want things to simply go back to the way they were.
I wish that I could write down every moment and detail that I have experienced, so that they could be bottled and kept for moments when I need to drink them up and reminisce about this time. Right now, I don't even know where to begin.
A popular catchphrase on our trip among the group has been YOMO, a play on the viral and rather annoying YOLO. (YOLO was coined by some rap song, with the message "you only live once.") Of course, our modification was replacing "live" with "Morocco": "You only Morocco once" (both grammatically and philosophically profound, to be sure). This has often been used as justification when we would do things that are out of the ordinary, out of our comfort zone, or simply something that we wouldn't normally do at home: like eating snails in Ifrane (they were disgusting), hiking up to the walls of Chefchaouan (a long walk but fro there you can overlook the entire city), or spending our last evening in Rabat wandering around the medina, even though the shops had closed and we were all very sleep deprived. Basically the mindset of YOMO is that if something is holding you back, let go of it, because this opportunity is not going to come again. I have tried to absorb every single moment of my time here to its fullest, knowing that I really have been in a once in a lifetime experience. I am praying that someday I can return to beautiful Moroco, but I know that it will never be the same as it has been this trip. It makes me sad, but also happy to have been a part of this special time; as Winnie the Pooh says, "How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard."
With al that being said, I really am so excited to be going home! Seeing my family is going to be the greatest feeling in the world. Because no matter how far I am prone to wander, they will always be where my heart belongs.
_____
In closing of this blog (unless something hits me hard over the next few days and I feel the need to write about it, you never know!) I just wanted to say a big thank you again to everyone who has been reading this, praying for me, encouraging me, and thinking of me throughout my time in Morocco. I really could not have done this without you all. Like I said in my journal, this trip really has changed my life, and God used it in ways that I could not have imagined. Thank you for helping me through and reminding me of His goodness and love during the times that I let those things slip from my mind. I hope that my reflections in this blog have been an encouragement as well, sharing some of the lessons that He has been teaching me with you!
If you would like to talk to me more about my trip and my reflections, please feel free to let me know! (My information is under the "Contact" tab). I'd be happy to share!
Thank you all again, ma'salaama,
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Catching Up (Again) and Some Farewells
Once again, I'm going to have to apologize for not writing in a while! I've been traveling a lot recently (just got back from 4 days in the Sahara, which was absolutely incredible! Check out the pictures!) and had finals and projects to finish last week for my classes, as well as my independent project which I will be completing tomorrow! On top of everything, the AUI campus is basically shut down this week due to the Eid al Adha holiday--so the internet was not working until late last night. But I'm back!
And just in time... I only have 2 days left here in Morocco. It's hard to believe that my time here is coming to a close. On Friday we had to say most of our goodbyes to our Moroccan friends, many of whom were going home for Eid. It is a strange thing to know that you are likely seeing someone for the last time ever. Lives overlap sometimes for such a short period, make there impression and then move on. I wish I could say that I know I'll see Othmane again, or Alae and Asmaa, or the other friends I have made on campus. Seven weeks is such a short time to be here, and a great part of me wishes that I could share life with some of these beautiful hearts for a longer time, getting to know them better than the little that I have. I guess I can only hope that my short time here has made some positive impression on them, and that I can remember the great impressions that they have made on me: Asmaa's smile lights up a room, and she makes you feel a little more loved and happy whenever you see her. Alae has such a sweet spirit, and Othmane (although he was quirky and drove me crazy sometimes!) was so generous and hospitable to us, even having us in his home in Fez for a weekend and helping us find a place to stay when we went to Asilah. I hope that I can keep up with these and some of my other newfound friends, and I know I will remember them for a very long time.
I have to go now, but I plan on writing in more detail about our trip to the Sahara very soon!
Til later,
Friday, October 4, 2013
5000 Camels
Only 16 days left in this beautiful country. I never really expected that the time would go by fast... but it has been. Sorry for not keeping up with writing so much, I keep busy between my classes and project work, but even more with making friends and exploring here.
One of the highlights of the trip so far was a couple weekends ago, when myself and 4 other WPI students were invited to spend the weekend with the family of one of our Moroccan friends. He lives in Fez with a brother, sister, parents, and maid who all immediately made us feel right at home. I know I go on and on about Moroccan hospitality and how wonderful it is... nothing has really compared to the experience we had that weekend! Even though there were some delays in our arriving and we didn't get to their home until past 10:30pm, there was a hot dinner waiting to be served to us as soon as we arrived. (There was also amazing breakfasts each morning and one of the best couscous dinners that we've had yet the following day!) Every effort was made for us to be as comfortable as possible, and the Zakhnini family once again reminded me of the importance of making someone feel welcome. Even though we couldn't say too much to each other (Othman, our friend from AUI who hosted us, is the only one in his family that speaks English) there was a connection made that has left an impression on me and I don't think I will ever forget.
