Inshallah: the Worst Thing for a Cabbie to Say to a Worry Wort

So, for the people who know me fairly well know that I am what my mother affectionately considers a worry wort.  I worry about everything, and I mean EVERYTHING.   Honestly, I think I worry the perfect amount, but I suppose there are a few people who would beg to differ.  Being a worry wort has been an interesting experience while serving in the Peace Corps where things don't really seem to make sense all the time.  It has been even more interesting in a country where the phrase Inshallah (God willing) is the phrase to live by.


The phrase Inshallah is tied very closely to the Moroccan concept of time and functionality, like the examples below show:  
Sure we will meet for coffee at 3, God willing... (actual time, 4)
Sure, class starts at 5:30, God willing.... (actual time, 5:45-6)
Sure, the Post Office will be open and the ATM will be working, God willing... (hahahaha)
Sure, of course you will be able to get a taxi back from the small little village you are visiting, God willing... (hahahahahahahahahahah)
Hopefully you are starting to get the idea....


Inshallah is also tied very closely to the religion and the idea that one does not have control over ones life, God does, so if God is willing for it to happen when you hope it does (or around the time you hope it does) then it will.  And this is why I don't mind, and actually enjoy, the little nuances of the Moroccan concept of time and functionality tied to the phrase Inshallah.  I find everything much calmer here and not so fast paced, which is a nice change.  However, I am still having trouble getting used to the phrase being used in a cab like setting, and you know how much I trust cabbies...


Picture this, I get in a cab, tell the cabbie where I am going, and he says sure, INSHALLAH.  And I am like, WHAT! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IF GOD IS WILLING, you only have to drive FIVE MINUTES!  Shit, are you going to rob me?!  Are you going to drop me in the middle of no where because I am not from here and it would be funny!? Is your cab so shitty it might not make it!?  How can you tell me we might not actually make it to our destination!? WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON!!!! 


Please note that this dialogue is happening all in my head and I am not actually saying anything to the cabbie because my language skills are not advanced enough to express a total freak out.  But we, of course, as always, make it safely to the destination, and I pay the cabbie, embarrassed that I actually thought he might rob me etc.  


Well, at least the first stage of recovery is admitting you have a problem right?  So Inshallah these bouts of insanity I experience when stepping into a Moroccan cab will slowly fade away, just as soon as I stop being a worry wort, Inshallah...  

Couscous, the food so nice they named it twice!

Couscous is AMAZING because:


1. It just is, what the f*** is wrong with you?! 


2. See reason 1.


3. It is buttery and delicious and comes filled with vegetables that would be healthy if they were not soaked in massive amounts of butter.


4. Is eaten with the entire family.


5. Because it is eaten with the entire family, it is a great opportunity for them to all laugh at you as you still attempt to master the language.


6. It is a great opportunity to make cultural faux pas and then laugh about it.  Oh, that American is so silly...


7. Did I say it is buttery and delicious?


8.  It is not served with lamb penis.


9. It IS served with this interesting tasting yoghurt drink, that if you just suck it up and drink, will win you the esteem of EVERYONE at the table.


10. Once winning the esteem of everyone at the table, you will then be deemed eligible for marriage RIGHT NOW, even if you don't want to get married RIGHT NOW, it doesn't matter, because who doesn't want to be married? Marriage is AMAZING! Oh the silly American...

Dude, I think you just ate a penis.

Scene: Dinner table at my homestay with my male site mate.

Me: Dude, what is that?
Site mate: I am not sure? (eats a little of it)
Me: Um, dude.
Site mate: What?
Me: That totally looks like a penis.
Site mate: (looks at it) Shit, it does.
Me: OMG YOU JUST ATE THE LAMB'S PENIS!
Site mate: No I didn't, they said it was a muscle!
Me: Um YEAH, what do you think a penis is? Plus they didn't offer it to me did they? Just you.
Site mate: Shit.
Me. hahahahahaha
Site mate: I'm not convinced it was the penis.
Me: Ok, well whatever makes you feel better...


End Scene.

How to teach a workout class in Darija (Moroccan Arabic)

I have no idea, why are you asking me!?  But I probably should find out since I will be teaching workout classes at my center three times a week.  This is going to be interesting...


The first two classes I "taught" went "well".  It was a mix of aerobics, yoga, pilates, belly-dance and anything else I could pull out of my a** in two seconds.  The trick is to not let anyone sense that you have no idea what you are doing.  Ok, ok, now I don't want you getting the wrong impression.  The class did go well and the women in my class were so amazing and patient, but explaining that tree pose is a great way to stay centered and how important it is to be centered in one's life is not that easy to say in Darija.  I didn't even try to explain the importance of a strong core, that wasn't in my Darija dictionary.  


