Boston Your My Home...

On Monday November 14th I informed the Peace Corps that I would be early terminating (ET) my service, I will not go into the details as to what brought me to make that no-turning-back phone call, lets just say it was the combination of many things that added up to "...Time for this one to come home". But I made the call without reservations, because I have felt all along in this process that had me moving to Africa to serve in the Peace Corps that if at anytime I felt the pull from home either externally or internally that I would go where I was needed more. If you read my musing here at all you know that I have many "philosophical" issues with the Peace Corps as an organization and the way it laid out (or lack of) the structure of the Small Business Development Program that I was assigned, along with the news last February that SBD program was being terminated and would not continue beyond 2012. When I sat back and weighed it all it became clear to me that after over 14 months living and serving in Morocco it was time for me to leave... so I did.

The six days between the minute I made the call and the time I touched down in Logan Airport was an exhausting period, much like leaving to come to Morocco, putting a cap on 14 months in a 5 day window is mentally tiring... between closing a life in my city of Sefrou, medical exams in Rabat and getting all the proper signatures to leave is crazy busy. Yet come Friday afternoon I was done and Saturday hopped a multi-leg flight to Boston and into the arms of my loved ones... exhausted but happy to be home. Now it is time to enjoy the holidays with family get reaquianted with America and look forward to 2012 and beyond.

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The following is from my DOS (description of service) that I had to fill out for the Peace Coprs before they let me leave...haha.

During his service, James’s main responsibilities included:
Marketing and Graphic Design. Upon getting settled in Sefrou after swearing-in I quickly decide that my skills could be best used in Morocco by helping as many artisans around the country versus the Peace Corps’s simplistic view of working with just one artisan in my site. Upon meeting my “counterparts” and seeing that they had been the benefit of multiple PCVs over the last decade and well advanced in their business, I became very comfortable with the path I had chosen. Also at this time we began to learn that the Small Business Development Program was being terminated in Morocco which further feed my need to branch out of the antiquated model that the Peace Corps employs in the SBD program.

Below is a list of completed tasks within my first year as a PCV:
(January-April) Worked Marketing/Advertising for the Marché Maroc Fés Craft Show, working within a three person marketing team we redesigned the logo and branding of the Marché Maroc name. Marché Maroc Fés craft fair was the most successful one to date and I would like to think that bringing a more professional look to the branding played a small part. The Marketing team had grand plans to take the Marché Maroc to a much higher level while preparing HCN to take over leadership roles within the structure of the Craft Fair. But with the demise of the SBD program in Morocco the timeframe to accomplish handing over the craft fair to HNC was impossible and became pointless.
(February-March) Created a business card for the Coopérative Ismoune in Tighassaline.
April-June) Created a business card for the Coopérative Andaz Nouska in Midelt, redrew the coopérative’s logo to supply them with a high resolution file to be use for future marketing material. Created a tri-fold, full-color brochure for Coopérative Andaz Nouska.
(May) Design a logo for the Coopérative Charouk in .
(March-April) Designed a new logo, business card, and labels for the argan oil Association Dchers-Commune Sidi dahmane in Taroudant.
(May-June) Designed a logo for Tigmi Bags a Coopérative in Tigmijjou.
(June-July) Redesigned a product brochure for the Coopérative Adwal in Rabet El Khira.
(September) Designed a new logo and business cards for Coopérative Toudart Iwsta in Midelt.
Additional activities James participated in:
(March) Health: Created a medication form for illiterate patience, using icons along French and Arabic text. (The idea of a YD PCV)
(June) Created a product/sales tracking form for Marche Maroc, using icons and French. (Idea of two PCVs(SBD))
(February) Did some cartoons for a PCV for the handling and storage food around her village. Do not know the outcome of the illustrations.
(April and June) Drawing of city maps for both Marche Maroc cities (Fes and Essouria)
(June) Gave a presentation at IST along with a 2nd year PCV on Marketing and Design.
(Spring) One of the originators of the Marche Maroc Sustainability Committee, but soon decided to remove myself from this project. My reason for withdrawing from this committee was that I saw it as a complete dead end when upper levels of Peace Corps could not see the benefit and gave lackluster support for the sustainability of the Marche Maroc craft fairs.
(Summer) Working with English speakers in Sefrou to practice their language skills as there are very few English speakers in my city.
(February) Helped local artisan get a travel visa to America for her oldest son to accompany her to the Santa Fe Craft Fair.

Project/tasks started but not completed at this date:
I was asked my staff member to look over the ARM Art Resource Manual) that prior PCVs had created... to edit and re-layout the manual. I started this and got to a point where I was missing material and never had a chance to finish it.
(August -) Began creating a product catalog for Tigmi Bags a Coopérative in Tigmijjou, which could be the backbone of a website.
(October -) Started a product brochure for the Coopérative Toudart Iwsta in Midelt, but project has stalled due to artisan not supplying information.
(September -) Created a “beta” Wordpress website for the purpose of redesigning the current Wordpress website for the Coopérative Adwal in Rabet El Khira, but the holidays and lack of input form the coop has stalled this project.
The uncompleted project could still be completed by me from America if the PCV and I agree to continue or the PCV can complete the project themselves or with another PCV.
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Not bad for a years worth of work... :) I removed the refernce to all the PCVs I worked in tandem on each project for this posting (to protect the innocent..haha). I have NO regrets about my joining the Peace Corps, my service in Maroc, or my decision to leaving early... life is too short to fret and too precious not to embrace every minute.

bslama Maroc.... hello America.

Something New... Something Old

Something New: Decided to travel to Fes today and pickup a few things... so a grand taxi is needed. Off I go to the grand taxi stand for Fes and low and behold there is an area with police like fences and everyone is waiting in an orderly line to ge into the next cab... OMG did the earth stop spinning, people here waiting in a line to get the next taxi instead of he circus shitshowI have witnessed for 15 months. And now for the kicker... people actually seemed to like the idea... WTF why wouldn't they there is order first come first served versus a free-for-all. I smiled and thought there is hope after all.
Something Old and Gets Old: Well once again I was in a full taxi and the woman next to me starts getting sick... throwing up into a plastic bag. Now I know people get sick, but this has to be the 4-5th time I have been in a taxi and this happens and of course almost every bus ride has at least 2 or 3 people getting sick. Not sure why I shared that but I did.

Thats One Big Friggin Door...

Working on the door... still not complete but almost there, I will be putting my paints down for a few days as I address some pressing issues that need to resolve. I will get back to it and work on the shadows above the door and refine the reflections on the vehicle... so far I am very happy with this piece and looking forward to signing it. I have a few other doorways in Morocco to capture... inshallah I will create a series of a half dozen of so.

Thank for taking the time to look at my work... today is Sunday and that means I follow football at night here... no video just a scroll across my screen telling me who did what... of course we are talking football not soccer. I am in the fantasy football league here in Peace Corps Maroc and holding my own.