This past weekend, we took a seven hour bus ride through winding, bumpy mountain roads until we arrived in our weekend destination--Marrakech. This is the "trendy" Moroccan city that would probably be the visual picture that comes to mind when one would picture this country. Stereotypical images have been played up to attract tourists in Marrakech, so not everything you see is necessarily authentic... but walking through a square full of snake charmers and performing monkeys, with the sounds of traditional music and the calls of shopkeepers selling souvenirs, a mosque looking over the scene... It's hard to experience this and remember that you're still in real life. It all feels like a fantasy.
Our time in Marrakech was mostly spent exploring and shopping, after some brief tours of historical sites in the morning with our AUI guides. Almost every shop that we walked by housed a shopkeeper calling out to us advertising his low prices and quality items available for purchase. Some of them took it a step further, giving us little gifts from their shop or asking us all about where we are from. (I was shopping with my friends Cassie and Tony; Cassie has fair skin like I do and red hair, and one of the shopkeepers thought that we were two Irish girls :) ) There was even a carpet seller who made us tea and sat with us for almost an hour talking about school and our respective lives, and of course about carpets. But there was one shopkeeper who's marketing method surpassed them all....
Cassie and I were looking for scarves to buy as gifts for friends and family at home, when the owner--a man with a long curly beard wearing traditional Moroccan dress--came from the back of the store and took my arm, offering to show me some scarves in the back of the shop which are meant to be worn kind of like turbans. He said I didn't have to buy anything, just that he wanted to show me how the scarf was meant to be worn. I chose a color from the spectrum hanging on the wall, and he began to tie it around my head and neck... He said he thought the color of the scarf was pretty with my eyes. Then he offered 5000 camels to marry me. Well, that escalated quickly. I was terribly embarrassed and we laughed a lot as I tried to explain reasons why I couldn't marry a Moroccan scarf-seller who I had just met. Cassie then tried on a headscarf as well, and was also offered a marriage proposal... Needless to say we bought the scarves, but passed on the engagement :)
Although we are all having an incredible time, homesickness has begun to glaze over all of us. Part of me wishes that we could stay here forever, but I am also getting so excited to return home and see everyone! I really am enjoying my time here, and I've gotten so close with the group it will be so sad when we aren't just one big happy family anymore. But at the same time, I am ready to get back home and start up real life again. Partially because I really miss so many things. I miss church on Sundays, I miss singing, I miss peanut butter, I miss my bed and my clothes, I miss having a room to myself, I miss being able to communicate with the people around me in a language I speak fluently. I miss toilet paper in public bathrooms. I miss seeing the news and driving and eating cereal. I miss Starbucks in the morning on the way to school with Chandler, and I miss Bella's hugs and long conversations with my mom, and my dad waking me up every morning. I miss my friends and our crazy escapades. I miss the feeling of knowing that where I am is home.
In the meantime, I still plan to make the most of the time that I have left here! This weekend we will be doing some traveling up north which I am really looking forward to. I also have two projects and classes to finish up next week... Should be a busy time but I'll try to write more when I get a chance.
Til later,
One of the highlights of the trip so far was a couple weekends ago, when myself and 4 other WPI students were invited to spend the weekend with the family of one of our Moroccan friends. He lives in Fez with a brother, sister, parents, and maid who all immediately made us feel right at home. I know I go on and on about Moroccan hospitality and how wonderful it is... nothing has really compared to the experience we had that weekend! Even though there were some delays in our arriving and we didn't get to their home until past 10:30pm, there was a hot dinner waiting to be served to us as soon as we arrived. (There was also amazing breakfasts each morning and one of the best couscous dinners that we've had yet the following day!) Every effort was made for us to be as comfortable as possible, and the Zakhnini family once again reminded me of the importance of making someone feel welcome. Even though we couldn't say too much to each other (Othman, our friend from AUI who hosted us, is the only one in his family that speaks English) there was a connection made that has left an impression on me and I don't think I will ever forget.
This past weekend, we took a seven hour bus ride through winding, bumpy mountain roads until we arrived in our weekend destination--Marrakech. This is the "trendy" Moroccan city that would probably be the visual picture that comes to mind when one would picture this country. Stereotypical images have been played up to attract tourists in Marrakech, so not everything you see is necessarily authentic... but walking through a square full of snake charmers and performing monkeys, with the sounds of traditional music and the calls of shopkeepers selling souvenirs, a mosque looking over the scene... It's hard to experience this and remember that you're still in real life. It all feels like a fantasy.
