And that's the way we get by:

My last post was certainly not my most positive. And I just want you guys to know that I'm not dying over here or anything, struggling, but not dying. Some days are bad (like when I find a nest of earwigs in my house and can't come out from under my covers because it's too cold) and others are good (like when I go into Tiznit and can feel my toes again). When I wrote my last post, I'd had a few bad days in a row and it showed, but those feelings were true then and it's staying up. I think the best analogy for Peace Corps is a roller coaster, when you're up, you're up and when you're down, you're dowwwn, but every once in awhile you get to cruise along for a bit.

So this week I went into Tiznit for a few days to celebrate Thanksgiving with some other volunteers and finally do some work (unbelievable, right?). I stayed in a hotel and showered and was warm when I slept and there are just no words for how much that helped my mood. Then I headed into another volunteer's site for our dinner and work. Dinner was really simple and pretty amazing. We got roast chicken from a restaurant in Tiznit, made some mashed potatoes and stuffing (courtesy of my family back home), and fried up some green beans. See:

Not bad for our first turkey-less Thanksgiving.

Then we went over to the dar taliba (girl's dormitory) in this other volunteer's site to do activities with the girls that stay there. There are about 20-25 girls that stay in the dormitory during the week because they live too far away from the school to travel every day and unfortunately they don't have a lot to do there but sit in their rooms. So we played musical chairs with them, which was a HUGE hit. They were dancing, cracking each other up, and getting super competitive which was so great to see in girls. The south of Morocco is pretty conservative and it really shows in how girls are treated. Then we (well, the volunteer in our region that speaks fluent Arabic and can actually communicate) explained to them Thanksgiving and all of the girls went around and said what they were thankful for. Most popular answers: us (little suck-ups!), God, their friends and family, and being able to go to school. Then we were getting ready to leave and the woman in charge of the dar taliba stopped us and told us we weren't to play games with the girls anymore because it was too loud and disruptive, from here on out we can only teach English. :/ We're going to try to go over her head, but we'll see how that goes...

And to end this post, like the girls we visited yesterday, I think I should take some time to remember what I'm thankful for:

• my family and all the wonderful care packages they send
• my friends back home and their patience in listening to me rant about the same things over, and over
• my amazing Peace Corps friends who are always willing to talk about poop
• my site-mates who feed me way more than they should, but are also probably keeping me alive (bacon bits, however tasty, are not dinner)
• hot showers when I can get them
• the patisserie in Tiznit that has AMAZING peanut butter cookies
• thermal underwear
• and every once in awhile, being here in Morocco

Sisyphus v. the Rock (also known as, this is a really long post...)

From just reading my blog, I think I've probably hinted at or directly said a couple of times that Peace Corps has been pretty challenging for me and in ways I didn't really expect (eg, turkish toilets are, in fact, not the end of the world). And if you like real life know me, then you've definitely heard every thought I've had about this experience. But, I've never actually come out in a public format and said I am hardcore struggling. And honestly, I am.

I had access to decent internet last week and some time to kill and ended up searching for blogs about volunteers that decided to ET (early terminate their service/quit). I promise I'm not quitting yet, but ever since I got back from America it's been in the back of my mind and every once in awhile the front too. Especially since the first thing I did when I landed in Morocco was look up job openings back in DC. Which luckily put everything into perspective. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life and I still kind of hate DC. Anyway, I was reading these blogs about volunteers that decided to quit, those that almost quit but didn't, and one about a guy who was medically separated for refusing to speak English once he got to country (dude was either brilliant or completely batty). And it really helped, just being able to read about what was going through other people's minds during the tough times of their service. So I thought I'd try being super honest and letting you all know what's really going on over here. Just in case there's another volunteer out there that's going through a rough patch and maybe googling how to get medically separated or maybe considering finally learning Tash so she can refuse to speak English and get sent home...

So here's what's really going on with me:
I have done no work. None. Part of this is my fault and part of it is Peace Corps fault. I had a last minute site placement with little to no development for a health volunteer and was put in a region where volunteers traditionally struggle with the community (ask other Moroccans and even they will tell you, people down here are tough). I also never leave my house. Part of this is just my personality and part is my community. Again, if you real life know me, you know I'm not an outgoing person. I don't invite myself into people's lives, which is kind of necessary to integrate into my community. But like I said, my community is tough. They're not particularly inviting to strangers and while never hostile to me, they also never invite me over for tea or meals, the keys to Moroccan integration.