Random Thoughts and Fears

Piles of Skins... Last night as I was getting ready to crawl under bzzf blankets I glanced out my window to see the piles of fresh sheep skins lining the sidewalk... fast forward to early this morning as I opened the windows to a beautiful "Paris" blue sky and low and behold all but a few of the skins were gone... where did they go in 7 hours? I can hear every sound that takes place outside my window and I did not here any commotion such as the lifting and hauling of a ton plus of sheep skins? Maybe the big bad wolf came by.
Sheep's Head and other delights... So I am hanging out at the local fire pit (think Pats tailgating) watching sheep heads and feet being cooked to a charcoal black... the heads freshly removed fom the body are carried in buckets or plastiic bags to the fire pit and tossed on the grill... eyes wide open and all. These young men covered in smoke make 15Dhs for each head and hooves... they were very busy. So as we wait for the head to be cooked to perfection I am discussion the possiblities of once again eating the head of this animal... so as the conversation lulls I say with a smirk on my face... "you know there is nothing better than a little"head" in the afternoon..." knowing full well that no one has any idea what I mean... and of course they all agree that head in the afternoon or evening for that matter is great. Sometimes I need those moments to keep me grounded... (yes I am bad)
Fear in the Turk... There is no other way to discribe the panic that runs through you when in a small turkish toilet you lose the grip on something and it begins to fall... TOWARD THE HOLE....NOOOOOOO!!! The panic starts the second it leaves your hand...you convulse trying to grab it and yet it is still traveling downward... as it hits the tile and spins and rolls always toward the hole of no return you starts playing goalie to keep it from the horror.... please Lord I do not want to have to fish this out of the hole. Sometimes it is just the cap to the deodorant... but sometimes it is more important such as your tooth brush. I keep a bottle in the hole as a plug when not in use for a number of reasons... from odor, if something lives in there to keep it in there, but mainly to stop the something from falling down it.
Movie time... Last night I watched a movie that I got from a friend, The Legend of the Fall with many great actors... as I was reading the subtitles about 20 minutes into the movie I realized that it was in French... why did it take me 20 minutes to make that connection. Have I been away from english for so long... or was I just so cold and tired that my brain stopped functioning... either way I watched the whole movie and enjoyed it.
Painting versus work... having a hard time getting motivated todo real work these days... I am painting which is great but I need to clear my head to get two projects back underway... inshallah.
That is it for today... day two of the holiday and I have an invite for more sheep.

Bab Number II

As i have written it is cold in my home and getting colder... so to keep warm I will need to paint, for anyone who has ever watched me work a canvas I am in constant motion. I stand and walk and move back and forth looking at the work from all angles... this is a good method when the temperature in my home is under 55 degrees. The blood is moving and I am lost in the work... my fingers start off cold and almost numb but minutes into it I am unaware of the cold and my fingers are no longer stiff.

This is the underpainting for my latest in Moroccan door series... ok there is no series (yet) so this is my second door. Using Burnt Umber, Cobalt Blue and a little white I thinned the paint with turps and a little Stand oil. The door is a well perserved and wooden and the tile roof above it is Morrocan green.

I will let this sit today and maybe start another piece if the mood strikes me. It is almost time to eat sheep.... as Homer Simpson might say "mmmmmm openface sheep sandwich....arggggggh."

Sheep Heads Soup...

Today is l'3id Kbir and there are sheep heads being cooked in the vacant field outside my window, but there is a different feel to the holiday here or at least on the surface. Back in TimHdite it was a carnival atmosphere with the killing of many sheep the game of the day... there was utter joy in the killing. Boujloud... people dancing and marching around wearing the just skinned sheep skins playing music and in general looking like a surreal version of a Disney parade.
Here in a larger city it is more subdued, like Easter morning very quiet and everything shutdown, with the few exceptions, such as the fore-mentioned grilling of sheepheads and the man with the grinding wheel sharpening knives.
For the last few days the sound of sheep being carted, dragged, herded around Sefrou has been the norm... do these animals know what time of year it is, can they sense that they are about to be slaughter in a very disturbing way. Held down and their necks slashed until they bleed out... it takes minutes and you can hear the poor animal gasp for each breathe as it shudders and just when you think it has finally sucummed to death... it has one last gasp of life... it is brutal... very brutal.
I understand the religious story and why sheep are killed and eaten... I just cant wrap my head around the way it is done... I do not see the respect for the animal... something has been lost from what I can see. But I am from a different cultural and I am sure there are many things that people here would find harsh or strange in my world. So I am about to embark once again into a week of nothing but eating sheep parts... most if not all of it... I hope this week goes by quickly.
Soon I will head out to eat with friend... I am clean and have my best clothes on (... well I dont really have nice clothes... so they are clean) I will bring a gift from the States that my Mom sent... baby clothes for the twins and get prepared to eat whatever is put before me... please no sheep head this year.
Mbruk l'3id...

A Hard Rain is Fallin... and Baby it Cold Inside... Again

After almost 9 months of no or very little rain the last week has been very New England like... forrid rain for days, temperatures in the 40-50's and a cold home... about to get colder. After a few days of heavy rains I also discovered that my kitchen ceiling leaks and spent one night catching water and mopping the floor. It took a little bit of time but I got the water to pool in one direction and into my wash tub... humdullah.
Now my home is not quite as cold as it was last year at this time in TimHdite but it is heading there... so far I am up to two heavy wool blankets, sleeping with my hat on again and during the day wearing a fleece, two shirts, coveralls and a hat indoors... when I go out I can remove the fleece..haha.
Time to breakout my small electric heater and crawl under the blankets and close my bedroom door and live in there once the sun sets. I guess the hardest part is that my fingers are aways cold and drawing and painting takes a little while to warm them up. It was my hope to be able to get through November without using the heater, but that is not happening... I can live with cold outside... it is insane to live that way indoors... last night I saw my breathe again in my house, that is never a good sign. The days of three cold bucket baths to cool off are done... now I may not bathe for days.

Vistors from another World...

I had my first (and maybe my last...haha) visitors from the States, my brother Tim and his wife Devra arrived into Fes and I meet them and off we went to the Medina at Bab R'Cif to the riad that they had booked. As anyone who follows a PCVers blog knows we tend to stay in the dirtest, nastiest and very cheap places (50-60dhs)... 5-6 in a room, no hot water, filthy turk and of course no toilet paper (we ALL travel with a roll). Well the place(s) that we stayed were OUTSTANDING!!! So zwin this place that it had slippers and robes... SLIPPER AND FRIGGIN ROBES!!! I must take a moment and thank them bother for treating me to this side of Maroc... it was such a nice gift... of course like any good PCV, I stripped the place of any food, soap, shampoo and I now have three sets of slippers.
Tim and Devra were here in Maroc for about one week, we shopped the medina in Fes... stopping at a shop and doing the mint tea while haggling over prices, an hour plus later we left with many gifts and the owner only overcharged us a little versus this orginal price. Fes my favorite city in Maroc and I think they enjoyed the medina which dates back to the 700AD and has over 300,000 people living in that maze of tiny streets. From Fes we landed in Sefrou and they got to see my city and place, a lovely dinner with my friend Ali and his lovely family capped our stay here. From Sefrou we headed to Meknes, Volubilis and Moudlay Idriss. Then on to Tanger and finally they took the ferry across to Tarifa, Spain and we said our goodbyes and tariq salam.
I guess I have been here too long... after a few hours here Tim and Devra were pointing out the "oddities" they saw in amazement and I was oh you find that odd? They also could not believe the smells and poor air quality and I did not smell anything unusal... as for the air quailty, well they say that the life expectance of a PCV is 7 years less than the average... so maybe the air here is shaving a few years off at the end... inshallah.
Finally... Thanks so much for coming to see me here and letting me experience Maroc as a tourist (ok more like a tour guide) and for saying that my language was good... HAHA.