Our time in Marrakech was mostly spent exploring and shopping, after some brief tours of historical sites in the morning with our AUI guides. Almost every shop that we walked by housed a shopkeeper calling out to us advertising his low prices and quality items available for purchase. Some of them took it a step further, giving us little gifts from their shop or asking us all about where we are from. (I was shopping with my friends Cassie and Tony; Cassie has fair skin like I do and red hair, and one of the shopkeepers thought that we were two Irish girls :) ) There was even a carpet seller who made us tea and sat with us for almost an hour talking about school and our respective lives, and of course about carpets. But there was one shopkeeper who's marketing method surpassed them all....
Cassie and I were looking for scarves to buy as gifts for friends and family at home, when the owner--a man with a long curly beard wearing traditional Moroccan dress--came from the back of the store and took my arm, offering to show me some scarves in the back of the shop which are meant to be worn kind of like turbans. He said I didn't have to buy anything, just that he wanted to show me how the scarf was meant to be worn. I chose a color from the spectrum hanging on the wall, and he began to tie it around my head and neck... He said he thought the color of the scarf was pretty with my eyes. Then he offered 5000 camels to marry me. Well, that escalated quickly. I was terribly embarrassed and we laughed a lot as I tried to explain reasons why I couldn't marry a Moroccan scarf-seller who I had just met. Cassie then tried on a headscarf as well, and was also offered a marriage proposal... Needless to say we bought the scarves, but passed on the engagement :)
Although we are all having an incredible time, homesickness has begun to glaze over all of us. Part of me wishes that we could stay here forever, but I am also getting so excited to return home and see everyone! I really am enjoying my time here, and I've gotten so close with the group it will be so sad when we aren't just one big happy family anymore. But at the same time, I am ready to get back home and start up real life again. Partially because I really miss so many things. I miss church on Sundays, I miss singing, I miss peanut butter, I miss my bed and my clothes, I miss having a room to myself, I miss being able to communicate with the people around me in a language I speak fluently. I miss toilet paper in public bathrooms. I miss seeing the news and driving and eating cereal. I miss Starbucks in the morning on the way to school with Chandler, and I miss Bella's hugs and long conversations with my mom, and my dad waking me up every morning. I miss my friends and our crazy escapades. I miss the feeling of knowing that where I am is home.
In the meantime, I still plan to make the most of the time that I have left here! This weekend we will be doing some traveling up north which I am really looking forward to. I also have two projects and classes to finish up next week... Should be a busy time but I'll try to write more when I get a chance.
Til later,
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Really Old Rocks
This weekend, we traveled to Volubilis; the ruins of an ancient Roman city. Its earliest of these ruins date back to 8000-6000 BC, and was that capital of Mauritania until it was incorporated into the Roman Empire in 40AD. (Translation in my mind: it's really, really old.)
I'm not sure if I gave the ruins all the appreciation that they were due (4 hours is a long time to be admiring ancient rocks), but as I was walking around Volubilis, all I could think of was how someday this would be me. Throughout my life, I am building monuments. Some of them are worthy, some of them are frivolous. Some will crumble and fall apart in just a few weeks, months, or years, others will last me a lifetime, others still may even outlive me. Which monuments are the ones that am I focusing on?
The world average lifespan is a little over 67 years (according to this) which means that I have 24,528 days to make my mark on the world (more or less). Someday, when people walk through the ruins of what was my life, what impressions will they have? Will I have left positive monuments, or anything memorable at all?
Maya Angelou once said "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." The ruins that are left of me someday I want to be the ones that people can't forget, because they felt Christ's love through me. My aim has always been to be a girl who loves God and loves others, above any other aspirations I have in my life. Those are the the kind of monuments I want to leave behind.
I was also thinking, as our guide prattled on with interesting facts of life in Volubilis tons of years ago, of how fascinating it is that rocks last such a long time. Everything else about the city that once was is gone now--the cloth has frayed, the wood has rotted, the valuable items have been stolen. But the rocks, the things that were carved in stone, those are the things that have remained. Some of the rocks that I walked on or looked at this weekend have been there for more than five thousand years. Those are REALLY OLD rocks. But the rocks don't move, they don't break, they don't crumble and disappear into dust. The lyrics of an old hymn came into my mind...
"On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand..."