Then there is the sexual harassment from men. It's always there even if it hasn't moved into assault. There are stares, guys crossing the street just to get a better look, cat calls, inappropriate questions/comments, and just general creeperness. This, I really haven't dealt with well at all. Sometimes I feel guilty about it. Like not having actually been assaulted, just harassed, means I have no right to be upset. I mean when you hear some of the horror stories other volunteers have been subjected to, it seems down right silly to complain about a little harassment. Other times I am so angry I literally shake with it. I mean what gives these guys the right?! I am covered, my hair is pulled back, I have no make-up on, I don't make eye contact, and still all they see is a Western whore. I'm pretty sure nothing in my life has made me as angry as that does sometimes. And as much as I'm not outgoing, I like to think I'm a pretty nice person. I like to smile and laugh and engage with people when they're nice to me. But here, with men, even little old men like my market owner (because I know he has sons), I have to hold back. Like if I smile too big or laugh too loudly at something it could be construed as an invitation for harassment. Which is ridiculous. Sometimes I feel like Morocco is stealing who I am.

And then there's Morocco itself. Sometimes it's hard to keep the motivation when you feel like all your work is for nothing, that all your blood, sweat, and tears for 27 months are really just you killing time. I think no matter how realistic or cynical the people in my training group claim to be (including me), we all at least had one moment before we left of how our service would go: we'd be in Africa, feeding starving children, seeing the difference we're making right before our very eyes. But that's not really Morocco. Obesity, high blood pressure, and diabetes are the problems here, not hunger. The work that needs to be done here, I think, needs to be done on an institutional level or with the kids --> which is thankfully what Peace Corps is moving to. That's not to say that work being done by current and previous volunteers isn't worth something, it's worth everything. But to me it's not the most effective way of helping. When you go into a community and try to teach nutrition and hygiene and the local doctor reuses needles and the nurse tells breast-feeding mothers to fast during Ramadan, you aren't going to be listened to. Of course, the people are going to listen to their respected professionals over a foreigner kid, fresh out of college, who isn't even married(!). So for some volunteers I think it feels like fighting a losing battle. When it comes to work in my site, I'm kind of conflicted. I don't really know what to do. I went to my clinic in the beginning, but they had no idea what to do with me and also didn't seem to really want to work with me. I explained what I could do and they sat me out in the lobby and shut their office doors. I've been waiting on the permission form I turned in in July to get processed so I can start working in the schools, but as far as I know that still hasn't happened. So I'm heading to the local school this week to see if they'll let me in anyway. Other than that, I still haven't really done anything. Sometimes I blame myself and sometimes I blame Peace Corps. I'm not sure if it's my fault for not being more in my community's face or Peace Corps' fault for putting me in a site where people are kind of like "ehhh... whatever".

Basically this has all led to a kind of sucky couple of months. I don't want to quit Peace Corps, but I can't help thinking that I'm maybe just wasting my time. That instead of struggling over here for another 18 months, I could be back home, going to school, seeing my friends, working, doing something. But I'm also scared I haven't given it my all here yet, that'd I have so many regrets if I went home now. And thanks to Peace Corps and their many hand-outs, I know this is the point of service where morale is generally lowest. Everything I've described above is apparently pretty typical for volunteers to be feeling at the 8-12 month mark. I wish I could say what's keeping me here, but I think it's only not being able to make a concrete decision about leaving or staying right now. That and the other volunteers in Morocco. There's some amazing people over here and a real sense of community and support that you don't see often. So I'm giving myself until mid-December to see how I feel and then if nothing's changed I plan on talking to Peace Corps and seeing if maybe I'd be better off in a different site. I'm not sure I have a case for it, but we'll see. Until then, I'm going to keep reading trashy romance novels, re-watching Indiana Jones (hello, new fictional boyfriend), and killing the earwigs (EWW!) and spiders that have taken over my apartment. And luckily December should go by pretty quickly, I've got IST (In-Service Training) on the coast near Rabat and Christmas in Madrid to look forward to. And then, of course, there's the Bandy in January. So good things too.

"The struggle itself...is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." - Albert Camus

Eight Months in Lmaghrib:

A few things: one, I've been in country exactly eight months now (that's practically a third of the way through!), my new computer has some faaaancy software and posting pictures is way easier than coming up with an actual post with you know, words and stuff, and I maybe have insomnia.

Anyway, enjoy some pics from my first eight months in Morocco! 

In which Alisa explains her service in the form of song:

I just posted this on my facebook, but I don't want to forget about it so I'm posting it here too. It's hilarious, awesome, and also completely true. Kind of nice to know that every volunteer feels this way.

You're gonna poop in a hooooooollleeee...

PS

I'm also back from my trip to the USA. I don't think I'm going to blog about it because just recalling all the awesomeness that is America hurts my heart.

