rêve marocain

In joining Peace Corps, initially I had minimal intent toward bettering the world. A bit embarrassing to admit, but it's the truth. Rather, I needed to escape from a personal rut and the bounds of my comfort zone, and viewed the "world peace" and "international development" aspects as attractive side effects. If I could contribute to those, great-- but I needed to do something for myself first.

I haven't often thought of my service as a job, but more of an opportunity to experience a series of environments and relationships-- an experiment, in a way-- to put myself in an entirely new situation and see how it goes. The relationships formed here-- the potential they have overturned, the good examples that have been shared, and the friendships that have come to be-- are by far the most rewarding aspects of the experience, and are where the most significant successes can be found, in my opinion. Though it feels unwieldy and pretentious to consider myself a facilitator of world peace, I believe that when people from different worlds come to understand and respect one another, it's a step in the right direction-- one that echos out long after the initial parties have gone their separate ways. The effects of our having known one another will carry on after my departure, through them in Morocco, and through me in America.

The friends I've found are some of the wisest people I have ever met, though they don't realize it. They live without concerns for status or reputation, ignoring the expectations of anything or anyone in order to share a connection with others, and for the joy that can be found there. I have looked up to them, learned from them, and am forever humbled by their struggles, hard work, and the spirit they retain despite such hardship and no promise of anything. Their families have taken me in, called me their son and have shown me warmth unlike any I have ever felt.

One constant of my service has been the dream-like quality to it all. Many times I have literally stopped in awe and disbelief that this is the life I get to live. I wake up each morning and look out over snow-capped mountains and a green valley. Forests, a river, olive groves, almond trees, wheat fields and a mountain range are my backyard. I walk down the street and am greeted by people who have accepted me into their place and their lives. I am lucky, grateful and can't help but occasionally feel undeserving of it all.  

I've had the support of the Peace Corps community-- fellow volunteers and sitemates, my family, friends back home, and a partner who fell into my lap four months into my service, who has waited this out with me for nearly two years, helping me through every step. I was able to show this place to my brother, who can indeed report that I haven't just been somewhere in the Bahamas the whole time. 

Looking through my photos, their inadequacy is striking. Reading past blog entries and the journals I've kept since minutes after leaving home, I can tell they don't reflect accurately what this has all been. I wouldn't expect them to, but I've tried, and I'm glad I have them. Only the experience can equal the experience, and it only happens once like this. It will all seem like a dream the moment I step off the plane, and there's nothing I can do to prevent that. Perhaps the truest ways I will see Morocco will be in my own thoughts and actions to come-- those parts of people I've known having become a part of myself, and in the confidence that comes from having done something I once couldn't even fathom.

The path through these last twenty seven months has reinforced my belief in the precept that things are always happening as they should, even if you can't see why or how at the time-- and that whatever you need at the moment is there for you. It has proved itself to me time and again, and shapes the way I try to live.

I think that to better the world, each person has to work to better him or herself. I'm glad I made the decision to join Peace Corps, selfish as it may have been at the time. It's the best thing I've ever done. As it turns out, the desire to be a better person hasn't been as one-sided as one might think. It's a process-- an exchange, nudged along by the help and example of others-- one that requires a lot of giving, and one that can continually be improved upon.

The days here lately are as beautiful as any I have ever seen. I find that trying to appreciate something "more" because you're about to part with it never seems to really work. You just gotta do what you normally do, while you can. Speaking of which, there's a knock at the door... I'll be out for a walk.