Becky's No Good, Very Bad Day

Today started well enough – it was our first official staff meeting with the MEDA folks and the K-5 team had made plans to meet for lunch before our 3pm meeting. We had a pleasant and leisurely lunch and then split up for a while since we each had different errands to run while we were in the 'big' city of Khenifra. I cut my time at the internet cafe a little close and was power-walking to the office and hoping that this meeting, like all the others, would start late. I was right. The 5 PCV's spent 45 minutes in the conference room waiting for everyone else to join us.

Once the meeting finally started, Mr. S told us they would do their best to translate, but we might not follow everything. We spent the next 2.5 hours listening to a meeting conducted almost entirely in Arabic and French, 2 languages none of us speak! Mr. S has taken a liking to Elizabeth and MEDA is doing a lot of work in her site, so he took time to get her up to speed, but left the rest of us hanging.

I was hitching a ride home with Sidi Mo (MEDA, not my host uncle), Said and Rachida, so I hung around after the meeting while they finished up a few things in the main office. I was feeling rather down...aside from the whole not understanding the meeting thing, the weather was hot, the meeting room hotter and there wasn't any water to drink, so I had developed a headache and was kind of cranky.

As we walked to meet Sidi Mo across town, I asked Said what they talked about in the meeting. He told me it was an update for Mr. S and that I didn't really need to know. Mr. S requested our presence at the meeting, so I'm thinking he wanted us to know what was going on. I persisted and Said turned to me and said, “You didn't understand anything in the meeting?” “Hello!” I wanted to scream, “the meeting was conducted in 2 languages I don't know! Of course I didn't understand.” Instead I calmly told him I did not and repeated my request for an explanation.

Said speaks some English and between his English and my Tamazight and the similarity of many words between French and English, we usually communicate pretty well. By pretty well, I mean it takes us twice as long as if we both spoke the same language frequently, but hey its better than nothing. Said had taken time before to explain things to me, so I was a bit miffed by his dismissiveness.

Rachida joined the conversation to get a few punches in. She wanted to know why I didn't come to the El Kebab office and ride to Khenifra with them. I explained to her that the K-5 team got together for lunch and that I had told Said I wasn't going to meet them. We had this exchange about 5 times, back and forth essentially saying the same thing. I gave up which I don't usually do, but I couldn't see an end and I felt like she just wanted to pick on me for something.

By this time we had made it to the car, but Sidi Mo wasn't around. Said walked to the cafe he usually hangs out in and left Rachida and I waiting at the car. At this point, now that I'm feeling really crummy and the headache is getting worse, Rachida tells me that Sarah (the volunteer who finished her 2 years in May) spoke 4 languages – French, Arabic, Tamazight and English. She ticked them off on her fingers for emphasis. Then she kind of smirked at me as if to say I wasn't good enough. A little note about Sarah, she came to Morocco speaking French fluently and learned Tamazight during training and then switched to Arabic once she got to her village. So she really only spoke a little Tamazight and Arabic, but apparently that was enough.

I decided I was done for the day and really just wanted to go home. Rachida's comment left me feeling more than inadequate and wondering what the heck I was going to accomplish if I couldn't communicate with my co-workers and boss. Sidi Mo and Said arrived and we got on the road. Almost immediately, they tried to convince me to stay in EEK instead of going “all the way” to the Sisterhood. My village is 14k (approximately 8 miles) and about 15 or 20 minutes away from EEK. I was wondering why they even offered me a ride if they didn't want to give me one and thinking I should have just taken a taxi because I couldn't really bear all they badgering about staying in EEK. They even told me I could stay with the youth development volunteer who lives there! I happened to know that she was out of town and told them as much and then they offered for me to stay with Sidi Mo's family!

This line of conversation got dropped because we made a u-turn at the outskirts of Khenifra to see a house Rachida was thinking about buying. This turned into at least an hour long affair involving an argument with a man who seemingly was just trying to help. The “house” is an abandoned building that may have once been a house but isn't anymore. There was a telephone number painted on the wall and this man was telling Sidi Mo to call and talk with this person. I don't know all that transpired, but voices were raised, hands were flailing and I was sitting thinking, “Boy, does my head hurt. I'd really like to go home.”

Meanwhile, I was attracting quite a following of young children, 20 at least who followed us at a close distance and would shout, “Bonjour Madame!” or “Ca va?” I tried my usual tactic of ignoring them, but that didn't work. They just stood there and watched me and then the group would push one of them forward and he or she would repeat the “Bonjour!” Then the started singing, which really aggravated me. My head was pounding and this was making it so much worse.

Said took notice and told them to go away. They simply backed up a few feet. I told Said about my headache and asked if I could sit in the car. He unlocked the doors and I sat back and closed my eyes. Even after more admonitions from Said, the kids continued to hover and shout a “Bonjour” every now and then. At some point they found the owner of the house who had blueprints that were consulted over a pot of tea, while I tried to remain calm.

Once everyone piled back into the car and we got on the road, it was close to 8pm and the sun was starting to set. The conversation turned back to my staying in EEK, which I had no intention of doing. Even though I still feel like a guest with my host family, its the closest thing to home I have and its the only place I wanted to be. I finally convinced them on the grounds of not having my contact case or glasses with me. This was quite a conversation as I tried to explain contacts – it wasn't working very well. “Glasses for your eyes,” and hand motions of putting something in my eye had them thoroughly confused. Luckily, Sidi Mo was the aforementioned Sarah's host father and she wore contacts, so he explained the situation.

The Sisterhood had just come into sight when Sid Mo slammed on the brakes and pulled over. “Haddou's car is here. You get out and stay with him.” Oh how my heart sank. We were at the junction 4k from my village where the road meets the main highway to Khenifra. There are a couple cars that look like Haddou's so I thought maybe it wasn't him, but before I could gather my things there was my host father saying hello to Said. I reluctantly got out of the car and joined Haddou and several other men drinking tea.

Among them was another man from town who I know through his daughter and his work with the association. He insisted on feeding me and brought me back a yogurt drink and something like a hostess cake. Although I wasn't feeling hungry, I ate it all and somehow felt a little better. As I was sitting there trying to follow the conversation, a pickup truck with an entire soccer team pulled up. They must have won their match because they were singing and beating drums! Oh could this day get any worse I thought as my head started to pound with the beat of the drum. Luckily they were stopping to pick up soda's or something because they didn't stay long and my head returned to its own beat.

The men seemed to be conducting a business meeting and Haddou seemed to be the moderator. I observed quietly for a while and once they were finished, the conversation turned to me. I must have been showing my tiredness because Haddou asked if I wanted to go home. I promptly said yes. One of the other men drove me home and we talked for a few minutes about what Id done in Khenifra. It gave me hope for my language abilities as we communicated fairly well.

I was so happy to see my house. It was 9:30 or so when I got home and dinner wouldn't be for another hour at least. I told my host mom that I was going to bed and she tried to convince me to eat, but for once, I prevailed and went to bed without eating.