In which Alisa makes a list of all the things she's going to do in MERIKA:

In just two short days I will officially be back on American soil and I am soooo excited. God bless you, Britany Skipper and your wedding, for getting me back home. :)

So here's a list of all the things I've been daydreaming about doing once I get home:

1. Showering without a bucket, but with constant hot water and water pressure. 
2. Finally getting all the shampoo out of my hair.
3. Washing my clothes in a washing machine and not just swirling them around in a tub of soapy water.
4. Walking around at night and not being considered a prostitute.
5. Walking around with guys and not being considered their prostitute.
6. Not being considered a prostitute.
7. EATING BACON.
8. EATING SOME MORE BACON.
9. Drinking in public and not feeling the least bit of shuma (shame).
10. Wearing real clothes (assuming my parents can ever find them, yes, I'm looking at you, Mother) and not bled clothes.
11. Driving a car.
12. Having a drink with ice in it. It's been 7 months since I've had ice.
13. Talking to people and having them understand what I say.
14. Using a western toilet.
15. Not having to check my sheets for cockroaches or camel spiders before I go to bed.

America is going to be AMAZING.

PS

So I don't really talk much about what's going on over here. I know that. But it's mainly because there's not a lot going on yet. I'm hoping once I get back from the States I'll be able to start teaching in the schools and will have more interesting things to say. Until then I can tell you about one of the more positive experiences I've had lately. 

I went into Tafraoute (my "big" city, where my post office and bank, etc. are) to keep my site-mate company until his bus to Fes came. I was wandering around and went into a store for a local Argan cooperative to look for souvenirs for all of y'all and met the nicest lady. For people in other regions of Morocco, I realize this experience will be pretty common, but for down South it's downright rare. Anyway, my site-mate and I introduced ourselves and spoke a little Tashelheit and that got the lady started. Then my site-mate left to check on his bus and I stayed with the lady and she had a full on conversation with me (not just "Hi, How are you, Are you fine?" which is normally all you get down here). She showed me how to crack Argan nuts and laughed at how bad I was at it, imitated a goat so I would know what kind of animals ate the nuts (side-note: this is one of my absolute favorite things about Moroccans. As long as you don't get a "Walu! Tsnt walu! (Nothing! You know nothing!)" person, Moroccans will generally go above and beyond to make sure you understand them, even so much as making what Americans would generally consider a fool of themselves, but for people with less than stellar language skills (like me) it's the farthest thing from foolish and beyond appreciated.), and promised me she would teach me Tashelheit anytime I wanted. Unfortunately, she doesn't speak a lick of English, so I'm not so sure that's going to work out, but she still made my week. 

From five star to five dollar...

Before I joined Peace Corps I used to work for an awesome non-profit in DC. Most of my time was spent doing leftover finance and event planning work for a scholarship program that was building a pretty exciting university in the Middle East. This meant I got to travel a lot. And in style. There were business class and sometimes first class (I somehow managed to get bumped a few times) plane rides, five star hotels, and fancy food. There was also absolutely no sleep, crazy stress from doing my best not to get screamed at by our nutty counterparts, and so many damn boxes that needed lugging across continents. Now I stay at five dollar hotels, pick bugs out of my salad and keep on going, and cram myself into taxis and souk buses (sometimes with cockroaches). But I've also actually had the time to see and enjoy some of the most beautiful sunsets, experience the genuine kindness of people I can barely communicate with, and to truly appreciate all the little things I never did before.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this, other than it's funny how life can change so drastically and how easily we can adapt to anything. Maybe that's one of the big lessons I'm supposed to learn from this experience. 

In which Alisa talks about Ramadan:

Disclaimer: Just because I'm not participating in Ramadan doesn't mean I don't have a lot of respect for my neighbors for fasting every year and especially this year. 

For Muslims, Ramadan is a month of fasting (this means fasting from food, liquids, smoking, everything) from sun-up to sun-down in order to remind them of humility, submissiveness to God, and patience. Ramadan is based on the Islamic calendar rather than the Gregorian so it changes every year. Unfortunately, this year it fell during the hottest month possible: August. So just to be clear, all the Moroccans around me are abstaining from eating or drinking water for about 15 hours a day during 120 degree heat.

For good Peace Corps Volunteers, Ramadan is a month of experiencing a new culture and religion by participating in the fasting or making sure to break fast in the evenings with the people in their communities. It's probably also a time of introspection and self growth.

For Alisa, Ramadan is a month of going slightly batty. Because Moroccans are fasting all day, their energy levels are greatly depleted so they tend to sleep most of the day. This means transport is almost non-existent, shops are only open waaaaay early in the morning and for about an hour or two before sunset, and the rest of town is pretty much shut down. Because I can't leave my house at night (guys in my region tend to think women out at night are prostitutes) I only have about a two hour window where I can actually leave my house during the day. So I've spent the past month in site (new record!) catching up on bad movies and tv shows, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches without the bread because I always forget to buy it, waging war against the lizards and spiders in my house (Ramadan also seems to be the month of critterly invasions), reading trashy romance novels that I am beyond ashamed of, and daydreaming about my fictional boyfriend: Dr. Gregory House.