Through The Looking Glass...

Self-portrait... Needing a break from thinking about what to paint next I pulled out a used 9 x 11 canvas board and did this self-portrait, using my fingers I applied the paint to build the structure of my face and capturing the light coming in the room from the right. In less than 2 hours I had this study in black/white, while using a little dioxazine purple and cobalt blue in the background... I think I am done with this as it was just a study, but if I think I want to refine it a "swiya" more than I will go into it in next day or so.
Working directly into the space without any prep drawings to work from is what thrills me the most... I can not control my passion enough to render a tight drawing and then transfer that to the canvas and move from there... There are time I do exactly that but during that process as I am getting ready to approach the canvas I am on edge... eager to move into the paint, applying, removing and pushing it around the rectangle in order to create order... from nothing.

In The "Bled"...

Here is the finished painting of the woman working the wool into yarn... It was a good exercise but I ran into some problems with keeping colors in the face area from getting "muddy". The lack of small brushes has made me improvise in the tight areas... but at last I will be receiving some small brushes from home and this should allow me to work those areas with a wee bit more control. I have have four more canvas for oil left to complete... which means I will fall back to watercolor. The beauty of oils for me is that I can attack the rectangle with passion and total freedom... using whatever method to apply the color that strikes me at the moment. Watercolor for me is a more controlled medium... I am lacking the discipline right now... so I need to find it again.

ET... Go Home.

ET (Early Termination)... This week I headed into Rabat to drop off a few books, but my main reason on going there was to say goodbye to my friend Adrienne, who decided to call it a career in the Peace Corps and head back to the States. Adrienne and I came into the Peace Corps together, sat next to each other for most of our CBT and traveled to Dublin back in March for St. Patrick's Day. She is one of my closest friends here and I will miss her.
Morocco can be a hard life for female volunteers, this is a muslim culture and the status of women is so different than what we have back home, but more important there is the constant harassment of women here by the men. I do not understand why this country tolerates this shameful behavior but somehow it does and in fact it is the norm. It doesnt seem to make a difference if the woman is a Moroccan or foreigner, they will get verbally and phsyically harassed... but for foreigners it seems to be never ending.
As a foreigner and a man, I do not know how my female friends put up with such bullshit day in and day out. I would have left within the first 90 days... and the Peace Corps from my point of view does very little to address these issues besides having "gatherings" on harassment... there is very little support coming from Peace Corps staff... shameful as that may sound.
So I lose another friend over here... but I have made a friend for life... God Speed and I know you are happy for the first time in months.

See you when I return.

Alone at work...

This is a work in progress... I started this painting the other day and it is coming together quickly. The subject is making "yarn" from wool... It is a tedious process and for the most part still done by hand in all areas of Morocco. She will sit there working the wool into strings of yarn in the blazing sun dress in heavy clothing. The wool will be used to create the "berber" rugs that this area is famous for.
This was one of the few painting that I actually did a "comp" drawing for mainly because there is a lot going on with her and I wanted to get it right before I put color to canvas. Because I am working in a small(ish) format and I am lacking small brushes, I create these "points" to apply the color into small area such as the faces... my latest material for this tool is the cardboard from Reese's Cups that my Mom sent me... I received Bzzzf candy last week. So I eat a Reeses Cup, and take the small square and fold it until it is ridgid and dab the paint to the canvas... the upside is i am eating lots of candy... the down side is that I am eating lots of candy!!
When I have completed this piece I will post the finished artwork.
Salam-

Purple haze...

This woman walks by the cafe outside my place everyday, she is usually dress from head to toe in either black or blue and she was blessed with cheek bones that a younger woman would kill to have. Heavyset and always walking with a purpose greeting a few friends, she goes by empty handed and returns less than an hour later with the days food in each hand. There is nothing unusally about this woman... her look and demeanor I see a 1000 times each day, she just happens pass by me a few times a week.

The painting is a study in oils and 9x11 inches, composed in purple and deep blues with her complexsion renderes in earth tones umbers, ochre and varying cadiums which I hope makes her face pop off the canvas.

Chefchaouan

Is the "Blue City" about 4 hours and a 7oDhs bus ride from Fes. The trip there is rather unspectacular but the city itself is unique and very chill. As you come into the city that sits on the side of a mountain and sprawls down into the valley it looks like any other Moroccan town and at first I was unimpressed and wondering why I had just taken a 4 hour bus ride to see it. But as you enter the medina and get your first of many offers to but kif "... good stuff man, the best man... you want" the boy asks... you begin to see the reason it is on the tourtist destination.

Finding the riad and dropping my bag off, I head out to explore, and as the sun hits the building splashed in varying shades of blue and begin to she the beauty of the city... the intense white trimmed in brillant blues grabs you at every level. As I walked around I noticed the number of tourist here more than any place I have visited outside of Kesh... the sweet aroma of the harsh is everywhere.

About a 45 minute grand taxi ride takes you out to hike to God's Bridge a nature arch 100's of feet above the river that cuts through the mountains down to the valley. The hike is a well cut trail and the sights are lovely. On the way back the river pools in spots to create swimming holes... I climb down and dangle my legs in the cool water. The taxi is waiting (cost a little more to have him wait a few hours) and back to the riad I go. I spend another day taking pictures and roaming the city and then onto the Bus back to Fes and a "knuckle" back to Sefrou... exhausted but so glad I saw this city.

The Waiting...

Working on this new oil painting of two women waiting for the local bus outside of the mosque... it is still in progress but I am getting close to laying down the brush and digging out a new canvas to begin another.

The bus as always was nowhere to be found and as time moved on these two were soon surround by more and more people as the heat of the September day drove everyone to seek the shade of the palm tree. It was souk day in Sefrou and as you can see these two have souk-bag stuffed with the days shopping. I left before these women had moved so maybe they are still waiting for the bus that never comes.

Walk This Way...

Haven't posted a pianting in a long time, this is my latest effort to capture the woman of Morocco. Saw this older woman heading my way and reached for my camera and as she emerged from the shadows I snapped. The medium is oil on an 11x14 canvas board. I love the shadows and her determined walk as she moved across the traffic ... burdened with a heavy pack and an even heavier bundle each step seemed to wear her down. The weather is Sefrou on this day was cooler than the previous day but still in the mid-90's.
Peace Corps is easy... a woman's lot in Morocco is hard.

