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