Everything that I own in my life is going to be gone someday. No matter how much money I make, no matter how famous I am, no matter what level of "happiness" I reach (by the world's standards)... eventually its all going to be forgotten among the ruins of my life. The things that will last, the things that will be remembered, are the things that are built in the Rock.
Til Later,
I'm not sure if I gave the ruins all the appreciation that they were due (4 hours is a long time to be admiring ancient rocks), but as I was walking around Volubilis, all I could think of was how someday this would be me. Throughout my life, I am building monuments. Some of them are worthy, some of them are frivolous. Some will crumble and fall apart in just a few weeks, months, or years, others will last me a lifetime, others still may even outlive me. Which monuments are the ones that am I focusing on?
The world average lifespan is a little over 67 years (according to this) which means that I have 24,528 days to make my mark on the world (more or less). Someday, when people walk through the ruins of what was my life, what impressions will they have? Will I have left positive monuments, or anything memorable at all?
Maya Angelou once said "I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." The ruins that are left of me someday I want to be the ones that people can't forget, because they felt Christ's love through me. My aim has always been to be a girl who loves God and loves others, above any other aspirations I have in my life. Those are the the kind of monuments I want to leave behind.
I was also thinking, as our guide prattled on with interesting facts of life in Volubilis tons of years ago, of how fascinating it is that rocks last such a long time. Everything else about the city that once was is gone now--the cloth has frayed, the wood has rotted, the valuable items have been stolen. But the rocks, the things that were carved in stone, those are the things that have remained. Some of the rocks that I walked on or looked at this weekend have been there for more than five thousand years. Those are REALLY OLD rocks. But the rocks don't move, they don't break, they don't crumble and disappear into dust. The lyrics of an old hymn came into my mind...
"On Christ the Solid Rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand..."
Everything that I own in my life is going to be gone someday. No matter how much money I make, no matter how famous I am, no matter what level of "happiness" I reach (by the world's standards)... eventually its all going to be forgotten among the ruins of my life. The things that will last, the things that will be remembered, are the things that are built in the Rock.
Til Later,
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Updates, Reflections... and A Significant Lack of Toilet Paper
Sorry I haven't written anything new in a while! I've sat down and begun to write several times, but haven't been able to actually finish a post (hopefully until now).
Things are going really well, overall. I have settled into my classes here (Arabic II and History of the Arab World) and am developing my humanities project. I have made friends, Moroccan and other international students, and am building relationships with the others in my group. I have also done some traveling this past week (pictures can give you updates on that as well!) Last Thursday I went to an orphanage in Meknes, with a group of WPI students whose project is the development of an art and music program for the children at the orphanage. It was a beautiful place and I had a great time meeting some of the children and "playing" basketball with them ("playing" because basketball and I don't really get along so well..!) Almost all of the orphans here are boys, girls get adopted quickly but boys are, I was told, considered more troublesome and thus are not as often adopted. It made me sad, but the orphanage seems like a safe place for them with a very familial atmosphere.
This weekend we went on our first weekend excursion, to Fez. It is the third largest city in Morocco and was an incredible place. One of the things that blows my mind about this country is how it has managed to remain so timeless. Wandering through the alleys of the medina, there are points where you wouldn't be able to say if you were here in 2013 or a hundred years before. The medinas are often what people think of when they picture Morocco, streets crowded with people and shops lining either side selling lanterns and carpets and spices. Occasionally we would have to press against the wall and let a mule go by, made even more difficult by the fact that it was often thrice its normal width (because it was so heavily laden with cartons of soda or piles of fabrics). Walking through such a busy and narrow place as a group of 20 Americans is quite the ordeal as well. We got our share of gaping stares and whispers, but we were also met with so much kindness. Our guide, an AUI professor, is friends with a man who owns an antique shop in the medina. We went there and looked around his shop, he shook hands with all of us and sat us down on couches; he couldn't say enough how happy he was that we had come and made us all steaming glasses of tea. Only a short time later, after buying a few things in another shop, the women who worked there asked us if they could make us tea as well. From my experience, Morocco is far less hostile than it is hospitable...
