It was a success

So I am already off track with my updates because I have been so busy! When I got back home from my last blog post, 2 Saturday s ago, I found out another girl Samira wanted to go to the workshop.  I ended up having 2 women going, so my association was well represented.  We made it to the workshop smoothly and the ladies learned a lot, I think.  They were more excited that the teacher was from the delegation than learning.  Having any kind of contact with anyone from the delegation makes them feel special and important.  The teacher focused on the process of making a carpet from choosing the wool, dying it, setting up the loom, and weaving patterns while stressing all the quality points within.  The women know how to do all of these things; however, they do not pay attention to detail which makes their output products non-desirable for sale or even not up to quality standards set by the delegate.  My counterpart thought I was attending to learn along with them but this was a good way to prove that I am not here to weave, by her seeing that this workshop was put together by a volunteer just like me.  Yet, I paid attention to better understand the processes so one day I can convey the quality factors in making “sellable” rugs to my women.   My credibility is not quite there with them.  This is why integration has been my main focus since I got to site; to build relationships and trust.  Also, I am hoping that the ladies I took retained information to influence the others.  The girl Samira came over on Sunday, 2 days after she returned, and told me to come over so she could show me something.  To my surprise she had dyed some wool the same color as we did at the workshop and said she did it that color because that is the color tourist like! I was so excited, this means she was paying attention and she is really interested in weaving to sell, not just for her own home.  Now I am hoping to gather the women to have her show them the combination for the dye and have them all do it together.  I think the women will pay more attention if one of their own is showing them new techniques.  The village we visited was great; the women were so friendly and exceptional hosts.  We ate 5 times a day (breakfast, lunch, dinner and 2 snacks with tea, Moroccans can’t live without tea every 2-3 hours) and each setting was so delicious…dangerously good!  After I returned to site I already had to leave Tuesday to head to Rabat for the dentist and I am on the train now from Rabat back down to Marrakesh.  I don’t mind though because I took an amazing shower this morning and it was hot the whole time!!  Just as I got everything out of my system on my last post things have been coming around.  The workshop was a success, the women have a better idea about why I am here, I got a hot shower, and had a lot of internet access to skype my family!  Here are some pics from the workshop…I tried to post a video of the ahaydus, traditional singing and dancing, but it didn’t work, sorry.  Bslama!

P.S. Little did I know I was not on the train to Marrakesh...somehow I got on the wrong train.  However, I am finally in Marrakesh and when we switched trains we met a guy from London traveling down to Namibia by ground along the coast of Africa.  He also somehow missed the train we were supposed to be on...weird.  This is only the third time in my life I have traveled by train but I thought I had them figured out.  But anyways, this guy is going to Namibia with the Great Freedom Movement, a group of spiritual people that are training how to live off of energy and they are going to meet the Rainbow Warrior tribe there...pretty interesting.  We gave hime some assistance to get through Morocco, so hopefully he makes it there safe.  I keep saying we because a fellow PCV from Ouarzazate had to go to dentist as well, so we traveled together.  Also, one more story...this is why I want to continue with my daily updates so you all don't miss the good stuff.  On my way down the mountain for my trip to Rabat I had to leave really early to catch the 7:30am bus.  Well if you catch an early transit out of the mountain you are usually on it with the people that live high up in the mountain because there only way out is really early...these are usually people that don't come out of the mountain much and are much farther away from "modern civilization."  Anyways, I thought I heard a baaa, then I heard it again for sure...sure enough I was riding down with a sheep under one of the seats in a transit van.  They gotta do what they gotta do and sometimes there is no other way! Enjoy the pics...

Here is the teacher giving lectures.  He didn't spend much time lecturing because women just weren't interested.  But it was necessary to explain what they were going to be doing in the hands on areas.  You can see wool in the basket on the left and those ping pong paddle looking acessories are the brushes for the wool.  They are not easy to use...quite an arm work out!

Here they are preparing the color mixture for dying the wool.

Adding the water...I thought this picture was cool looking...do you like my counterpart's groovy bathrobe outfit in the backround.  Trust me they brought there sunday's best to come to this workshop...literally.

Here is a girl from the hosting village pounding a clear crystal which will be used to activate the dye. I don't know what it is called in English yet, just Berber...and right now I forget that.

There is the wool waiting to be put in the dye as he is stirring the dye so it is thoroughly mixed.

