One Foot In…

March 1 was the 50^th Anniversary of the Peace Corps, commemorated widely in the broadcast news and press, with the inevitable (and still inspiring to me) clip of Kennedy saying in his inaugural address, “Ask not what America can do for you…”

I began this journey 14 months ago. Next Monday, I board a plane for “staging,” but I’m already feeling as if I have one foot in, even while the other is still firmly planted outside.

• Last week I was invited to recruiting meeting in Muskegon much like the one I went to nearly four years ago that kindled my interest in serving. How different it was for me this time. My status as invitee, with an imminent departure, was a point of interest for many people – why did I apply, what was involved, etc., so even though I haven’t yet served, I have Peace Corps experience that was interesting and perhaps valuable to those considering the step.
• Last Saturday I was invited to a Potluck organized by the Grand Rapids chapter of Returned Peace Corps Volunteers. There were about 40 people present. Most brought excellent dishes from the countries they had served in. I made an apple pie – so American – but that's my experience so far. There was another pre-service volunteer, a young woman about to graduate from Grand Valley State University, my alma mater, and several recently returned volunteers. It was great to be welcomed in even before I’ve begun!
• For the past four months, I’ve been part of a Facebook Group for those of us in this Moroccan group. I must say it has been a wonderful experience getting to know each other a little in advance, sharing concerns, questions, advice. And getting a head start on the bonding!
• And yesterday I found a “bridge” document to PST (Pre-Service Training) in my email. It was a detailed overview of what to expect for the next ten days or so. Boy was it full of surprises! For one, we won’t be going to Rabat (the capital) as I had expected. Instead we’re headed to a more remote place. Think of the initial gladiatorial scene in Gladiator. I’ll send you pictures when I get there. I'm reminded nearly every day that Peace Corps asks us to be flexible.

So, one foot already in…and I’m about to lift the other.

World Wise Schools Teaches Me a Lesson

As part of my Peace Corps application, I volunteered for World Wise Schools, a program that matches a PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer – might as well start using the jargon), with a school back here in the States. The object is to further understanding of the foreign country by Americans and vice versa.

My former wife teaches seventh grade social studies here in West Michigan and was enthusiastic about participating in the program, so we became a match. I live only an hour from the school, so we decided it would be good to for me to do a pre-departure school visit rather than waiting till I was already in Morocco to start the contact.

Last Friday was the day of my visit. It went well, though it was exhausting. I talked to five classes of 7^th graders and by the end of the day I was whipped. Not that they were bad. On the contrary, they were very good – not only in their behavior, but in their preparation. They knew where Morocco was. Some knew about the unrest in North Africa. They’d studied Islam a few weeks ago and astonished me by volunteering all kinds of information about it, including the Five Pillars of Islam. They were curious and smart and active and all so different. Engaging with them for a whole day was…intense. I must say, teachers really earn their keep.

The objective of my visit was not so much to talk about the Peace Corps and Morocco, but to let them get to know me as a flesh and blood person. They asked terrific questions, like why did I join the Peace Corps, what did I think I would miss the most, what did I think was the most important thing I was taking with me, and of course lots of personal questions about my age, family, etc.

To help objectify what I was doing I took all of my packed bags with me and wore the clothes I plan to wear on the plane when I leave. Basically, I took with me all of, and only, the things I plan to take with me to Morocco. The kids were interested not so much in what I was taking but how heavy the bags were. Several offered that I could put them in my bags and still meet the 80 pound weight limit, which prompted all kinds of smart remarks.

They really liked seeing Arabic written, which I discovered by accident during the third class, when we finished early. The teacher had stepped out of the room temporarily. In desperation to fill the time, I wrote شكراً (shukran – thank you) on the whiteboard. A kid asked me if I could write his name in Arabic. Then the word spread, so that in the remaining two classes, kids asked early on if I would write their names in Arabic.