We also had the opportunity, in Fez, to visit a Jewish synagogue. Although the percentage of Jews in Morocco is very small, Moroccans are actually a prominent part of the Jewish population (they are one of the main reasons that the Arabic Hebrew is considered "correct" over the European). I wish that we had been able to meet a Moroccan Jew while we were there, how interesting it would be to get their perspective on this country. Although the religious differences here are less prominent than I expected, I'm sure that for a non-Muslim living in Morocco is very difficult. Islam permeates so much of daily life here. An interesting thing that I have noticed, even in the cities, is that the buildings are never more than four or five stories high; the minaret (part of the mosque, like a church steeple) is always the highest point in a town or city. At one of the many vista points along the roads here, you can always see the minaret high above the rest of the town, and the sound of the muezzin's call to prayer permeates every street. My Moroccan cell phone has an application to give you an alarm for prayer times. There is no pork to be found, anywhere. Women, especially older women, are usually wearing veils (although here on campus this is not so common.) Although many of these things play out more as social characteristics rather than religious ones, it is just a few examples of the way that faith is integrated in the everyday culture. It makes me wonder how things would be if the gospel spread throughout this country. Would many of these cultural distinctions change? Would they need to?
At this point, I'm sure you're wondering about my odd choice of a title for this post.
So, every country has its quirks. Many people who have traveled to other nations for any length of time (particularly an extended period) come across these idiosyncrasies that don't really have an explanation, it's just the way things are. The discovery of these usually comes with some misadventures and cute stories to tell your friends when you get back home. A few of the ones that we have run into here are the sense of "Moroccan time" (similar to Guatemalan time, for anyone who has been on those trips!) Basically, things run at a much more relaxed pace here than in America. They also serve coffee in flimsy plastic cups and there isn't really such a thing as peanut butter. But one of the most prominent cultural quirks, in my experience so far, has been the significant lack of toilet paper in nearly every Moroccan bathroom.
I don't mean this to be gross, only to be frank. My first realization of this was when we stopped at a gas station on our way from Rabat to Ifrane and my friend Kirsten and I went to the restroom. Two of the stalls were "normal," with regular toilets, but two of them were literally just holes in the ground
(looking like this). I, of course, not knowing that they were different, went into one of these and was immediately at a total loss for what to do. I quickly went out and washed my hands, waited for Kirsten and saw that the stall she had gone into had a normal toilet, and used that! But I was grateful that Fatiha, one of our guides, had given me a roll of toilet paper "just in case." Since then, I have found that almost all bathrooms in public places, and even in the homes that we have visited, do not have toilet paper. All of us now carry around a package of tissues or even just a roll of toilet paper in our bags, because you never know whether or not the bathroom you will be using has any!
I know this is kind of a nasty thing to blog about! But the significant lack of toilet paper here in Morocco made me think about the many things that I take for granted in my privileged American life. This is a third world country, and although most of the areas that I have visited have been the wealthier parts, it is still very evident that people here do not have all the things that we are used to in America. Morocco has an illiteracy rate that is around 50%. Charity is an important aspect of the Islamic faith, but I have still seen poverty here.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I love helping people. Having been exposed to the developing world at a fairly young age (I visited Guatemala for the first time when I was 11, and was forever changed), I love and admire those that the world considers poor. I have learned so much from their patience, joy, and resourcefulness. But I am constantly getting caught up in material things, forgetting that the world is so much bigger than new clothes or the latest iPhone. I am SO BLESSED by God, He has given me far more than I could ever deserve. I only want to use it all for Him... "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matt 6:21) I want my treasure and my heart to be beyond the things that I take for granted and the things I wish I had. I want to be more conscious of the gifts that God has given me (even things like toilet paper!) and to treat everything I have as a blessing. Imagine how different my life would be!
I read something this morning that reminded me of how blessed I am:
If you have food in your fridge, clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of the world. If you have money in the bank, your waller, and some spare change, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy. If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million people who will not survive this week. If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the agony of imprisonment or torture, or the horrible pangs of starvation, you are luckier than 500 million people alive and suffering. If you can read this message, you are more fortunate than 3 billion people in the world who cannot read at all.
This really put things in perspective for me. Hopefully my ramblings and crazy analogies are making sense (I'm learning from the strangest things here!), and that you can take some time today to appreciate the "toilet paper" in your life--things you take for granted that not everyone in this world has, and treat it as a blessing!
Til later,
Things are going really well, overall. I have settled into my classes here (Arabic II and History of the Arab World) and am developing my humanities project. I have made friends, Moroccan and other international students, and am building relationships with the others in my group. I have also done some traveling this past week (pictures can give you updates on that as well!) Last Thursday I went to an orphanage in Meknes, with a group of WPI students whose project is the development of an art and music program for the children at the orphanage. It was a beautiful place and I had a great time meeting some of the children and "playing" basketball with them ("playing" because basketball and I don't really get along so well..!) Almost all of the orphans here are boys, girls get adopted quickly but boys are, I was told, considered more troublesome and thus are not as often adopted. It made me sad, but the orphanage seems like a safe place for them with a very familial atmosphere.
