Fail.

In Peace Corps, as in life, you will fail, or you will feel like you have failed.  It is all part of the charm.  I mean really, how will you ever really appreciate what you have accomplished if you have never known what it is like to get kicked in the kidneys a few times?  Though lets be honest here, it is much easier to say than actually ENJOY the experience of failure for its character building charm.  Coming into Peace Corps I knew I was going to fail at a few things (or feel like I had failed a few things), fail at communication, fail at teaching english, and fail in my attempt to convince people I am not mskina or stupid.  But knowing and actually living those failures has been...charming, really really charming.  For example:


Center Employee:  It is HOT today!
Me: Yeah, I know!
Center Employee: Why are you here?
Me: I have English class...
Center Employee: But no one is here.  It is just so hot, shame you came all the way here in this heat for no one to show up.
Me: I know (fail)


Me: Nakhla Juj (Palmtree 2, the neighborhood where I live)
Cabbie: waxxa, fin f Nakhla Juj (ok, where in Nakhla 2) 
Me: qrib hammam u j-jam3 (near the hammam and mosque)
Cabbie: Fin? (where)
Me: qrib hammam u j-jam3
Cabbie: Fin?
Me: qrib hammam u j-jam3
Cabbie: Fin?
Me: qrib hammam u j-am3
Cabbie: Fin!?
Me: QRIB HAMMAM U J-JAM3
Cabbie: Fin!?
Me: (gets out and walks...fail)


Woman at aerobics class: Hahaha, it is funny that you teach aerobics but you are fat like us! (grabs stomach fat and squeezes it and jiggles it a few times while telling all the other women to look)
All the women in aerobics class: hahahahahahahahahah
Me: It is not normally this big, I just ate a lot of couscous today
All the women in aerobics class: hahahahahahahah, you have so much stomach fat!
Me: (roll eyes...fail)


Me: (in Darija) I would like to hang my English schedule up around town, is that ok with you?
Director: What?
Me: (in Darija) I would like to hang my English schedule up around town, is that ok with you?
Director: (blank stare) What?
Me: (in Darija) I have no students, so I need to market my class a little to get people to come.
Director: What?
Me: Never mind
Director: It is hot today
Me: Yes it is (fail)


Oh, the dialogues can go on and on and on and on...but I am sure you are getting the picture of what my life has been like so far.  And while I have had many accomplishments (at least for Peace Corps standards) a day does not go by where I don't feel like I have failed in one small way or the other.  But I keep reminding myself that it could always be worse, at least I am "failing" in a place like Morocco, where the food is AMAZING and the weather is like Florida.  So actually, maybe I am winning :)

I am mskina bzeef

I am mskina (sad) bzeef (really).  I don't know if you knew this, but I am.  I am the mskinaest person that people here in Morocco have met.  I am so mskina, that people constantly have to remind me in case I have forgotten.  I am introduced as Lucia, the mskina American.  I try to say that no I am not sad, I really love being in Morocco and I am happy, but I obviously have no idea what I am talking about so people ignore my efforts to state otherwise.  


I am mskina because:


1. I live by myself (actually I live on top of an amazing family that feeds me everyday and who I watch Turkish soap operas with, but that doesn't seem to matter)
2. My family is in America and I can't talk to them because it is sooo expensive (not true, there is something called email, which turns out is free)
3. I am not married, YET, but someone knows of a very nice man who wants to go to America (YES! JACKPOT!)
4. I don't speak the language (well I DO speak the language, people just don't understand what I say, they keep expecting the white girl to speak French, and when she doesn't they are too confused to re-group and try to understand what I am saying)
5. I work and can't sit home all day and watch TV (it doesn't matter if I don't find the idea of watching TV all day fun)
6. I am not married (did I already say that?)
7. I can't cook tajines or couscous or bake bread (I can cook other things, but REAL women can cook tajines and couscous and bake bread, so, I am screwed on this one until I learn how to be a real woman)
8. Since I am not Moroccan, people charge me triple of what I should really pay so I am constantly getting taken advantage of (which isn't actually true, but that doesn't seem to matter either)
9. I don't have air-conditioning (ok, I will give them that one)
10. I have NO friends, how can I, I don't speak the language (which yet again isn't true, I have friends, who also speak English)


So there you have it, the reason why I am mskina bzeef.  Like I said, it doesn't matter if the reasons why I am mskina are true or false.  People find the idea that I am American AND mskina charming, story of my life...   