Dar dyali u bab

Hi- For those who have wondered (or not) what the outside of my place looks like (posted interior shots back in Feb) here is a view my home from across the street. I live about the hnut and snack shop the two big windows you see are mine, the left is into my salon and the right is my bedroom. I have access to the roof (shared) still it is private and some nights I find myself sitting

there gazing at the stars and the moon dreaming of my loved ones back in Boston who are seeing the same sky and I feel a swiya connection. The white vehicle park outside is the often mentioned "Grand" taxi... most are white,vintage late 70's early 80's, 4-speed and held to together with whatever is needed... this one looks in pretty good shape.

Next is my door (bab)... or the hobbit hole as I call it, duck your head as you step down into my hallway to the flight of stairs to my place. This is sort of typical for doors in

this area... maybe a bit more "rustic" then some. Lets see I

think I have only wacked my head on it the first week. Finally there is my front door into my humble home... it is made of iron and again is a typical entery into a home. I like my home every much, there are times when the noise is too much, mainly the loud music that was played during the political "debates' that was propaganda and bone-rattling loud... but now that is less and less, there is still the five calls to prayer and my mosque is in the top 10 for loudest is Morocco, but for the most part it has faded into the background, except when I am skyping and then it is the brunt of a few "WTF" and such. I have a good landlord and the people areound me know I am living here versus my first few weeks when I would get the look of "your still here?... are you crazy, you left America and all we want is to go to America... idiot!" haha. The hnut guys now helps me to pronounce my "r" and the Driss the young man who runs the snack shop is great... only I think everyday he adds another few god pharse to our gretting just to see my reaction as I try in vain to keep up and end up smiling and say "tbark allah".

I have finished my first year in the Peace Corps, had a little celebration with a few PCVs... there have been many more good days/times than bad and inshallah I will complete my service here in November 2012... but if for whatever reason that does not come to pass and I "DOA, DOR, ET or get AdSep"... 3ad humdulilah.

Salam-

Birthday in a Foreign Land...

This week I turned 54 and celebrate one year in Morocco...
Birthday's in Morocco are not even a blip on the radar, for the most part no one here knows how old they are and do not celebrate birthdays, so I kept my to myself here in my town and just treated as another day. Having said that a trip to the post office was fruitful, sitting in my box were slips for two "care" packages from home... one from Mom and the other from Susan (and Linda)... so as i eagerly scribbled my name on the form and the packages were handed to me, I walked briskly back to my home and with knife in hand opened my gifts... a pile of yummy treats and hand towels spilled onto my ponj. Thanks so much, until you live in a world so removed from home you will never understand what a letter or package from home means... it can take a lousy week and make it seem as if all is right in your world... THANKS!!!

Ramadan and traveling is behind me and summer is coming to a close... even if it is still above 90 everyday... and work is picking up again. Today I worked on a logo for a young woman who runs a rug co-op in Midelt... we have kicked a few ideas around and I think I have a few that she can choose from. This woman is a bright with a good head for business, so I want this logo to be something that she is proud of... so even if we gave to go through many changes I want the end result to be perfect. After this I will tackle the redesign of another co-op's web peresence... but the big job is the catalog for a basket maker down south, over the summer we created a logo and now we will create a paper catalog that can be the backbone of a website. These projects should keep me busy for the next 2 months...inshallah.
Salam-

Lord of the Flies

Summer is still dragging in the Fes/Sefrou area and I can't remember the last time it rained here. The net result of heat and lack of rain bring about... FLIES Bzzzf! Over the course of thelast week the flies are as thick as I remember them when I arrived last September, these are not the fast moving flies that land on food that we have back home. They are smallish, slow and like to land on people... they will bite, but maimly they just f%$# landing on me. Whereever there is exposed skin these bugger go and if you shoo them away... all that happens is the fly to a new spot. IT IS PISSING ME OFF! Most of my Moroccan friends are not bothered and in fact never try to kill them. At first I would kill them but now it is just too much work... just try to keep them out of my face and the rest of me i just shoo when too many are on me because it is a no win battle. I pray for rain and that the heat of summer drops into the cool air of fall soon... inshallah.
Transportation is Hard: In general moving around Morocco is a slow and unpleasant ordeal, but over the last few weeks it has become a nightmare, nothing is running and when it does run it is packed and takes forever and the mad dash to get in any vehicle is both entertain and hard work. Last week the buses were not running so one day I took a grand taxi from Khenifra to Azrou then Azrou to Midelt (roughly 300km)... both legs were close to two hours each. The first leg started out with the driver and a passenger engaged in a yelling match about money, the fact the driver got out of the taxi leaving it running in the middle of the street to go shopping. This went on for 15 minutes with the driver looking back at the passenger while driving at speeds that put your heart in your mouth. We drove the mountain road between Khenifra and Midelt passing trucks and busees on blind curves, flying through small dewars honking the honk and driving on the wrong side of the road. At times I thought the door i was pushed up against might fly open and throw me down the edge of the cliff. Of course I must say grand taxis are my favor mode of travel because your life is in your hands everytime.
Leaving Midelt a few days later again no buses so I took a taxi back to Azrou, then Azrou to Imouzzer and finally Imouzzer to Sefrou. Theride from Midelt to Azrou I got stuck in the middle of the back seat between... lets just say the air was rather pungent and for some reason one of the men in the front see complain tha he was "chilly" and asked the window to be shut... LA 3arfk, sHuna bzzf (no please, it is very hot) I said and the driver compromised and rolled it up half way. We arrived in Azrou to the same mess as Midelt no buses and few taxis... i watched in amazement as people fought for seats in taxis... I waited talked to to kurti (dispacher) and got him to get me on one without having to push anyone out of the way a la George in Steinfeld. So I got home exhausted and never wanted to travel again.
Been home for a week hot as hell, bored silly and looking to get back to work.
Next up Fes...

Back in the Saddle

I arrived back in Sefrou almost two weeks ago into a country two weeks into the month of Ramadan during the hotest time of the year. I could see a change in the people when and if you saw more than a handful during the daylight hours. They looked tired and in general a litle pissed, but as the time to break fast approach I saw more and more people on the streets, vendors were out selling food, cafes are filled with people just sitting and staring, not drinking and very little conversation. This was the time i would head back out to get my staples and observe... there was tension in the air and almost as if on schedule everyday, the square I reside turned into a mass of honking horns, people yelling and my two favorite hand gestures here. First, bring your hand up to the side of your head and turn your wrist as if you are screwing in a light bulb... two or three quick turns of the wrist, this is the sign for "ARE YOU F'en CRAZY!". The next is the the arm gesture and flip of the wrist over to palm up... so arm at a lose 90 degree angle in front of you and the flip of the wrist along with a slight movement of the arm to the side. This means many things but lately in my area it means "Iam walking here... think of Dustin Hoffman in Midnight Cowboy... with out the pounding of the car but the same voice level. Why there are not more fist fight amazes me... back in the States fists would be flying. One thing I will say is that when an altercation is happening by standers will intercede into the argument and most times they stop the argument from turn ugly with god phrases and wrapping their arms around one of the potential combatants. Once again to compare this to my world in the States if there is an agument between two people and a third jumps into the mix even as a peacemaker... it becomes like the old thirdman in a hockey fight... that person is now fair game.