In my defense I'm not a completely horrible volunteer for not breaking fast with more families. People in my town are really reserved and typically don't just invite strangers into their house, much less talk to them other than the standard head nod and "Salam. Lebes? Lehamdallah. (Hello. You're fine? Praise Allah.)" I could break fast with my host family but honestly I'm terrified of the epic food poisoning I got there, so I'm thinking I'm going to wait until after Ramadan to visit them (visiting a Moroccan family during Ramadan = you will be stuffed full of food until you can't ever move again). I did manage to get invited to my site-mates' host family's house to break fast last week and since they've never given me food poisoning, I was pretty happy about the invitation. When the sun goes down Moroccans break their fast with a meal called lfdur (aka breakfast, get it?). For my meal with the Saidis this included my favorite Moroccan dish, askif (a really hearty soup with eggs, chickpeas, tomatoes, chicken, and sometimes lentils or pasta), dates, croissants, cheese, couscous with roasted peppers and chicken, tea, and fresh figs and grapes for dessert. I've never had fresh figs and didn't expect to like them because I've only ever had dried figs and those taste too much like Fig Newtons for my liking, but fresh figs are AMAZING. Why do we dry them in America?! Our country's palate is in need of serious examination if we can take a fruit that tasty and make into a nasty Fig Newton instead.

So that's been Ramadan for me. It'll be ending in about a week and a half and then hopefully I'll actually get to start some work. I've also got a lot of travel coming up, so it may be awhile before this gets updated again. In September I'll be going to Agadir for a regional meeting and Ouarzazate for a Volunteer Support Network (peer to peer counseling for Volunteers) training. In October I'll be going to Fes for a TEFL training and then to the wonderful, wonderful USA for my Britany's wedding! 

In which Alisa gets serious:

According to my good friend (code name Panda) my spirit animal/patronus (PC is full of Harry Potter nerds -- including me) is a flying squirrel, because at first I seem all cute and sweet and then I do something BA like fly (or drink lots of really crappy vodka).

But these past few months I've felt the very opposite of BA. Instead I've felt mostly guilty. Guilty that I don't automatically love Peace Corps and Morocco. Guilty that I'm still not so secretly hoping for evacuation. Guilty that I'm not integrating at the speed Peace Corps expects me to and guilty that I still have no freaking idea how to start or do work here.

But it's sort of hitting me that even if I'm hiding in my 50 dirham hotel room, eating pasta salad made from canned veggies, and facebook hating all of you in America, I'm still at least a little BA. Because every time I and any other female volunteer leave our houses we have to deal with ridiculous male machismo harassment and that takes strength. Something as simple as buying plates for my new apartment requires riding a souk bus for two hours and haggling in a language that I am daily told I know nothing of and that takes determination. And at least once every month having my insides explode out both directions and the only outlet being a Turkish toilet, that takes perseverance or stupidity or something.

And after my trip up north to Azrou for PPST (post-pre-service training -- gotta love government acronyms) I've realized I'm really, really fortunate to be in Morocco. Just in the past two weeks I've walked through a park that would have fit in in any town in the US, ate sushi (real, tasty sushi!), had an honest to god caesar salad (a salad without cinnamon, sugar, ketchup, and/or mayonnaise is a miracle in Morocco), and watched a bootleg version of the latest Harry Potter movie. All these little reminders of home and they're in my PC country. That's definitely something to be thankful for. And on top of all of that I got to explore a little bit of Fes, buy a supposedly real Berber carpet in Meknes (I don't really care about the realness, because it's beautiful and I can fake it if I have to), go on a fruitless search for wild monkeys (but still there was the possibility of monkeys!) and had a couple of Moroccans be disproportionally pleased about my Tash skills, which after months of "walu! walu!" is beyond refreshing.

The point I'm poorly trying to make with all of this is if you're (my fellow PCVs) feeling down, remember that A) just existing and doing your day to day thing over here is pretty bad ass and B) it could always be worse. We could be in a country where we don't even have the possibility of monkeys.

In which Alisa lives her worst nightmare:

ZOMBIE CAMEL SPIDERS

Okay, first of all you need to see pictures and facts on camel spiders to truly understand just how frightening they are. See below.

this was in my house!!

Facts:
1. Camel Spiders can run up to 10 mph
2. While their bites aren't horribly poisonous, they leave jagged marks from their giant monster teeth that usually become infected.
3. They are f'ing TERRIFYING.

true story.

I finally have a house (pictures will be coming soon, I swear) and my 4th or 5th night in it was really hot (my site usually gets up to at least 115 these days) so I decided to open my windows. Little did I know this was an epic mistake. A few hours later I got up to go get a drink of water and see the devil monster above crawling on my window screen. I promptly began screaming and woke up my neighbor's newborn and then called another PCV in hysterics. Luckily she talked me up to ninja status and I was able to get a broom and whack the crap out of the spider. Unfortunately, they really are as fast as all the urban legends say and there was a scary minute or two when I couldn't find it. Once I did, whacking resumed until I thought it was dead, due to the guts kind of hanging out. Sadly, I was mistaken. Then an hour or so later I finally worked up the courage to go up to the window to take a picture and it started twitching and trying to crawl. It was a zombie camel spider. Zombie. Camel. Spider. My windows will never be opened again. Ever.