This weekend we went on our first weekend excursion, to Fez. It is the third largest city in Morocco and was an incredible place. One of the things that blows my mind about this country is how it has managed to remain so timeless. Wandering through the alleys of the medina, there are points where you wouldn't be able to say if you were here in 2013 or a hundred years before. The medinas are often what people think of when they picture Morocco, streets crowded with people and shops lining either side selling lanterns and carpets and spices. Occasionally we would have to press against the wall and let a mule go by, made even more difficult by the fact that it was often thrice its normal width (because it was so heavily laden with cartons of soda or piles of fabrics). Walking through such a busy and narrow place as a group of 20 Americans is quite the ordeal as well. We got our share of gaping stares and whispers, but we were also met with so much kindness. Our guide, an AUI professor, is friends with a man who owns an antique shop in the medina. We went there and looked around his shop, he shook hands with all of us and sat us down on couches; he couldn't say enough how happy he was that we had come and made us all steaming glasses of tea. Only a short time later, after buying a few things in another shop, the women who worked there asked us if they could make us tea as well. From my experience, Morocco is far less hostile than it is hospitable...
We also had the opportunity, in Fez, to visit a Jewish synagogue. Although the percentage of Jews in Morocco is very small, Moroccans are actually a prominent part of the Jewish population (they are one of the main reasons that the Arabic Hebrew is considered "correct" over the European). I wish that we had been able to meet a Moroccan Jew while we were there, how interesting it would be to get their perspective on this country. Although the religious differences here are less prominent than I expected, I'm sure that for a non-Muslim living in Morocco is very difficult. Islam permeates so much of daily life here. An interesting thing that I have noticed, even in the cities, is that the buildings are never more than four or five stories high; the minaret (part of the mosque, like a church steeple) is always the highest point in a town or city. At one of the many vista points along the roads here, you can always see the minaret high above the rest of the town, and the sound of the muezzin's call to prayer permeates every street. My Moroccan cell phone has an application to give you an alarm for prayer times. There is no pork to be found, anywhere. Women, especially older women, are usually wearing veils (although here on campus this is not so common.) Although many of these things play out more as social characteristics rather than religious ones, it is just a few examples of the way that faith is integrated in the everyday culture. It makes me wonder how things would be if the gospel spread throughout this country. Would many of these cultural distinctions change? Would they need to?
At this point, I'm sure you're wondering about my odd choice of a title for this post.
So, every country has its quirks. Many people who have traveled to other nations for any length of time (particularly an extended period) come across these idiosyncrasies that don't really have an explanation, it's just the way things are. The discovery of these usually comes with some misadventures and cute stories to tell your friends when you get back home. A few of the ones that we have run into here are the sense of "Moroccan time" (similar to Guatemalan time, for anyone who has been on those trips!) Basically, things run at a much more relaxed pace here than in America. They also serve coffee in flimsy plastic cups and there isn't really such a thing as peanut butter. But one of the most prominent cultural quirks, in my experience so far, has been the significant lack of toilet paper in nearly every Moroccan bathroom.
I don't mean this to be gross, only to be frank. My first realization of this was when we stopped at a gas station on our way from Rabat to Ifrane and my friend Kirsten and I went to the restroom. Two of the stalls were "normal," with regular toilets, but two of them were literally just holes in the ground
(looking like this). I, of course, not knowing that they were different, went into one of these and was immediately at a total loss for what to do. I quickly went out and washed my hands, waited for Kirsten and saw that the stall she had gone into had a normal toilet, and used that! But I was grateful that Fatiha, one of our guides, had given me a roll of toilet paper "just in case." Since then, I have found that almost all bathrooms in public places, and even in the homes that we have visited, do not have toilet paper. All of us now carry around a package of tissues or even just a roll of toilet paper in our bags, because you never know whether or not the bathroom you will be using has any!
I know this is kind of a nasty thing to blog about! But the significant lack of toilet paper here in Morocco made me think about the many things that I take for granted in my privileged American life. This is a third world country, and although most of the areas that I have visited have been the wealthier parts, it is still very evident that people here do not have all the things that we are used to in America. Morocco has an illiteracy rate that is around 50%. Charity is an important aspect of the Islamic faith, but I have still seen poverty here.