I also played a short mix of “travelin’ music” as class was beginning. And I made my first-ever video, “The Further Adventures of the Earl of Luggage,” as part of my presentation, and I’ve attached the video here for your entertainment. Haven't figured out how to attach music to this blog yet, so I've listed the tunes here: "Movin' Right Along" (The Muppet Movie); "America"(Simon & Garfunkel);"On the Road Again" (Willie Nelson); "Ramblin' Man" (The Allman Brothers); "Everybody's Talkin'"(Harry Nillson); "Like a Rollin' Stone" (Bob Dylan); and, of course, "The Marrakesh Express" (Crosby, Stills and Nash). I'd be curious to know what tunes other people would add to the list.

The school visit was a great learning experience for me in many ways, but the really BIG LESSON came out of my packing early. As the video shows, even though I pared back the items I wanted to take with me in order to meet weight, I still was unable to fit them all in my bags. If I had followed my usual behavior, I would have been packing on Sunday, March 13. And what would I have done then? At least now I have some time to make adjustments, though not a clue yet to what they will be.

Staging!

I didn’t realize that it had been so long since I last posted to this blog. A lot has happened in those two weeks.

The Great Blizzard of 2011

First, there was the Great Blizzard of 2011. I went to bed late the night of February 1, it was snowing but there was only an inch or so on the ground. When I got up six hours later, at 6:00 a.m., there was over a foot! The plows got the road cleared by the end of the day. Then the winds (30 mph) started, and by the next morning there were a couple of six-foot high drifts blocking the road. But storms like this are exciting, especially when you’re in a warm house. I remember only two others of comparable intensity in my lifetime, in back-to-back years, ’78 and ’79.

Then I spent a couple of days helping my younger son Joe clean up his apartment in Kalamazoo and move back to Grand Haven. He plans to work through next fall at the blueberry farm where he’s worked the past two summers, then hopes to go WWOOFing (?? – I didn’t know what it meant either when he first mentioned it to me).

The next day the winds began

And I’ve been taking care of some of the details of departure. I found a buyer for my car. We’re going to close the deal on March 10. He’s then going to drive me to Grand Rapids to my older son Robin’s home, where I’ll be staying the last few days before departure.

And this week there’s been a buildup in preparations from the Peace Corps. We’ve had several emails with questionnaires relating to language learning, personal information for host families, and program developments. That culminated today with “Staging” instructions. I just got off the phone making my plane reservations. I’m still scheduled to leave in mid-March.

I’m excited. But I won’t let myself get too excited. I’m not on that plane yet.

The Countdown Begins

On Friday, I received an email from Peace Corps informing me that I should receive a call from their travel office this week to make my plane reservations. I’m being intentionally vague at the Peace Corps’ request. No specific dates or flights or locations. No names of others in my group, etc. Suffice it to say, I’m still scheduled to depart in mid-March.

The countdown begins, and I’m pleased. Emotionally, I’m ready right now. In practical terms, I’m in good shape, too, though I still have a few things to do. And I could always use more time for language study and reading. I’m not using exclamation marks this time, because I know things can change, even at the last minute. Last fall, my assignment to Lesotho was cancelled 16 days before departure.

The unrest in other parts of North Africa and the Middle East are a concern, of course. Will Morocco also be affected? As a monarchy, Morocco’s government has more legitimacy than those in the other countries, ruled by strongmen who seized power sometime after independence and created authoritarian regimes to hold onto power. Morocco’s king, Mohammed VI, is well-loved. He took over in 1999 and introduced a number of liberalizing measures. Still, there are considerable similarities among the countries.

I’m sure the Peace Corps is monitoring the situation closely and will act appropriately to the situation. A friend of mine, who’s in the Peace Corps in Peru, emailed me the other day and quoted a Quaker proverb. I’ve adopted is as my motto: Proceed as the way opens.

IMPORTANT NOTE: The postal code in my Morocco address has changed. The correct code is 10080.

Letters!

In my mail Friday, I found three letters! What a lift to my spirits. They were all from friends who want to stay in touch while I’m away in Morocco for the next couple of years. Apparently spontaneously, they all decided to initiate the letter-writing before I leave. What a treat!