Here is just there contraption of powders to make the according color.

The wool is being stirred to get a good mix.

Here they are removing the wool.  Notice the steam...the water has to be a certain temperature for the wool to dye correctly.

I finally got a picture with my counterpart, Moohou!!!

Here they are preparing the first steps of the loom.  They post sticks in the ground the desired length of the rug and walk around them as much as the desired width of the rug... this is called the eed...it is the part of the rug that comes out at the ends and is tied to start and finsih the rug.

Here is the eed set to desired width and length being put on the loom ends.

That is Samira, one of my girls, on the far left, the president of the Association of the hosting village, Khadija, and my counterpart Moohou on far right.  They are tying the eed tight to asure an even and tight weave.

I just love my counterpart!

Here they are finalizing the loom setup.  They re-use everything...see the old sandals being used to brace the loom.

This woman is cranking the loom pulling it tight for a nice weave.

This is the part that actually creates the weave.  There is string on each side and the front string is tied to be behind the back string to create the weave.

This is the finalized color being put in the sun to dry.

This is a wonderful contraption used to cut the wool evenly to make shag rugs.  I am hoping to introduce this to my women because they cut as they go and it makes the shag way uneven...and they use a dull knife so it is rather fuzzy and unattractive.

This is Samira working a rug that was already started at the association we visited.

Here are the women working on the demo rug.

Here are my women...these are common rugs styles of the south...however, ours do not resemble this. One day I will get you all some pictures of our styles.

Here are all the ladies that attended the workshop!

The workshop would not be complete without the certificates at the end.  These are my women!

Just to show you an idea of how we ate...this is just snack!!!

  Here is some ahaydus before dinner one night...they were quite the entertainers!