So teaching workout classes is one of the things I will be doing for the next two years inshalla.  Not too shabby I must say.  I am hoping to focus on yoga and pilates since that is what I know best, and maybe sprinkle a little dance in it, something like yoga-dancealates (copyright Lucia Cucinotta so don't steal it!)  Now if only I knew more Darija...story of my life.

This is going to be the good life!

I did it! I made it! Finally!  I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer!! WooHoo!  I have no idea what I will be doing or exactly what my new home is like, but isn't that all part of the charm of Peace Corps?  


So far during Community Based Training I was hit in the face with a boob, laughed at by my host mom for for attempting to do anything domestic because lets be real I had no idea what I was doing (at least I am amusing), saw a sheep get slaughtered, felt bad, and then ate it because meat is AMAZING, was rewarded for being a sassy pain in the a** by being elected as the representative to the Volunteer Advisory Committee, and went to the dentist!  Yes, went to the dentist AND got a filling (which was not as scary as I thought)!  Don't worry, my filling is white, my mother would kill me if it was any other way!  Maybe me insisting to the Peace Corps that I need to go to a place that can give me a white is one of the reasons I am considered a pain in the a**?  But I am from New Jersey so really it could be anything...


I am not sure what my internet connectivity will be like, but once I get something consistent I will post more about me being a pain in the a** or just funny stories about me not knowing what the f**** I am doing, which is actually ALL the time...story of my life.


p.s. if there is anyone who is reading this because they want to learn more about  what it will be like serving in the Peace Corps, don't believe a word I am saying.  The most important thing I have learned so far is don't believe a word any Peace Corps Trainee or Volunteer says, because they are full of s**t, including me.  Ok not full of s**t, but speaking from what cross culturalists call your "lens".  As cheezy as this is, the Peace Corps experience is really your own, how you will deal with a new culture is really all your own, and how you will deal with uncertainty is really all your own, and how you will deal with crazies is really all your own.  God speed and be prepared to have your MIND BLOWN!  

The Year of Adventure: site placement, camel burgers, and Peace Corps, oh my!

                                                                (camel burgers are cool)

It is official, the Year of Adventure has begun!  First, I ate a camel burger!  VERY adventurous of me, no?  I was however a little disappointed, I was not really tasting the camel.  Maybe I was too infatuated with my date milkshake, but I think the burger just lacked the "wow I am eating a F***ing camel burger!" factor.  


I also now know where I will be living for the next two years!  I will be an hour away from Marrakech and two from Essouria.  And that is literally all I know. ADVENTURE!  I am honestly very excited about this experience, because this is what the year of adventure is all about!


Finally, the Peace Corps.  Oh how you have been an adventure and will continue to be one!  Oh how I love the sometimes culturally insensitive things my fellow PCs say and the constant wondering if I am the one who is OUT OF MY MIND or if it is the people around me.  But is this not the story of my life?


SO yes, this is the beginning of my Year of Adventure, I hope you all enjoy the ride :)  

So, turns out you really only need eight words to semi-survive in Morocco...

                                                     ( me looking like I know what I am doing)


Greetings are VERY important in Moroccan culture, so much so that you really only need eight words to semi-survive in Morocco while somewhat looking like you know what you are doing, these are:


salam: hello
labas: good
kulshi: everything
bixir: fine
l-Hamdullah: thanks to be God
inshallah: if God wills
mzyan: good
bslama: goodbye


Below is a typical conversation I have everyday:


Moroccan (who is acting like they know me): Salam!
Me (trying to act cool like I know them but secretly have no idea, did I see them at the hammam the other night?): Salam!
Moroccan: Labas?
Me: Labas inshallah! Labas?
Moroccan: Labas inshallah, kulshi bixir?
Me: Kulshi bixir inshallah! Mzien?
Moroccan: Kulshi mzien inshallah!
Me: Mzien, mzien!
Moroccan: (says something I cannot understand because I do not know that much Darija)
Me: inshallah! (I am asking this hoping it is the right answer, but I really have no idea)
Moroccan: Mzian! (yes! I answered correctly!) Bslama!
Me: Bslama! (thinking to myself that I hope I didn't just get invited to dinner because I have no idea who this person is...)


Story of my life, the end.