I went right out and bought some index cards and an index card  box so that I can keep track of written communications (gotta have a system!). Of course, now I have to write the replies. I spent the last couple of days in Grand Rapids with my older son, Robin, and his family. That’s my excuse for not having done so already. And a friend invited me over to watch the Chicago-Green Bay playoff game today….okay, so maybe I’ve procrastinate a little. But they’ll be in the mail tomorrow. Promise.

Learning Arabic (ensha'llah)

As part of my Peace Corps preparation, I’m studying Arabic. I just finished going through a workbook on the Arabic script. It’s challenging but satisfying. Right now, I’m still at the novice level, sort of like a second grader just beginning to learn cursive. It’s slow and paintstaking. It’s almost as if I have to draw each character, rather than write it.  I have two more months before I leave, so I hope to improve my facility considerably by then.

My next (and more important) challenge is the language itself, which I’ve barely begun. I listened to the tutorials the Peace Corps provided us, and I said, “Whoa, I’m not gettin’ this.” That’s when I turned back to the script. I’m a visual person. And hands on. The script is important for me to make the mental connections.

Some people just like to just leap right into the spoken language, but I don’t do well (or as well) with just that. I like grammar, too! Go figure.

The Arabic in the title is a common expression - God willing - used whenever talking about plans for the future. Given the number of changes in my Peace Corps program so far, perhaps I should include that in the heading of my blog as well!

Another Test

Son Joe and I spent the day in Grand Haven yesterday. When we got home, about 4:30, the cottage was cold, 52 degrees. The pilot light was out on the furnace, so I tried, unsuccessfully, to relight it. I was about to call our plumbing/heating guy, when I remembered that my ex had called two days earlier saying our propane supplier had phoned and said they couldn’t deliver because the road into the cottage area was icy. I checked the propane tank. Empty. This should never have happened, because we’re on an auto-fill contract, but it had.

I called the gas company. The best they could do – they said – was deliver within 24 hours. I was not pleased with that answer and this time did call our plumbing/heating guy to see if he had any recommendations on another company that would come out. He told me it was a futile search – they wouldn’t fill a competitor’s tank – and the best bet, as long ours was going to do it in 24 hours – was to get a couple of electric heaters and hunker down. He then, graciously, offered to loan me some of his. I drove into town to his shop and picked them up. By now it was 6:30, the outside temperature had sunk to 20, and the weather was getting really bad. When I got back to the cottage, I put one in the TV room, and one in each of the bedrooms, cranked them up and shut the doors. They became quite manageable – low 60s, probably. Joe and I microwaved some leftovers and watched a couple of movies (The American and The New Star Trek). By the time we went to bed (about 12:30) the temp in the rest of the house had dropped to 42.

I slept well and awoke at 7:00. Even though it was still dark, I knew immediately we’d had a big snow because it was stuck in the screens and piled on the mullions of the doors. I turned the outside light on as I let Jack out and watched him trudge through 8-10 inches of powder. Outside, the temperature was 10 degrees. The house, amazingly, was still not that bad, just under 40 degrees. I was doing all right in that without a jacket - only a heavy fleece and a stocking cap to keep my bald pate warm. It took me about an hour and a half to shovel the deck and stairs and by then the sun was peering above the dunes to create one of the more glorious mornings I’ve ever experienced. As the sun's rays hit the water of the Lake, tendrils of vapor started rising, eventually forming a cloud that sat down on the surface of the water about a quarter mile offshore. Overhead the sky was a piercing clear blue.

The propane truck arrived about 11:00. I was happy to hear the driver say that he should have been called out last night and that we wouldn’t be charged an emergency delivery or a pressure test fee because they should not have allowed the tank to go empty. By 11:30 the furnace was cranking out the heat again, and we were feeling pretty comfy.

And the test?

My patience, of course. But I did keep it.

But the one I was really thinking about was living without central heat, living in the cold. I doubt I’ll have electric heaters in Morocco, but this nevertheless convinced me that I can deal with the cold as long as I dress right.