Trying something new

As I was on my transit ride back home, after my last blog, I was thinking of how my last two entries have not been so positive and/or informative.  I am going to try and keep a daily journal on my computer and post that so you all have a better idea of daily life.  When I go to the cyber I am usually rushed and just brush through what I have been doing or vent slightly because I don’t have any other outlets.  Anyways, I want to make it very clear that I am extremely happy here.  My home is amazing, the people are amazing and life here is amazing.  However, I must admit that this is probably the most challenging part of my time, hopefully, here in Morocco.  I say this because I have been planted in a small village all alone where no one speaks English, well; one younger boy does that is away at school 6 days a week.  When I say away, I mean away.  The adolescents that actually are still in school through high school, board there, because it is usually too far away to transit them in and out of the mountains every day.  I have already asked him if he would be willing to help me when my tutor goes back to work with the next group of volunteers coming in, in March. To add to that side thought, there is an elementary school in my village but once the youth gets to 6^th grade they go to a school a few villages away, still in the mountains.  Once they reach high school they go to the bigger towns.  This can be looked at positively because at least there is an option, however many kids “exit”, that is the way they put it, school because it is not local or they can’t afford to go to high school.   I know I change subjects a lot, but some topics just need explanations.  But anyways back to my life here.  I have been put here in a totally “foreign” place, not knowing a lot of the language and expected to survive, which is a challenge that I wanted.  It just can be mentally and emotionally draining some days.  Such is expected and only natural. It is not supposed to be easy.  Heck, if life were easy it wouldn’t be worth living, right?  People day in and out tell me I don’t know, yet have not offered to help or even slow down when they speak. However, I have all kinds of love here and every day I am reminded why I am happy to be here.  Yet, there are always those people, no matter where you go, that want to “control” you, tell you how to do things, tell you “you don’t know,” don’t understand why you are here.  In time this will all slow down.  Also, I have still yet to break all the women’s hearts when I finally tell them I am not here to weave.  The volunteer before me was an artist so she took on a different role than me.  This is actually good because now I am here with different ideas, but every day I am haggled about when I am going to start weaving.  Although, finally, last night I was back at my host family’s house having dinner and before dinner I was talking with my aunts in the traditional kitchen, as the couscous was simmering.  We were talking about how my tutor may come up and help me have an assessment meeting with the women about why I am here and what they want from me.  I started to explain about how I can help with marketing, quality, business ideas and I am not like the previous volunteer, which I have explained to some before.  But when I started to say how volunteers aren’t here to weave my one aunt interrupted me by saying “I know you all aren’t here to weave you are here to work.”  Let me tell you a ton of bricks came off my back!!  I just said thank you, thank you, thank you…now tell the rest of them that, just jokingly.  The other 2 thought my reaction was hilarious! They understand where I am coming from…they are a few of the women I really trust and have opened up to already.  These things are not unexpected and I know it is just cultural.  All these people treat me as I am their child, which is ok, they mean no harm, but sometimes enough is enough.  Each day I am meeting more and more people and things are coming around slowly.  Enough of that, now you all understand a little of what I am dealing with, back to my daily life.  Here is a little side story to illustrate common life here.  When I go to town I usually spend all day until right before dark.  Well so does everyone else, so the transit vans are so full, to the point where you are lucky to have a seat or half of one. Yesterday, souk day, I had about three bags from souk and I am one of the last ones on the already too full bus. Luckily, there was a seat next to a holy, innocent, little old man.  They call these older men that have been to pilgrimage (Mecca), LHaj. They are treated with the upmost respect by everyone.  But anyways, the way up the mountain can be a bumpy curvy ride and at one curve the man accidentally leaned into my breast and I think it scared the bjeebees out of him.  He held onto the railing the rest of the ride.  I felt so bad for him, but just an example of how packed these transit vans are, some things cannot be avoided.  When the van reached my village I noticed all the women of the association sitting outside the building so I dropped my stuff in the house and hurried to the association, because if they are all there, something is happening.  Which I knew they were expecting the president of another local association to come in order to do some paperwork and handle some “problems” concerning looms that 2 women have taken to their homes to use at their leisure, that belong to the association.   I got there just in time when the man arrived and we had a “meeting”, which turned into a chance for all the women to argue and vent.  It was quite interesting and I was glad to be there to understand what is going on within my association and more of what is going in my village as a whole.  This was a huge deal for the village, even men came up to the association and were looking in the door and windows, and some even came in for a closer look.  So it was dark by the time this whole ordeal was done and that is why I was at my host family’s house last night. No one will let me walk home after dark.  I need to work on that one, but I am afraid of stray dogs anyway, especially these ones.  So this morning, as I was sitting having breakfast drinking this amazing coffee, basically coffee made with milk, I miss it so much. I don’t even drink coffee but theirs is so good.  Also eating the fresh olive oil and fresh baked bread I asked my mom where I can buy the local olive oil and she told me to ask my tutor to get it for me.  He is from her town where there are a lot of Lmessirts.  These are basically where they produce fresh olive oil.  Then, little did I know, she invited me to go to her village with her for the day, and I was able to see how they make the olive oil, bring some back with me, and I met her family.  I tell ya, everyday is something new and unexpected.  So, I thought these Lmessirts were separate buildings on their own where men go to work every day but they are within the family compounds and her uncle operates one.  Next time I will go equipped with my camera to have pictures for you all.  Here is my best illustration.  Basically, the olives are put into a huge pit like contraption with a grinder.  Wow, this is hard to describe.  The grinder is attached to a mule and the mule walks in circles around the pit to make the grinder go, which mashes the olives. Yes, they switch out the mules.  Then they gather the mashed olives in these flattened straw “baskets” and stack the baskets atop each other.  Then a machine slowly pushes down on these “baskets” squeezing all the oil out into a tank, where the oil is then filtered and you have fresh olive oil.  I hope that is easy to understand.  Plus, I am slowly forgetting English so certain words just aren’t at the top of my head anymore.  After the Lmessirt and lunch at her brother’s house, which is the house she grew up in, we went to a gathering like “calling hours”.  I guess that was why she was going to her village, but I did not know this.  That was interesting, the way the men and women gather separately and the men chant/sing verses of the Koran.  It was pretty intense.  I felt a little awkward, because I had never met any of these people and they were all in mourning but it was worth it…meeting new people and experiencing something new. Then it was back to our village and here I am.  Also, to add one more story of life here in Morocco.  So, all the taxi/transit drivers know me and where I live, even if I have never spoken to them.  As soon as I walk up someone will say climb in and the name of my village/area, and I don’t even know them.  This is just fine, sometimes it is better to be known then unknown, because they all look out for me and help me, especially when I was bringing everything up for my house.  Well today one finally asked me for my name and I told him Sara, my Moroccan name. So when the transit was pulling off he said “Bye Sokayna” and everyone around was like her name is Sokayna, he said ”Ya, she told me her name.” I didn’t correct him and my host mom could barely hold her laugh in as we pulled off.  I told her no problem, I like it like that.  Now consider, I am one of only 3 “foreigners” going up and down this mountain on public transit that I know of.  The other 2 are fellow volunteers.  Also, there is only one stand to catch taxis up my mountain range.  Yes, they are used to tourist but they would never use public transport, so I am basically their only source of entertainment.  Plus, they wouldn’t dare communicate with a local, veiled woman in public that is not related to them.  I can’t wait to see how this pans out when they find out my name is not Sokayna. Signing out on this Thursday night, the 13^th of January, 2011.  I am going to study some words for my talk tomorrow about our upcoming workshop.  I didn’t get to talk to my counterpart about it last night because of all the excitement with the meeting. Ok so it is Saturday, I am in town today to check the bus schedule and I went to the Hammam...boy did I need that!  However I forgot my gel and my hair is going crazy!  As of right now only my counterpart is going to the workshop with me but that is ok.  Maybe when I return to site I will have another woman  going.  This is a free trip away for these women and a chance for them to meet new people as well as see women they already know.  However, alot of the women of the association either have children or they are the "chore" person of the house so they can not leave for a whole week.  I thouht for sure that I would have women fighting over the other spot but instead I am begging for another to go.  It would be really beneficial for them as well.  When I say chore person, I meant they are the one that does the cooking, cleaning, handles the livestock and goes out to the fields daily to get firewood or pick plants for dinner.  Usually this is a daughter or a still unmarried women of the family still living within the quarters of her own family.  Once a woman is married she moves into the quarters of her husband.  So life is good, as of now I am leaving tomorrow for Taznacht which is about an hour south of Ouarzazate and will return on the following Saturday.  I will be sure to take pictures and let you all know how things go at the workshop.  I am really excited to see how this works out.  Plus it will be a good time with my counterpart and I to meet new people and see new places.