Anyone who knows me well knows that I love helping people. Having been exposed to the developing world at a fairly young age (I visited Guatemala for the first time when I was 11, and was forever changed), I love and admire those that the world considers poor. I have learned so much from their patience, joy, and resourcefulness. But I am constantly getting caught up in material things, forgetting that the world is so much bigger than new clothes or the latest iPhone. I am SO BLESSED by God, He has given me far more than I could ever deserve. I only want to use it all for Him... "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matt 6:21) I want my treasure and my heart to be beyond the things that I take for granted and the things I wish I had. I want to be more conscious of the gifts that God has given me (even things like toilet paper!) and to treat everything I have as a blessing. Imagine how different my life would be!
I read something this morning that reminded me of how blessed I am:
If you have food in your fridge, clothes on your back, a roof over your head and a place to sleep, you are richer than 75% of the world. If you have money in the bank, your waller, and some spare change, you are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy. If you woke up this morning with more health than illness, you are more blessed than the million people who will not survive this week. If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the agony of imprisonment or torture, or the horrible pangs of starvation, you are luckier than 500 million people alive and suffering. If you can read this message, you are more fortunate than 3 billion people in the world who cannot read at all.
This really put things in perspective for me. Hopefully my ramblings and crazy analogies are making sense (I'm learning from the strangest things here!), and that you can take some time today to appreciate the "toilet paper" in your life--things you take for granted that not everyone in this world has, and treat it as a blessing!
Til later,
Saturday, August 31, 2013
Scalene Triangles
The most often repeated commandment in the Bible is "Do not fear." It's in there over two hundred times. That means a couple of things, if you think about it. It means we are going to be afraid, and it means we shouldn't let fear boss us around. Before I realized we were supposed to fight fear, I thought of fear as a subtle suggestion in our subconscious designed to keep us safe, or more important, keep us from getting humiliated. And I guess it serves that purpose. But fear isn't only a guide to keep us safe; it's also a manipulative emotion that can trick us into living a boring life.
--Donald Miller
A couple days ago I learned something pretty insightful in one of the unlikeliest of places.
As I've mentioned before, along with meeting Moroccan students I have made friends with several other international students. One of these is Rafael, a recently married college student from New Orleans. I met him while waiting for our interviews in Arabic during placement exams and now when we see him around, we say hello and sometimes he comes to chat a bit. A couple days ago I noticed the tattoo that he has on his arm, just above and on the inner curve of his elbow. It is a tattoo of two scalene triangles (just in case you aren't familiar with what they are), one red and one blue. I asked him about it, if it had any special significance or meaning to him. His answer was "I like triangles." In further conversation, he explained how his girlfriend (now his wife) wanted to get a tattoo and he agreed to get one with her, and decided that two triangles would be cool. And so he got two scalene triangles tattooed on his arm (his wife also got two triangles, although hers are equilateral). The story is quite random and getting triangles as a tattoo is quite the rash decision, but Rafael is a rather spur of the moment kind of person. Although this attitude could easily be taken to an unhealthy extreme, I found his philosophy convicting and profound.
Triangles are cool. Why not just go for something rather than over thinking it, adding it to the enormous To Do list of things that never get done? I am a person full of ideas but don't have much when it comes to follow through. (If I actually did everything I think would be great to do or that I say I will do "at some point"--which usually means never--they would have made a movie about me by now.) I easily get distracted and caught up in the mundane, whatever is most comfortable for the moment, forgetting about the goals that I've set for myself, the commitments that I have to others, and the purpose that I have to glorify Christ. So I was really impressed to see someone who decides to do something, impulsive as it is, and then actually goes for it. Does this mentality probably get Rafael into predicaments? I'm sure that it does. But I bet he rarely has to wonder about the what if's and if only's that I constantly face.
This is one of the biggest lessons, so far, that Morocco has taught me. Life is precious, time is precious, and God is offering me an opportunity within every day. I don't want to be standing before Him wishing I had gone for it, that I had relished each minute for all it was worth, that I had taken the chances that were given to me, that I had lived a story worth remembering that could inspire others and honor Him.
In order for that to happen, I need to make myself more uncomfortable more often. This was reiterated in me today as I was reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years (the quote at the beginning of this entry was taken from this). I'm learning that I'm a person full of fear, and my biggest fear is that I will be uncomfortable. The day I left for Morocco, I was wishing for all I was worth that something would break the plane or my passport would go missing or a meteor would crash from the sky, anything that would cause an obstacle so I would have a legitimate excuse not to go. Coming here is probably the scariest thing that I have ever done, because I am not comfortable here. I'm constantly reminded that things here are foreign. But there have been moments in these past couple weeks where I have felt more keenly alive than ever before. Fear makes us real, and overcoming it is one of the greatest feelings in all the world. There is definitely such a thing as discretion and I need it, but at the same time I don't want to let fear trick me into leading a mundane life anymore. It blows my mind that over 200 times in Scripture it says "DO NOT FEAR." It must be pretty important. But coming to think of it, God could do such incredible things in me, things I can't even wrap my head around, if He could show me how to stop letting fear get in the way.