Fasting: Well outside of one day that I cheated and had water during the day (it was close to 100 degrees) I fasted from 4AM until 6:30-7ish each day I was here during Ramadan... why you may ask, I have no good answer besides one I love a challenge and two it was the respectful thing to try to do. I found that everyone I met asked me if I was fasting, if I was muslim and when I answered yes and no they would smile and say t-bark allah. I never had anyone check my mouth to see if it was parch and white from the lack of water. I am not sure how many people in my town are "strict, by the book" muslims, but during ramadan everyone appears to fast and take the religion to a higher level.
Heat and drawing: Well the downside is that since my sleep schedule is ass backwards (I sleep from 4:30AM until 10-11AM) and the heat of midday and glaring light has mad it difficult to get up or out to paint or draw. I have instead played with my website (www.jameswilliamflynn.com) and updated the look and function, yet I miss the drawing and never feel quite right unless I have done a drawing or 10 a day. Lets hope I get back to it this week...inshallah.
PeaceCorps: Well Ramadan sucks the life out of any PC work I had been working on and between the lack of real work, not drawing much at all and a flipped sleeping schedule I have been like a caged lion pacing my home and town... I never do well with too much down time and look forward to the fall months, with many projects to move to the front burner and the end of the heat. Looking forward to see what Sefrou is like in the fall
Salam-

Heat and Fasting...

Day two of fasting... with the temperature hoving around 108 degrees here in Sefrou, Ramadan was in full swing when I returned and now 48 hours later I am getting an understanding on the ebbs and flows of daily life during the holy holiday which lasts one months. During Ramadan muslims fast from sun up until sunset... fasting means no food, fluids, vices, sex... so our days are flipped as I mentioned in a previous posting I am staying up until 4AM and "trying" to sleep or rest from 4AM-1PM. During the day I may venture out for a short walk or errand but mainly i sweat in the heat of my home. I am fasting during the day, but today I broke down and had water... as long as I drink only in my home, I am not crazy and in this heat I will need to consume water during the day... I am not muslim.

Very little goes on during these day, I am not sure if it is because of the holiday, the heat of August or the combination. At the signal that the sun has set and the end of the days fasting, the few business that are open shut and the streets are empty for the next hour, then life brings again around 9 and stays busy until 2 or 3AM. Last night I walked the town and got my haircut at midnight and stopped and had the wonderful fruit drink until 1:30AM... it was the best time of the day, temps still in the high 80's but nice.

Sleeping in this heat during sunlight is a challenge... but I am getting some sleep so lets see what it is like in a week. Salam-

Five Years... and Ramadan

Well I am back in Morocco after 20 wonderful and fun days back in Massachusetts... cant believe how much I missed the New England area, I feel blessed to have been born and raised in that part of America. Actually I would like to thank my forebearers for having the "balls" to come to America and because of their actions I have reaped the benefits of living in the United States and the honor to say I am an American... I never took her for granted but living outside of her shores I find I have a renewed love and faith in my country. Granted I have been out of the loop of all the political BS that still runs deep through our system, but I have faith that no matter what the spirit of what was conceived almost three centuries ago will win the day in the end.

Ramadan... arrived back in Sefrou on Thursday night at dusk to completely empty streets, it was so quiet that I was a little unnerved as I made the trek to my front door... i could see a few men step out into the hot and heacy air to take the first drag off the gato (cigarette). As I open my door to a blast of steal hot air I opened the windows and waited for life to fill the streets... around 9 people started to come out and shops reopened and the night was day. SO I gathered my lflus and headed out to get my food. I have decided like most PCVs to try to fast during ramadan, now I missed the first two weeks but for the remaining two weeks I will sleep from 4AM until 1PM get up and wait for the sun to set so I can eat and drink only time will tell if i can do this for more than a few days.

FIVE Years: Today marks the fifth anniversary of Carolyn's death from cancer or as my son Stephen and I like to say from the drug avastin that was giving to her that took her before we could even say good bye. Not a day goes by that I do not think of her, yet I know that she had a wonderful life, we raised two great children into fine young men and that our love was true and pure... and for some strange reason she was only given 47 years on this earth. Like most we dreamed of old age together, that was not to be... but we were given 30 years of happiness together... wanted another 30 but feel blessed to have what we had. Miss you!!!!

Back Up To Boston...

Back home in Boston... and spending the week on Cape Cod. Came into Logan last Thursday, arriving 2 hours late from Paris, but happy to be home. Seeing my loved ones for the first time... words can not describe how I felt and the warmth that flowed through my veins, it was less of a shock to come from Sefrou to Boston since I had visited Europe recently and experienced the bussle for the western world... still at times I look around is disbelief at what a different world I have lived in over the last 11 months. Even when Morocco attempts to bring the western world in... there is something amiss as it does not fit or they have not figured how it blend the old and the new.

The Cape has been great, the weather all week here has been beautiful, my family has visited the cottage off and on and in general I have missed the ocean and I am reminded that I have to be close to the salt water to truely feel at peace. The seafood has been fantastic and in general I am eating too much... when I arrived in Morocco I was placed on the scale and weighed in at a whooping 196lbs ( I think that was wrong but it was what the scale read) and when I arrived back in the states almost 11 months later I hit the scale at 162lbs... I have a sneaking feeling that when I return in a week or so I will be back over 170... hard to stop eating.

Ramadan is in full swing back in Morocco and I am sitting on the beach enjoying all that America can give... I feel a swiya guilty about missing out on the beginning of this period, but will be back for the last two weeks and may find coming back into the middle of the holiday can be very difficult... only one way to find out.

There She Goes Just A Walking Down the Street..

This is a small oil painting I did the other day... size is 9x12 inches and I did it using cardboard to apply the paint to the canvas. Since I dont have any pastel stumps here I made own using toilet paper rolls - yes I now use toilet paper - and the priority mail packages that people send me... nothing get thrown away in the Peace Corps. What I did was fold the cardboard until a got the point I was looking for and used that as my instrument along with my fingers in spots. I was looking for texture in this piece and I think I got that... plus with the canvas being so small and most of my oil brushes are large I was not about to "trim" any brushes. I haven't signed it yet so I may still go back into it once it sets up a little more.
I found the composition (image) either on a PCV site or just a random search on the internet... so I take no credit for the compositon (well swiya..I did change it some) but the rendering is all mine.
I have one more canvas left... and heading to Rabat soon to purchase more... it is expensive on my PC salary, but somethings I need others I dont... like meat.... who needs meat, i can survive on fruit, veggies, pasts and soups... hmmm maybe that is why I have dropped close to 30lbs... "humdu-li-lah" as they say in Sefrou.
salam-

Roasted Corn on the Cob and Other Sights

Roasting corn on the cob has become the latest sidewalk food here... the corn is cooked over an open fire on a stick and if you get one that is not burnt, then it reminds me of home swiya... only I would like some fresh butter... the salt they have.
In this sketch is the ever present souq bag... for 6-10Dhs yo can pick one of these up and do your shopping... I need to get another one.

These drawings are just ramdon woman and the a quick sketch of the push cart man... in every town in Morocco they are bzzf amount of push carts... men or boys who for a few Dhs will move anything from point A to B...