I have my own home

So I just want to check in because I haven’t been around for a while.  Time in town has been filled getting things for my new home so I don’t have time to stop by the internet.  Yes, I got the place my heart was set on and everything is coming together, little by little.  Last week I was in town almost every day getting things for my house.  I can only get so much each trip because everything has to taken up by transit van into the mountain.  But most importantly, on Saturday, I got a bed!  It is just a firm piece of foam but it is full size and I sleep so good!  Actually it is dangerous to have a bed, because now I have true refuge when I have a bad day and I just want to be alone.  Not to say I have many bad days but when you are living in a world where no one speaks your language, you still don't understand them, they don't understand you and you are always around people....you need some "alone" time.  Hopefully I will be able to get my house all cleaned up and settled soon so I can get you all some pictures.  I met my delegate on Friday.  He is basically the delegate for my province in the Artisana for Traditional Handicrafts, which is who oversees my association.  I gave him my resume and he explained what he would like to see me do with my association.  His ideas for me is to teach them English, turn the association into a co-op and up there quality of products.  I was honestly surprised about the English, which I was planning on doing, but that was his number one order.  I will do as he and the women want, however as long as it is sustainable when my time is done.  I also hope to empower them, teach them basic math, and how to keep their own records.  Turning them into a co-op doesn't do much but make them for profit, rather than not-for-profit.  I need to read up more to understand the Morrocan laws on this, however, that is what was explained to me by a fellow volunteer.  My days have been good.  I started washing clothes in the river which is so much easier than by bucket, however the walk back up the hill is no joke! Not to mention the women repeatedly telling me how to wash my clothes! After the fifth time explaining that you should let your clothes soak before scrubbing, I had to give them some assertiveness and then they apologized and finally changed the subject. Yes, I know it is not good for the eco-system, all the women do it anyway and I do not use that much soap.  If anyone is interested you can send me eco-friendly soap. The earth and I would greatly appreciate it!  I am heading home now from visiting souk.  Wow, my first time shopping alone in souk the vendors were eating me up with the prices.  Most of the time I just walked away. I am going to try and go every week so I am known there, because souk is and should be the best price for anything and everything.  I am supposed to be going to a workshop next week with 2 of my women for a whole week on product quality, pricing, etc. It is being done by a fellow volunteer.  I hope it all works out because one of the women sounds as if she is not going.  I will let you all know.  This will be a huge accomplishment, especially this early in site.  I am actually going to my counterpart's house tonight to discuss this, so wish me luck. Until next time...peace!