Thank god the past month hasn't been all camel spiders though. My site-mates had a scorpion. :( There's been another trip to Agadir, several trips to Tiznit and Tafraoute, and now I'm in Azrou, a small town near Fes for more Peace Corps "training". Azrou is amazing, mostly because of the weather. I actually get to use my blanket at night and there are trees here! And I had sushi in Fes and it was state-side delicious. As for work, which you all have started to ask me about, there's not really anything so far. Basically Peace Corps just wants us to survive this summer and Ramadan, get our house and all the admin stuff that goes with living in Morocco taken care of, and be ready to really start up in the fall. I also purchased my tickets for October, so I'll be in DC October 16th through the 24thish and in Bristol from the 24th until the 31st. 

And so many of you wonderful people have been asking me about care packages. I didn't want to do a wishlist post, but I think I'm going to cave. Check there for my address and things that will always, always make me smile. 

See you all in 88 days!

In which Alisa is officially all sworn-in:

It's been another month or so since I've posted and honestly it's because I'm not really sure what to say. That and I don't have internet yet in my site. Mainly it's the internet.

Anyway, so some big things that have happened in the past month:

• finished CBT 
• passed my Tashelheit language exam (woohoo!)
• was officially sworn-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer (no more PCT!)
• and moved to my site (my new host mom is amazing by the way)

I think that's about it for the big things... so some little things that have happened:

• got epic food poisoning (fyi: PCV girls, there is a new PCMO and he sounds young and is American. I'm just saying).
• a cockroach crawled on my arm
• finally ate bacon, but it was just a little piece and very expensive
• went to the beach twice (Sidi Ifni and Agadir!)

More things have happened, but honestly I can't remember right now. So just know that I'm trucking along over here, but am also counting down the days to my favoritest Britany's wedding. I'll be seeing you all in DC this October!

And here, more pictures!

CBT girls all dressed up in traditional Berber wedding gear

Peace Corps Morocco's very last Health and Environment Staj

The view coming down my mountain

In which Alisa decides her future career:

Let me preface this by saying this post has almost nothing to do with Peace Corps. 

But I was talking with a girl in my CBT (language training group) and she has a friend who is in hospital administration. I had sort of thought about that as a possible career (in the back of my mind kind of way), but never taken the thought further. Until I heard about this girl's friend. She has a NY apartment for the weekends and makes insane money and loves her job and she gets to wear scrubs! That's my dream: work in a hospital, make lots of cash, and get to wear scrubs all without actually having to go through med school. 

I think there might even be one or two Peace Corps Fellows schools that offer MBA's with hosp admin concentrations. 

And mainly I'm putting this in my blog because I tend to forget my best ideas, which explains my life really. Also, so I can remind myself to start studying for the GMAT. 

The end.

In which Alisa drove through a cloud (THROUGH A CLOUD):

Site visit has been completed and it was a crazy week. CRAZY. I'm not even sure where to begin...

So my site is in the south of Morocco but on a mountain in the Anti-Atlas, so we get the best of everything? Like crazy hot summer weather and crazy cold winter weather (SNOW even). Also, hence the title of this post: I'm like 90% sure I drove through a cloud coming down the mountain on my way out of site to come back to Oz. 

I like making lists, so here's the good and the bad of my site:

GOOD:

-It's really, really pretty on top of the mountain.

-There is a mini super market in my town, which is probably where the majority of my money where will be spent. 

-There's already a ton of work for me to do. 

-The town officials are nice and I have good connections already in place.

-My site-mates are super nice and I couldn't be more psyched to actually have site-mates. I couldn't imagine being on top of that mountain by myself.  

-My host mom might be the nicest Moroccan I've met so far. I LOVE her, even if she calls me Elise.

-I learned I can travel to Portugal for about the equivalent of $8 USD. EIGHT DOLLARS. EIGHT DOLLARS!!!

-I'm about 4 hours from Agadir, the best place I've been to so far in Morocco. I ate McDonald's, chilled on the beach, had Indian food, and went to French Target all in one day there. 

BAD:

-I'm in a pretty remote location which I'm honestly not that psyched about. 

-There is no internet in my site. I know this is Peace Corps and all but when fellow volunteers have DSL in their houses and I have to take a scary souk bus to a town 45 kms away just to check my email, I can't help but complain a little.  

-There are known scorpions, snakes, and camel spiders (!!!!!!) in my area or at least that is what I was told. 