The Other Women...

I have been trying to capture the women of Sefrou in my sketches over the last month or so and mainly I have been focusing on the traditional dress versus the many western attire I see here in the Fes/Sefrou region. I do not wish to miss lead anyone into thinking all the women dress in the caftan... I just happen to find these women much more interesting to sketch. Also I live in a very conservative section of Sefrou (religious) and I would not wish to cause a stir by sketching the women in public... I try my best to be discrete when I draw people as it is part of the religion not to make representation of the human form... most people when they see my work never say anything beyond praise... but as i said I live in an area that is pretty conservative (from what i have been told) and it would be my luck to run into the one man who finds my work offensive.

As I mentioned most women here are still covered from head to toe... yet many wear the caftan so tight that every curve of the body is defined, or they wear 4" spiked high-heels that my women friends back in the States refer to as "CFM" shoes.... I will not explain, if you dont know then find out what it means. It is the juxipostion of being covered up yet still dressing to show they woman and he beauty that is in all woman... Then there is the in between... half-western, half-traditional... head scarf and tight jeans or sleeveless blouses or head un-covered and the full dress. One thing I have not captured yet is the mind-numbing colors, color combinations and wild designs that make the head spin... That will be my next subject...

The Weavers Live Down the Street...

Continuing the theme to capture the woman of Morocco...

Switched back to oil paint for this painting... I started this yesterday and I am about 4 hours into it... it came together rather quick and I think I will just suggest the wool on the left a little define the hand more and than put it to bed. I was inspired to this piece from all the women that SDB work with here with the Peace Corps. They spend hours a day... day-after-day working on these wooden loams creating these zrbiya in the hope that they will make a swiya l'flus for the family.

I have one more canvas left and would like to complete it or at least start it over the next week... then Ramadan is on the horizon and life will change here even more... night becomes day... day becomes night. Then I will need to get to Rabat to buy more supplies.

Hope you like my attempts...
salam-

The Waiting...

Waiting for call to prayer... this was the fourth call of the day which in my town takes place around 7ish these days. I saw this man in traditional dress sitting outside the bab of the mosque and his look was of a religious man and it propelled me to try to capture it. My thought was this could be the 11th century or 21st... as this man waits to pays his respects to his prophet and god he is in deep thought... I focused on his gesture... dispelling detail... minutes late the muezzin call comes..." Allah Akbar..." is repeated and the man slowly raises up, his walk to the door is deliberate... bends down to remove his sandles and disappears into the holy building... and I am left with the call trailing off and the low murmuring of praying from within. Iam not a follower, I have my own already... I am an observer... I take snippets and play with them.

Just Another Day...

Here are a few more scene from outside in my square, the first is of a teenager and his mom as they wait in the morning for a petite taxi to take them "uptown"... she was going at him verbally for a few minutes and every now and again he would look up with both the look of "are you done... and yes mmi". Finally the taxi arrived and "uptown" they went.

Next is the green grocery lady and she is having a slow day and the shade will be leaving her soon and the temperature on this day was in the high 90's and she is bundled as if snow will be arriving any minute. Unforunately her day never got better, a terrible wind storm swept into town later that day and everything was blown away... but in hindersight her bundled dress help beat back the dust and dirt that whipped through Sefrou that day.Later that day she was back in her spot her crates intact and new product... yet still no business.... Peace Corps is easy... Life in Morocco can be very hard.

Salam-

A Got Fever For...

Well actually I just have a fever and up until today it was raging and I was swiya concerned with my health over the last 24 hours. I somehow went over 11 months in Morocco with very little health issues compared to many of my fellow PCVs, it took going to Spain during San Fermin for me to get very sick. Somehow I came in contact and got a virual infection that put me down for the count over the last 72 hours. To recapture, last week during the opening ceremonies in which thousands of people are drenching in in sangria and who knows what, I came home from that party after some drink, food and too much sun and got violently ill, after that passed and I was never 100% and a day later had a sore throat and what seemed like a low-grade fever.... but I was there to run with the bulls and a little sickness would not stop me.

Well to jump ahead upon return to Morocco my fever climbed and I could barely get out of my own way... so I did what a Flynn almost never does.... I called the PCMO (doctor) and explained what was going on and the doc (let me say here that the PCMO is about the only thing in PC that functions on all cylinders) they told me to get some Amoxil and to take it and keep them posted on my condition. Which may not sound like much, but believe me when you are here it is a lot.

The last 72 hours after running a high fever, my head pounding and face hurting, having trouble breathing and in general wondering which section of my body the infection would attack next... this has been as sick as I can ever remember in my adult life but other times I was in the comfort of my home in the States and had the availablity of a hot shower, clean sheets a doctor who could see me the same day and someone to make sure I had food to eat... in Morocco things can go from bad to worse in a very short span... so I am happy to say that today I am feeling better, stripped my bedding and hand washed them and hung them out, will take a bucket bath and I hope to go shopping as food in my home is running out. Yet I know I am not well yet and must control my urge to get back to a normal day... so rest is still my major activity for the next few days.

Thanks to everyone for the well wishes

Madrid and Pamplona

"Your not a moron. Your only a case of arrested development"... to quote Papa Hemingway from "The Sun Also Rises".



At times I felt like a moron as I waited to run with the bulls during San Fermin Festival in Pamplona, Spain. Standing in a vomit, urine and stale sangria amongst thousands of would be runners that stench keep me from breathing through my nose. The sight of drunks puking just feet away made me wondered WTF is going on here. Yet I could not leave nor did I want to... the idea of running with the bulls has been with me since I read that novel oh so many years ago. What I never imagined was the craziness of the party that this town turned into for a week plus. the party NEVER stops... as we headed into the streets to run with the bulls there was a constant flow of people still going from the night before, drunken "children" trying to find there way to a place to sleep... under a tree, park bench... anywhere.


The first day in Pamplona we located our apartment and headed out to get the lay of the land... the next day was the "kick-off" to the San Fermin Celebration... there is no way to discribe this madness, one would have to be there and even then it was surreal.


July 7th: The first day of the run we got there early found a place to meet the bulls or so we thought, about 45 minutes before the run the police began to push over two thousand people about the length of a football field in less than 20 minutes... I MEAN PUSH... about a dozen cops just moved us and after a minute or so I knew we were not going to run today as we strayed to far from the cut off point. It was a learning experience.


July 8th: This time aware of the cut off line Bill and I got there early and stayed put.... as the time ticked down to the finally minutes we got seperated (more on this later) and then the sound of the first rocket... get ready.... then the sound of the second rocket.... the bulls are loose. I wait and make sure my shoes are dry and at the first sight of the bulls cresting the road I take off ... people are falling everywhere and I am trying my best not to be taken down by a runner... as the bulls are 20 feet away I am looking to get to high ground... spotting an opening on the fence I jump up as the bulls pass... a police man beckons me to climb out and i shake my head and jump down to chase the bulls into the ring... but as the second wave of bulls passes I know I will not get there in time... moments later I hear the final rocket and I am yards from the gate and will not get in.... masi muskil I have run with the bulls.... or more like I have ran from the bulls and then ran after the bulls. It was a great feeling and I was smiling ear-to-ear afterwards and wanted more.

