Saturday, January 7, 2012

Madrid and post Madrid reflections


            After 11 days of debauchery in Spain for the holidays, I have returned home to my quiet little village. Spain (aside from the robbery) was fantastic. The minute we landed we all felt free and giddy, away from Muslim norms, and back to the comforts of the Western world. We ate tons of pork, delicious cheeses, and of course, drank decent amounts of beer and vodka. It felt amazing to go to a bar, not be the only women there who weren’t prostitutes, and to not get harassed by perverted men. It’s been 10 months since I arrived to Morocco, and I easily forgot what the world outside was like. I wore whatever clothes I wanted, put on make-up, and spoke a language I easily understood. There were times where I felt I could skip through the streets of Madrid, enjoying the fact that I was in a country where drinking at noon was a norm and that I wasn’t getting harassed by every man who walked by. Christmas day was spent lounging around our beautiful apartment, eating (lots of bacon and cheese of course), and then ending the night watching ‘Love Actually.’ Our apartment didn’t have wifi, however, I thought it was probably better to not talk to my family on Christmas day, as I figured it would depress me. New Years Eve was pure insanity, as most everybody went out to the center, wore crazy wigs, ate grapes at the stroke of midnight (a Spanish tradition), then stayed out until all hours of the night bar hopping. It wasn’t the same as going to Prescott with my Wildcat crew, but I still had an incredible time. Although it was sad to leave Madrid, I felt that by the end of the vacation, it was time to get back to Morocco.
            Being in Madrid has made me reflect on my life here in Morocco. The truth of it is that as a country, Morocco is not fun. There really isn’t much to do, and when volunteers get together, it’s usually a group of us sitting in a hotel room, drinking crappy vodka or wine (or both), and maybe venturing out to the closest prostitution bar where we boogie to really bad music. There are other times when we just sit with each other in our houses, and talk for hours on end. As a result, we may know each other too well and we have to make our own fun. This has been an obvious challenge for me, because, as most of you know, I really like to have fun. However, I have come to the realization that being here, in a Muslim country, is probably the best thing for me. I have a lot of time to think, reflect, and learn about things I would otherwise never learn, and have even began to think of this as my own personal rehab. I have realized how lucky I am, being an American woman, and having opportunities like attending college, traveling, and marrying whomever I want (if I so choose to even get married). I am also lucky enough to have some of my closest friends only a few kilometers away from me, so if I do need an American outlet, it’s only a short walk away. There will be no other point in my life where I will have this much time for myself, and instead of dwelling on the fact that I have a year and a half until I am back home with my loved once, I instead am going to embrace this experience and enjoy all it’s quirks. I still have a lot to learn about life, and what better way to do it than with this once in a life time experience?            
            Although I am here to help the people in my village, I have also realized that I have a lot to learn from them. Life is much slower here, which has therefore forced me to develop more patience. Sitting and waiting has become an every day part of my life, and I am surprisingly okay with it. Also, the kindness of the people in my village continues to astound me. I can barely communicate with them, yet they still care about me. If I say I’m sick, an hour later somebody is knocking at my door with soup they made for me. If I need help carrying something to my house, nobody hesitates to stop what they are doing to help me. I often think that if this were the US, and a strange foreigner arrived and did not speak an ounce of English, hardly anybody I know would give them the time of day. So yes, I often get annoyed with the backwards mentality of the people here, and still don’t understand how they can eat and do the same thing every single day. However, there is a lot to be said about a group of people who fight for me to go to their houses for tea or lunch, even if I can barely have a conversation with them.
            On a side note, I have a funny story. I went to my neighbors’ house yesterday for couscous (couscous every single Friday. It’s delicious) and when I tried to leave, she told me I had to stay for something. Moments later, a large group of women came over and laid out a mat. Next to the mat was a pot of cooked corn kernels. I had no idea what was going on, but was intrigued and decided to stay. Then they took about 3 or 4 children, set them on the mat, and placed a silver bracelet and a block of sugar on top of their heads. After that they took a large heaping spoon of corn, and poured it all over them. They told me that this was supposed to give the kids healthy teeth. Never mind the massive amounts of sugar they put in their tea, or the fact that they give babies sugar cubes to suck on, but a shower of corn will do the trick.
            Although it’s good to be back, I can’t help but wonder when my next get away will be. There are some volunteers who are planning on doing St. Patty’s day in Ireland, but I doubt my liver and lack of funds can handle it. Radiohead will be in Berlin the beginning of July, but I have a feeling I’m going to need something sooner than that. My closest planned vacation will be in July, when I go to the Maldives to attend my beautiful friend Sara’s wedding, as her maid of honor (sooooo excited!). July can not come soon enough, so if anybody feels the need for a European vacation, holler at your girl J
           
Hope you all had a fantastic holiday. Sending my love all the way from Morocco. 
Leigh Anne