The American at the Moroccan Wedding

Weddings in Morocco are INSANE.  I danced until 4 in the morning, 4 IN THE MORNING!  And there was NO liquor, yeah I know right?  There was a tent set up in front of the bride's family's house and it was PACKED with invitees and I think people who just came off the street who happened to be wearing kaftans?  The bride changed 5 times, first a green outfit, then a white and brown outfit, then an orange outfit, then a blue and silver outfit, and THEN a white outfit.  Each outfit was more extravagant than the next with different tiaras, jewels, and weave to match.  In the time she changed she even re-did her makeup to match the outfit! CRAZY!  The wedding consisted of us eating, dancing, and watching the bride and groom be prodded by the bossy wedding planners and photographer to make sure they got the PERFECT photo, hopefully out of the million they took they will find one they like. 


My very nice landlady (who calls herself my Moroccan mother) was nice enough to lend me a Kaftan, which is a long sleeved dress with a belt.  See below:  

And then this is what happens when an American goes to a wedding in Morocco dressed like a Moroccan:


1.  Arrive.  
Everyone stops and stares at you.  They are all very confused, what is this American girl doing wearing a kaftan?  Where is she from?  Why is she trying to speak to me in Darija?  


2. Answer the same questions over and over again.  
Partygoer: Are you married?
Me: No (here we go again...)
Partygoer: How old are you?
Me: 27
Partygoer: WHAT!  You know the bride is 17, and she is getting married, so why are you not married?
Me: (in English) Because I am an old hag
Partygoer: What? I don't understand?
Me: Never mind


3. Eat.
You will be served TWO dishes.  A chicken dish and then a beef dish with prunes.  Do not listen to the other women at the table to "eat eat eat" the first dish, because then you will not be able to eat the second dish, and then everyone will ask you if you are trying to lose weight so you can find a husband.  And you will say "yes, that is exactly why I am not eating, because I am a fatty and need to find a husband". 


4. Take an awkward picture with the bride and groom.
Remember, just like in America, the wedding is not for the bride and groom, it is for the guests.  The bride and groom will spend the entire wedding sitting on a throne like couch while the wedding photographer and planners put them in different poses for pictures they can appreciate later.  They don't get up, except to change outfits, they don't talk to other guests, and they don't dance until the very end.  Oh, they also don't really smile.  The wedding planners are SCARY and the bride and groom are too concerned about not pissing the planners off any more for not making the correct pose for the camera.  One of the few interactions the bride and groom have with the guests is when you can go up to the bride (as everyone stares at you, because they all want to know what the American is going to do next), say thank you so much you look beautiful, and then take an picture awkwardly standing next to the bride and groom you have NEVER met before.  


5. DANCE.
You are expected to dance.  People want to see if the American, who can dress like a Moroccan, can dance like a Moroccan.  So you dance, you dance your Moroccan slippers off.  Follow what the kids are doing, they are CRAZY good dancers.  Plus people will think you are such a good English teacher because look how good you are with the kids!    Even if you are tired or feel like a complete fool, keep dancing.  Because let me tell you, the next day when you see people on the street they will all comment on how AMAZING you are because you can dance.  So dance monkey, dance.

Dance Monkey, DANCE!

I dance.  Every single day in the Peace Corps I dance like a monkey, and people LOVE it.  You HAVE to dance in the Peace Corps, at least Peace Corps Morocco, because really, what else are you going to do?  Yes I teach English and aerobics, but increasingly I am finding that Peace Corps Morocco is more of a diplomatic mission to get people to see just how nice Americans are.  So I dance, dance like a crazy monkey, and people eat it up and love me for it and then they feed me.


Here is a perfect example:


Scene: Walking in my town to English class, go to a store for a coke.


Me: A'salam wa'alekum! Kif dary? (Hello, how are you?)
Store owner: (look of utter shock on face)
Me: Labas?! Kulshi bixir?! (good? is everything good?)
Store owner: You speak arabic?
Me: Iyeah! Kan tkllm shwiya arabia, shiway bzeef! hahahahahah (yes! I speak a little arabic, very little)
Store owner: You are amazing! Hey (to the store owners next to him and people in store) this white girl speaks arabic!
Other People: No way! Wow! Where do you live?! Why are you here!? Are you married to a Moroccan?! Do you want to get married to a Moroccan? Why aren't you married to a Moroccan? We will find you a husband don't worry. Do you like tajine and couscous!? Can you cook tajine and couscous?! Wait, why are you here? Don't you miss your family?! Oh, she misses her family, she is just so sad.  Are you sad? But isn't Morocco beautiful?! Do you think Morocco is beautiful!? How is the weather?! Do you like the weather?! Which is better, Morocco or America? You can say Morocco, it is ok, we won't tell your family back home! Wait, so when you say you live here, you mean you actually live here! Why? Isn't Morocco great! Don't you love the food!? Which soccer team do you like better, Barcelona or Madrid?..... 
Me: (dancing like a monkey)
People: (eating it up) You need to come to my house for couscous!
Me: Done!