This photo is of me and my friend Bill... Bill got kicked out minutes before the bulls were set loose for taking a photo (no camera allowed) so he is bummed and I am beaming. It was a high that lasted for hours.


July 9th: Bill, Justin and myself leave early to run with the bulls, Bill is down to his last day and has to run today or we may not leave HAHAHA, Justin can't leave Pamplona without doing it now and me... I am swiya sick but need to be there for my friends and what the heck I can do it again...

So finally tally... Ran with the Bulls twice and came out with many stories. Pamplona during San Fermin is a world class party and it you are young and ready to go at it 24 hours a day for a week this is your town... me I can't nor do I want to any longer, But I had a great time!!!


Back in Morocco now... fighting a sinus infection and fever and missing Europe!

Something In The Way She Moves..

I saw this little woman with her hand on her hip walking by the cafe next to my home... I scratched her in first as quick as I could as she was not going to stop for me... so like a snapshot in my brain I jotted down her general shape and attitude... from there I place the men in the cafe in the background to complete the picture.

There are a few cafe here that women enter but never outside on the sidewalk... In Morocco the women are harder to draw as they are always in motion on the streets, where as most men sit for hours in the cafe... so this is a very common scene in Morocco... it would be even more so if she was loaded down with bags and a child.

Everyday People...

More sketches of the people of Sefrou... I live in the BenSaffar section of Sefrou, it is more or less the center of the city and either from my home, the cafes on the street I sketch the people as they move about their daily lives. As the heat of the summer climbs the people are slowing down and I am doing my best to capture snippet of time, the first is the l'bid rajl (egg man)... he comes out every night and sells his eggs until almost midnight... the other is a woman waiting for a petite taxi in the early morning... the days heat is already in the low 90's at 8:00AM and dressed in typical dress I wonder how she is able to stand the heat covered in heavy clothes from head to toe... yet it appears she is fine.
Maybe being born into this climate the body has adjusted over time to the oppressive heat and humidity... I for one coming from New England melt away each minute of the day, wearing shorts, sandles and light shirts I still feel as if I live in an oven and slowly I am cooking.

What I would not give to be near the ocean or have a sniff of a breeze come in from the mountains, I am told Sefrou is not that hot and should be happy i am not further south where the temps average in the low 100's... it is the humidity that is pulling the energy out of everyone.

Living For The City...

This is the woman who sells mint and whatever fruit is in... she starts off every morning across the street in the shade of the old trees, sprinkling water over her goods as the day heats up. She moves with the shadows and as the sun creeps to it zenith she will pack and disappear until the sun in about an hour above the horizon line... at which time she will stake out a good spot on the sidewalk and hope the evening treats her better than the morning. I have come to admire this woman as she scraps a living out of this life. As the sunsets the daily pro-king propoganda circus that has become a staple here as of the last week descends upon her space and she gathers her boxes and moves back as the crowds interfer with her business. As the crowds chants and hoots become nothing more than an echo she moves back to her spot and tends to her produce and beckons the locals on their travels to and fro.

Life is hard here in Morocco and the individual eeks out a living competing with 100's in the same town who are selling the exact same stuff. I wonder at time how they do it and if in the same situation could I handle it? May guess is yes as we only know what we know.... if that was all I knew then I would.

I sit in my window and follow her daily activity with my pen in hand and when I am in need of mint or saphron I will stop by and get my supplies... thank you.

Your Time is Gonna Come..

Here is a compilation of a few quick sketches of the people of Sefrou... mainly guesture drawings that take 30 seconds to a few minutes to complete. Moved into another medium because of the heat, pen and ink on rough paper... I can go back and add color if I think any of the sketches deem the extra work. Mainly these are just exercises to keep my hand, mind and eye sharp... I like the crispness of the ink versus the pencil these days, but i am sure in a few weeks I may be back using pencil and say something along the lines of I like the spontaniety of the pencil or some thing that sounds deep but in reality I just felt like drawing with a pencil versus the ink or a brush. Mostly that is what leads me to a medium.... I just felt like it at that moment and will remember why I like a certain medium, the pros/cons each tool brings to the table... Yeah sometime I am full of BS.

Back to the drawing tablet... salama

Too Hot to Paint...

WTF how can that be, yesterday I was sitting out sketching and the paper was sticking to my forearm and the beads of sweat were rolling down my arm onto the paper and even though I have tried many different techniques when painting this is not one I wish to develope any further. The sun blazes down and I am reminded once again that I am in Africa and this is just the beginning. I believe the cold I experienced back in October thur February deceived me that the heat of Africa was further south and that I would encounter nothing like I have felt over the last month.


Of course if my brother who lives in the heat of the Carolina's was sitting here he would snicker and say welcome to the South brother... then again he can escape the heat into the air conditioned world that made the south liviable. Here all I have is the shade and upto two cold buckets baths a day... well cold is not the correct word as the water out of the tap is now warm and and i let it sit in the bucket for awhile to cool down. As soon as I enter my home I strip to my shorts and consume litres of water and yet i am still getting exhausted from the unescapable heat.


I worry that my computer will not make it through the summer as it is running hot and the dust of this country is killing it. We have not had rain here in the Sefrou area for over two weeks and even then only passing storms. The flies are thick and they are pests and everywhere... thank goodness I installed window screen a few months ago... otherwise my home would be like all the other homes here full of friggin FLIES.


Well as I read this entery I see I am whinning just a swiya bzzf... so let me change the subject and bring you up to date on what I have been working on here since January.

Marche Maroc Fes (craftfair): Worked with a small team to create the maketing collaterial, new logo, design and branding. This project kept many of us busy for a few months and I decided it was too much like work back in the states, so...
Marche Maroc Essa: I stepped back from this one and only was involved in creating a map and inventory form, yet made myself available to answer any marketing questions.
Business Cards: designed business card for 4 different co-ops
Flyers/Brochures: designed 3 small brochures and have two more in the works
Logos: designed 4 new logos, revamped 3 more and have about 6 more logo project in the que
Product Catalog: preliminary work on a co-op down in southern morocco which can then be used tocreate a new website
Medical Form: created a medical form based on an idea from a local PCV that used illustration to inform people when to take their meds when the patient can not read.
Product Labels: designed new product labels for an argan oil co-op.
Websites: Looking over the Sefrou website and hope to make recommendations... but that may never come to pass. Have taken the stance that websites for some of co-ops are a little to advanced at this point in their development... but if asked I will give feedback and help in anyway I can.
Misc: Helped the local artisan apply for and receive a US visa for one of her workers (child) to go to America and attend the Santa Fe Craft Fair. Gave a presentation on local marketing and basic design theory at IST. Trying to layout and redesign the Art Resource Manual created by two RPCV... I just can't seem to find the time to devote to this. In general I try to be a pain in the arse to the Peace Corps by refusing to do their foolish paper trail.