-I'm about 4 hours from Agadir, why can't I be cloooooser???

-There may be no available housing in my site, but this needs to be investigated a little more. 

-For some reason transportation always seems to go horribly awry when trying to travel out of the Tiznit province. 

-And my town is pretty conservative. The women almost never go "downtown" and my host mom and her daughter-in-law won't leave their house. 

So all in all, my site is pretty good and I'm excited for June. Also, I now have an address. You guys can send me things! I'll be emailing it out soon. And I think that's it...

In which Alisa moves back to the dirrrty south:

Disclaimer: Okay, so Tennessee isn't technically the dirty south and I don't think my permanent site is dirty (in case PC is reading this), but I like my title for this post and I'm keeping it.

Anyway, May 26thish I'm moving to Ait Ouafqa, a small town of about 4500. I'm about 45 minutes from Tafraoute (which you can actually find on google maps) in the Tiznit province. All this means I'm in the Anti-Atlas mountains next to the Sahara. So I can look forward to 125 degree weather in the summer and below freezing weather in the winter. Also, I'm in one of the more conservative areas in Morocco and according to wikipedia the residents are not known for their hospitality. I'm going on a one week site visit on Monday, so I'll let you know how it really is when I get back. Fingers waaaaay crossed.

Ait Ouafqa (according to google images)

My home for the next two years...

In which Alisa is officially in Morocco:

Hey.... so I realize it's been like a month and half since I last wrote in this and I had good intentions, I really did. But then I got to Morocco and things have been go, go, go the entire time. So let me set some realistic expectations. This thing will probably only be updated once every month or so until I get to my final site at the end of May. Maybe even until July when I can finally get my own place. OMG my own place. If I can just make it until then I think I might just survive this PC craziness.

So I should probably fill you all in on what happened since the last time I wrote... ummm... lots of stuff? I honestly don't even know where to begin. Maybe highlights, lowlights (gotta keep it real) and what my timeline will be for the next few months? I'm being lazy, so yeah, that sounds good.

Highlights!
-Police escort through the Atlas Mountains (so b.a.)
-The views. Of pretty much everything.
-Holding a baby lamb
-Conquering the Turkish Toilet
-Coming to hub once a week or so to shower. I think I might see god when this happens.
-Learning a new language (Tashelheit!) and sometimes even having people understand what I say
-Getting a host family with a super nice, clean house
-Meeting some amazing fellow volunteers
-And of course, living in MOROCCO.

Lowlights :( 
-Conquering the Turkish Toilet
-Dragging my 100+ (counting carry-ons) lbs of luggage through JFK and half of Morocco
-Shots. So very many shots.
-Moroccan doors
-Getting harassed by a Moroccan soccer team. I really need to learn some Tash curse words.
-All the bread and sugar. Seriously all meals consist of bread and sweet tea.
-Getting a host family that doesn't really talk. Kinda weird here in Morocco.
-The PC stomach issues presentation: giardia and pinworms. Enough said.

So all in all, the experience has been pretty even so far and I think that's about as much as I could ask for.

My schedule for the next few months looks like the below:

• In my wee little village of Amerzgane until May 20ish
• I'll only have internet access when I'm at our hub site (Ouarzazate - aka Oz, the land of showers and internet), which is once every 7 or 8 days.
• Find out my final site on April 16, but don't travel there until the end of May
• Live in final site (tbd) with another host family (lets keep our fingers crossed for a better one) from end of May until mid-Julyish.
• Mid-Julyish: I get my own place and can receive packages!!! Internet access should also be pretty regular or at least on a regular schedule
• September 1st, I can travel and get visitors!
• May 2013 - I come home! Just saying...

Also, so many of you have been extremely thoughtful and asked for my address so you can send me stuff. Trust me, I would LOVE to take you up on it, but there's no way for me to receive packages until at least July this year. What you can do though is get dropbox (www.dropbox.com and you can find me there using my email address) and send me music you think I might like, or movies, or tv shows you have downloaded. It's free and it would me make love you forever and ever, not that I don't already, of course.

And lastly, but not leastly: I MISS YOU ALL SO FREAKING BAD. EMAIL ME EVEN THOUGH I WILL BE SLOW TO WRITE BACK. AND SEND ME PICTURES OF YOUR FACES, PLEASE. I MISS THEM.

Oh, and have some pics too (the majority are on fb though):

Oz (Ouarzazate)

Amerzgane (my home for the next two months)

My CBT (language training) group minus our one guy

In which Alisa writes a love letter of sorts (to DC, chill):

DC is not my town and it never has been. If you know me you've definitely heard me complain about the weather (seriously, there's only like two good weeks a year; the rest is crazy humid, stupid cold/windy, or cherry blossoms-which I'm allergic to), the drivers and traffic, the metro (my god, there are no words for the amount of fail that seems to go into metro), and the people (who I think are generally self-involved, self-entitled, and political about things that aren't even remotely political). So with that in mind, I thought leaving DC would be the easiest, most freeing thing ever. I mean I've been here almost nine years, that's a long time for my DC hate to fester. But somehow this stupid city and a handful of its people managed to grow like a fungus on me.

