Posting to: Some sort of peppy Arabic/Europop mix on Radio 2M, thanks to my cybercafé’s new stereo system.
Our week of in-service training wrapped up on Friday evening, and after spending Saturday in Marrakech proper watching Michigan football and eating Thai food, and spending all of Sunday on the bus, I’m finally back home in my site. I always feel a bit low after training sessions, as I seem to lose my groove after being gone for so long. However, my feelings have manifested themselves in a creative way this time around:
After a week of only catnapping (no one ever sleeps very much during training) and a ten-hour busride back down south, I arrived in my souqtown around 8:30p last night in a state of zombie-like fatigue. I stumbled into another volunteer’s apartment, mumbled a quick thanks for letting me crash here and fell asleep almost immediately. It was supposed to be a glorious and refreshing slumber. The alarm wasn’t set, and a date with the internet was the only thing planned for the next morning.
In the middle of what was supposed to be a rejuvenating coma, I woke up with tears streaming from my eyes. I had dreamt that my best friend in country – the other Michigan graduate, believe it or not – had chosen to ET: he was leaving the Peace Corps, and the country, before completing his two years of service. I dried my eyes, grabbed a drink of water and after looking at the time (3:25a), went back to bed.
I woke up again at a more reasonable hour, and had a hard time opening my eyes. I grumbled a bit, knocked over that glass of water while looking for my glasses, and headed to the bathroom where I found that and my right eye was in fact badly swollen due to a spider bite.
What a cheap shot. I’ve suffered from all sorts of bug-related ailments since arriving in country, but I’ve never been bitten on the eyelid. The spider I fell asleep on explains why I woke up crying (I had probably been itching in my sleep), and why I now look like I’ve been in a fistfight, but really – on my eyelid? That’s a low blow.
Host Brother is going to have a fit when he sees me looking like this.
Shiners aside, this week is going to be an emotional one. Not only am I trying to find my way back in to the swing of Berber life again, but my three closest volunteers (and three of the most genuine ladies I’ve met in country so far) are COSing – kind of like graduating – in seven days. I’m going to get a lot of nice stuff for my house, and redecorating will keep me busy… but it’s still going to be a rough goodbye.
On an unrelated note, the Twitter thing came up again this week over dinner one night. So you all know, I tried to Tweet. I really did! I’m just not that kind of girl, it turns out. Nothing funny came from my attempt at Tweeting, so the fruits of my labor are not being posted. Sorry to get your hopes up.
MAROC, JE T'AIME 