So, I highly doubt that coming out of this trip I will be getting tattoos of triangles on my arm. But hopefully I will be living a little more intentionally in my day to day life. Just one more Donald Miller quote to finish off:
If I learned anything...it's that there is a force in the world that doesn't want us to live good stories. It doesn't want us to face our issues, to face our fear and bring something beautiful into the world. I guess what I'm saying is, I believe God wants us to create beautiful stories, and whatever it is that isn't God wants us to create meaningless stories, teaching the people around us that life just isn't worth living.
Face our fear, and bring something beautiful into the world.
Til later,
--Donald Miller
A couple days ago I learned something pretty insightful in one of the unlikeliest of places.
As I've mentioned before, along with meeting Moroccan students I have made friends with several other international students. One of these is Rafael, a recently married college student from New Orleans. I met him while waiting for our interviews in Arabic during placement exams and now when we see him around, we say hello and sometimes he comes to chat a bit. A couple days ago I noticed the tattoo that he has on his arm, just above and on the inner curve of his elbow. It is a tattoo of two scalene triangles (just in case you aren't familiar with what they are), one red and one blue. I asked him about it, if it had any special significance or meaning to him. His answer was "I like triangles." In further conversation, he explained how his girlfriend (now his wife) wanted to get a tattoo and he agreed to get one with her, and decided that two triangles would be cool. And so he got two scalene triangles tattooed on his arm (his wife also got two triangles, although hers are equilateral). The story is quite random and getting triangles as a tattoo is quite the rash decision, but Rafael is a rather spur of the moment kind of person. Although this attitude could easily be taken to an unhealthy extreme, I found his philosophy convicting and profound.
Triangles are cool. Why not just go for something rather than over thinking it, adding it to the enormous To Do list of things that never get done? I am a person full of ideas but don't have much when it comes to follow through. (If I actually did everything I think would be great to do or that I say I will do "at some point"--which usually means never--they would have made a movie about me by now.) I easily get distracted and caught up in the mundane, whatever is most comfortable for the moment, forgetting about the goals that I've set for myself, the commitments that I have to others, and the purpose that I have to glorify Christ. So I was really impressed to see someone who decides to do something, impulsive as it is, and then actually goes for it. Does this mentality probably get Rafael into predicaments? I'm sure that it does. But I bet he rarely has to wonder about the what if's and if only's that I constantly face.
This is one of the biggest lessons, so far, that Morocco has taught me. Life is precious, time is precious, and God is offering me an opportunity within every day. I don't want to be standing before Him wishing I had gone for it, that I had relished each minute for all it was worth, that I had taken the chances that were given to me, that I had lived a story worth remembering that could inspire others and honor Him.
In order for that to happen, I need to make myself more uncomfortable more often. This was reiterated in me today as I was reading A Million Miles in a Thousand Years (the quote at the beginning of this entry was taken from this). I'm learning that I'm a person full of fear, and my biggest fear is that I will be uncomfortable. The day I left for Morocco, I was wishing for all I was worth that something would break the plane or my passport would go missing or a meteor would crash from the sky, anything that would cause an obstacle so I would have a legitimate excuse not to go. Coming here is probably the scariest thing that I have ever done, because I am not comfortable here. I'm constantly reminded that things here are foreign. But there have been moments in these past couple weeks where I have felt more keenly alive than ever before. Fear makes us real, and overcoming it is one of the greatest feelings in all the world. There is definitely such a thing as discretion and I need it, but at the same time I don't want to let fear trick me into leading a mundane life anymore. It blows my mind that over 200 times in Scripture it says "DO NOT FEAR." It must be pretty important. But coming to think of it, God could do such incredible things in me, things I can't even wrap my head around, if He could show me how to stop letting fear get in the way.
So, I highly doubt that coming out of this trip I will be getting tattoos of triangles on my arm. But hopefully I will be living a little more intentionally in my day to day life. Just one more Donald Miller quote to finish off:
If I learned anything...it's that there is a force in the world that doesn't want us to live good stories. It doesn't want us to face our issues, to face our fear and bring something beautiful into the world. I guess what I'm saying is, I believe God wants us to create beautiful stories, and whatever it is that isn't God wants us to create meaningless stories, teaching the people around us that life just isn't worth living.
Face our fear, and bring something beautiful into the world.
Til later,
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