I'm going to miss the food like woah! And I know DC is not known for being a culinary town, but you try growing up in Bristol and you'd miss the plethora of non-chains DC's got going too. I'm going to miss walking downtown on my way to work and thinking, "Holy crap, how the hell did I get here and where are all the cows, and pick-up trucks, and tractors!?" And I'm going to miss the fact that there's public transportation and cabs!, real museums and culture, and you know, POTUS just chilling down the street. For all of DC's flaws, I guess it is occasionally kind of a cool city.

But most of all, I'm going to miss all you fungus people. And you know who you are, so I'm not going into a big listing thing. Just assume that if you're reading this and in the DC area, you're probably fungusy to me.

I'm not sure what my town will end up being but I'm pretty sure of a few of things: it won't be Bristol, it won't be DC (but that definitely doesn't mean I won't be seeing you all), and I promise you guys, it won't be somewhere in Morocco. I guess like the rest of my life post-Peace Corps, I'll just slap a big TBD on it and hope I figure it out along the way.

Much love and warm fuzzies,
Alisa

PS-
I won't have a cell phone starting Friday (Feb 25) so it's gmail and facebook from here on out, folks.
Also, last day in DC: Feb 27, last day in Bristol: March 13, last day in the US: March 15. AHHHHHH!!!

In which Alisa finds her spirit rapper (instead of animal- shut up and just go with it, okay?):

So I haven't updated this thing in a while and that's for several reasons. One, there hasn't been that much to update on. Two, I've been a little busy. And three, I'm freaking out hardcore.

Now that Morocco is only a mere 32 days away, it's pretty much all anyone talks to me about and that's totally understandable. My reaction of, "Morocco! I know! So exciting! I have to go over here for a minute! Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!", is not however. Let me preface this by saying I am not backing out of Peace Corps or even seriously considering it (I maybe occasionally have fantasies of running away to Texas, pretending I did Peace Corps, faking some pictures of camels, and telling no one but Britany what really happened), I'm just having a standard Alisa freak out, but on a much, much larger scale. I don't really like change, but sometimes I become a little masochistic and decide I need to shake things up and in a big way. So I move to DC for school instead of going to Tech like all my friends, and I shoot for a job that let me travel all over the place for a bunch of crazy Saudis instead of playing it safe at the bank, and now I'm doing Peace Corps. In case you didn't notice, the biggest, craziest change of the above three? It's Peace Corps. Hence the epic Alisa freak out. Honestly, I'm sure I'll be fine in Morocco and it'll end up being the best thing I've ever done, but right now I can't even think about it lest I induce cardiac arrest.

And now we get to the point of the title of this entry. I've discovered a wonderful, wonderful coping mechanism and his name is Biggie Smalls. When I start freaking out about whether or not I can actually handle Peace Corps and Morocco and all that they'll entail, I just put on some Biggie ("grab your **censored, so I don't offend my poor Mother** if you love hip-hop, rub your **censored again!** if you love Big Poppa") and I instantly become the most badass version of myself possible (admittedly that's still not very b.a., but it's an improvement, all right?). So if I start sounding like a deceased (RIP) New York rapper, don't judge. I'm just coping, okay?

And now some random stuff. Below is a picture of my luggage. I've had some serious buyer's remorse (also part of the epic Alisa freak out) about if I bought the right type of duffel, but I think it's going to be okay.

You can't tell from the above picture, but it also has pop-out straps so I can carry it on my back. It's also almost as tall as me, so that's going to be fun, and funny.

And just FYI everyone, I'll be in DC until the 27th-ish and then back in Bristol until March 13th.

So, Morocco! I know! So exciting! I have to go over here for a minute! Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

In which Alisa is completely overwhelmed and procrastinates (what's new?):

I'll probably (maybe) delete this entry once I'm set to leave because it's just going to be a really boring list of all of the stuff I need to get done in order to you know, actually leave.

