morocco-bound: sworn in!

So this is it! PST is over, and all of us now PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) have dispersed to our sites.

The last few weeks at CBT were sort of strange--the fact that we were leaving kept sort of creeping up on me, and didn't seem real until we actually left. We wrapped up our training activities in the village with two environmental education lessons at the elementary school. We conducted almost the entire thing in Darija (with help from our LCF obviously), which was satisfying, and got some good feedback from the school. The lesson focused on being able to talk specifically about the effects of trash on the environment, and the kids seemed to enjoy it. They were remarkably engaged, and much more … energetic than I remember 3rd graders being during school at home.

Leaving Idelssane (now that we're not there, I think it's safe to write the name of the village) was sadder than most of us had expected. Both my host mom and Kristin's host sister cried, which I was sort of surprised by, and my family gave me a bag of their almonds and a water bottle full of olive oil (unclear.) Then we left for a full week of our last hub in Ouarzazate. We had a bunch of downtime, and I started to really appreciate the other trainees, especially the health volunteers--we'd been split into two different hotels on opposite sides of the city since the beginning of PST, so there were a lot of people I had barely talked to. I also gave 5 haircuts, pretty solidly I think (although you can ask Molly, Alex, Conor, Kristin, and Kristen.)

Lest I make it sound like all we did was hang out, we also had a bunch more training sessions and a language test. They test us in our "target language" at Swearing In, and then again after two months, six months, and right before we leave. The test is basically just a 15-minute oral interview (helpfully structured on the ACTFL guidelines, for my government-inclined friends) but that didn't stop everyone from freaking out about it. All we have to do to "pass" is reach the Novice High level, which is more or less just complete sentences, and even if you don't get there, you just promise to work harder and pass by PPST in two months. Anyways, I was happy when it was over.

Finally, we had Swearing In last Wednesday, which is when we officially became Peace Corps Volunteers (instead of trainees). Apparently, when it's been in Rabat in the past, all sorts of important people have attended, but Ouarzazate is really freaking far away from everything and over that hellish four-hour mountain pass I think I've described before. (If I haven't, suffice to say that I've taken copious Dramamine all four times I've been over it, and there have been a number of people on the bus who should've.)

so my Arabic-speaking friends can see how different Darija is

The ceremony was short, with a nice speech from Peggy, our Country Director, and acknowledgement of the LCFs and all the rest of the Peace Corps Morocco staff. Then was the part that I was super nervous for--they picked one person from each of the target languages (Darija, Tashelheet, and Tamazight) to give a five-minute speech in the language, and I had to do the Darija one. I think my speech was pretty lame, and I think only about two of the other PCVs understood it, but the Moroccans in attendance seemed to at least appreciate the effort.

And then we said an oath, and then we were PCVs. We all dispersed the next morning, whittling down from the big group of 57, to about 25 of us heading north over the High Atlas. Then in Marrakech, me and three others got on a train to Rabat, where we spent the night. The next morning me and Kristin split off and got on separate buses to our sites, and then I was on my own.

I'll save more about my site for my next post--I think I'll have plenty of time in the next two years to figure out how to describe it properly. For now, suffice to say that I am no longer busy all the time, and despite my continually limited internet access, I would certainly appreciate emails. I have also set being a good correspondent as one of my personal goals, so don't just read my blog and pretend you're keeping in touch with me--I want to hear about your lives, too. Love from the Maghrib.