So, list!:

1. Send passport off ASAP
2. Finish aspiration statement of doom ASAP
3. Fill out legal paperwork
4. Fill out press packet (joining Peace Corps is a little like becoming a minor celebrity, except for the part where it's totally not)
5. Clean up files at work
6. Do all the work stuff I was planning on doing as a "learning exercise" with my replacement since there will be no time to train them.
7. Write a document that tells my replacement how to do everything
8. Find my lease and see if I need to pay rent for February or not (let's cross our fingers for not)
9. Further look into U-haul/storage/movers stuff
10. Start buying some of the crap on my epic packing list
11. Make photo albums of all your lovely faces and my ugly mug
12. Organize my stuff so I know what to get rid of/pack
13. CLEAN ALL THE THINGS
14. Burn some awesome cds --
      -- side note: I found the best local DC band EVER and of course this is right before I leave.
          http://www.myspace.com/themoderate - listen to Chapel Hill or any of the songs listed
          really and you're welcome.
15. Take some self defense at some point?
16. LEARN ANOTHER FOX NEWS LANGUAGE. Darija why are you so difficult... and guttural sounding? 
17. Get student loan deferment forms
18. Do something with my one bajillion Bikram passes. Hi there, Stanley. :)
19. Fill out the power of attorney stuff and make a living will. Don't freak out, Mom. 
20. Cancel subscriptions (tanning, netflix, I think that might be it...)
21. Oh! Go tanning (shuttup! I don't want to deal with a sunburn on top of having to poop in a hole).
22. Change address for everything ever, dear lord.
23. Stuff my face with bacon and alcohol. I'm like 100% sure this one will get done.
24. Get addresses! Send me your addresses please?
25. Other stuff I am sure I'm forgetting...

In which Alisa is a neurotic sap monster:

First, I cannot belive how amazing everyone has been. It really makes this whole Peace Corps thing a little bittersweet. From the notoriously grumpy old man at work who did a little dance when he found out I got in, to the old co-worker who now works for Peace Corps getting to process my invitation and write me a good luck note in my info packet (how many other Volunteers can say that?!), to my wonderful, wonderful friends who have been the definition of support (I know, so sappy!), and to my parents who are trying their hardest to be excited for me despite their many reservations. I honestly thought people would just be like, "Oh. Okay. Peace out!" and I have been proven so very wrong. And it helps so much to have this support to think back on when I have my occasional moments of "Oh, god. WHAT HAVE I DONE." Because this is for real, y'all. Like for real, for real. Like I have officially quit my job and gave notice on my apartment real. Ohmygod, you guys.

Second, I made a packing list in Excel. It has 3 tabs and over 120 rows. I spent 4 hours on it. I also left off underwear. I am terribly afraid this will be indicative of my time in Morocco.

Third, I've been reading up on Health Volunteers in Morocco and it kind of sounds like they get the short end of the stick. While most Moroccan Volunteers can expect electricity, internet access, or running water if not all three, Health Volunteers are warned that will probably not be the case for them. This explains why I can find no blogs written by Health Volunteers. They're too busy pooping in a hole (like I'd forget about that) in the dark to walk the however many Fox News (see what I did there, Mom?) miles it takes them to get to a village with internet. So this blog might come to an abrupt end come mid-March. I've decided I'll poop in a hole if I have to, but after only three posts I've become a little attached to this blog writing business. Here's hoping I won't have to give it up.

Fourth, I am apparently expected to already be working on my Darija. So fair warning, I will probably be harrassing you all with my pathetic Southern-girl attempts at Arabic in the coming weeks. Enjoy!

In which Alisa is officially Moroccan and a rollin':

March 16th, 2011, a tbd village (fingers crossed for Essaouira) in Morocco, y'all.

Edit: Haha, Peace Corps was just kidding. They really meant March 15th, with me flying out to staging on the 13th. No biggie, PC. I didn't need those extra three days or anything. It's not like I have to pack, move, unpack, buy a bunch of crap, pack again for two years, and say goodbye to all my friends and family in less than two weeks. Oh, wait....

In which Alisa is (finally!) accepted into the Peace Corps:

After one failed application, three years of waiting, and six years of wanting, I have finally been accepted into the Peace Corps. I'll be leaving either the second or third week of March to (most likely) Morocco and will be doing some kind of health education work.

I am excited. I am. But I am also freaking the f out. Mid-March is a mere 59 days away. That's less than two months, less than nine weeks, 59 DAYS to quit my job and help my boss hire/train a new assistant, pack up and schlep all my crap from DC back to Bristol, and try to pack for 2+ years. Like I said, freaking the f out.

I've also done a little research and discovered I will most likely be staying in a wee village as opposed to a cosmopolitan city like Casablanca or Marrakesh. Wee villages mean turkish toilets and bucket baths. Like I said, I am excited for Peace Corps, but this has pretty much been my reaction since finding out I've been accepted: "Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. I'm going to have to poop in a hole. Can I poop in a hole? Okay, I can poop in a hole, obviously. But can I poop in a hole for two years? Ohmygodohmygodohmygod... I'm going to have to poop in a hole." I may or may not have started doing squats in preparation (hint: I am totally doing squats in preparation).




Umm... I think that's it for now. I'll probably write more when I get more details and probably also to continue freaking out about pooping in a hole.

PS
Stan, if you're reading this, I apologize for offending your fragile sensibilities.

PPS
Mom, if you're reading this, f stands for Fox News.