With the end of Small Business Develpoment Program in Morocco I have taken the approach that I will offer my skills to as many co-ops around Morocco as I can, instead of just working with just one here in Sefrou... I believe that if I can create professional logos, business cards, collaterial marketing materials... for many and give them the resource materials to update in the future... then I have done my job.

Finally I have created a few oil paintings that I like, many watercolors and I draw everyday and this is what keeps me sane.

I think that is about it... I am sure I have forgotten a project or two but you get the idea of what i have been doing here since January when I finally got settled into Sefrou

Random Thoughts...

As the tenth month in Maroc comes to a close and I head into one year I was think today on the long train ride back from Rabat all the things here that are different...

Things I have accepted now as the norm... but some I still dislike or will never understand.
Putting six passenger plus the driver in a taxi and driving break-neck speeds and disregarding all rules of the road... now I have been in a taxi with 7 passenger, have seen 8 and have heard stories of 10 or more... but like the Loch Ness or Bigfoot, I will need a visual confirmation other wise it is just an urban myth.

When asking for the total or price of something... the numerals will ALWAYS be in French the first time, when ask to give the numbers in arabic... you will get French again but maybe in dirhams versus ryals or franc... asked the third time and jeez I have no idea what they are saying now...it is daija/french yet back to ryals... WTF.... Stop it!!!

When walking down a street a moroccan (actually mainly the women) will NEVER make room for you to pass... they will walk three abreast as large as down linemen and run you over... beware... I usually forget myself and give are you kidding me look as they bowl me over. To me it is beyond rude!

"Bon jour"... Why the children have to stare and yell this is way beyond my mental capacity, they are not being polite, they are being little punks who need to be made to understand that there are people outside of Maroc and they are not all French. Now when and adult "Bon jours" me in a greeting I understand that he is trying to speak what he thinks is a common language between us and accept and response in kind or with salam...labas.

That I live in a fish bowl and get stared at every day I walk around... I just do not know if the cultural is unaccepting of foreigners or if in general Moroccans have a hard to understanding that other people in the world may want to visit their country... Having recently traveled to Porto and not looking as if I live there i was not stared at as if i had a third eye in the middle of my forhead.... it was nice.

TRASH... Morocco could be like California, it has it all (well maybe too many mountains) but the citzens of Morocco treat the land as if it was one huge dump... trash is everywhere and there is no end to it. This country needs a Waste Management Program... it would put thousands to work... plastic bags are EVERYWHERE... this paradise is flithy. I could get into a long discussion on what the heck the Peace Corps has been doing in the environemntal area... but that would just be a waste of breathe.

Public urination... defecation. Ok every place has this where there are a few crazies or a drunks peeing in the streets... but in Morocco it is accepted, if you have to go... then by all means go, right now right here. I have seen business men pull over their cars and get out to pee... men, women, children... all ages. I find it disgusting and wonder where it comes from, or why it is still happening.

Waiting in line... next. Not here, it is a free-for-all and once again the women are the worse, it is as if it is they right to go to the front of the line... if you learn anything here the first few months it is stand your ground and hold it firmly... elbows are out, take a wide stance and bring it on berber women... HAHA!!

Why is everything built so cheap and lousy... everything breaks nothing is built to a standard... I look at the workers (DPW) who are ill-equipped in both tools and dress, men doing ditch-digging wearing flip-flops and capri pants... again WTF, give this people the proper tools and safety... shit they work hard give them the chance to come home at night with both feet.

I could go on and I am sure I will... my last point here will be personal
Why does this damn language have sooooo many "R" in it and why in the name of Allah do they insist on using them... I never have and if I can convince them that "R" in the middle or end of a word is just not that important then maybe I will be able to speak Darija!
INSHALLAH!

Porto... What a Beautiful City.

Porto Portugual... what more can I say than it is at the top of my list of cities outside of America that I have visited and found to be so much more than one could have imagined. The two paintings I have posted here are the views from the apartment we rented... I can not say enough how relaxing this trip was for myself and the crew I went with... wonderful food and drink, a clean well organized city where the people are open and warm to strangers versus what the norm is in Maroc. I will temper my reaction to returning to Marrakech for another time... this should be about Porto and 4 great days.

The trip begins for me as I head to Fes and onto a souk bus heading to Khenifra for a night... the temperature in Fes is 32 degrees C and as the bus travels south the temp in Khenifra is 39degrees or 101F and the bus had to have been 10 degrees hotter, smelly and a few people losing their lunch into plastic bags... (where am i and what happened to my wonderful life HAHA)... finall arive in Khenifra for a wonderful meal prepared by Marcia the company of most of my CBT and to sleep before we take a 6-7 hour bus ride to Marrakech and into 114 degree heat! MARRAKECH... Oh weird and bizarre Kech... 45 degrees (114) are you kidding on June 14 it was the hottest I have ever felt, dry heat... 114 is hot! so don't give me the dry heat argument... it was F$#& HOT. Dealing with the kech taxi drivers and the aeroport.. we boarded the plane and headed to Porto (at last) arriving to perfect weather of about 68 at night and after finding our way through the subway and taxi we arrived at the apartment... a perfect spot and a great place... we dropped our bags and venture out to find find food...a small stand serving food and beer by the river beckons us... OMG, a civilized world once again. Back to our place... a game of hearts is pursued, more drinks and laughs we finally collapsed into a sleep around 3:30AM and hoping to start the morning fresh.

Coffee is needed... a small coffee place by the river is located (beer is served at all times) and with my watercolors by my side this how I started and ended the daylight hours each day... I got about 8 small watercolor sketches done... nothing in too much detail, but I am pleased with most of them.

Porto is so relaxing in all phases, the city is just a wonder to walk around and the food is bountiful and well prepared and cheap. The transportation system is modern and readily available yet the city is very walkable... it has the old Europe feel in a clean way that is missing in Rome and a few other places I have seen. Beach, citylife, public transportation... in closing Porto is one great place to visit... or live.... boa-noite

Camels by the Surf...

Yes camels on the beach... beaches in Maroc are both same and different than back in the states... the difference ranges from some women covered head to toe in garments, the constant barking of men selling everything from tatoos, smokes, ice cream, coffee and donuts..., but the thing that makes it all so African is the camels on the beach. I have not been on a camel yet and look forward to a camel trek later this year into the dunes. This family of camels strut up and down the beach looking for business... and every once and awhile someone is riding one.

MeHdia Version 3.0

IST (In Service Training) has come and gone and with the bombing in Marrakech back in late April, Peace Corps staff decided to move IST out of that city to the ocean town of MeHdia a little north of Rabat. My first impressions of Maroc were in this ocean town back in September 2010 as this was the place were PC had us for the first days of training... and I must say it was a dreadful experience... sleeping 4 or more to a room better reserved for one or two with 10 hour days of force-feed culture and language. My next time here was before swearing in and it was even worse... BUT as the say the third time is a charm... the older PCVs got single rooms, it was in season and the weather and beach was great.

Lots of laughs, some work and three square meals a day... it was the last time I will see everyone in a group until COS (Close of Service) and that is 18 months away and who knows how many of us will still be here... it is a fun crew of over 60 people and I will miss many if not all... but the PC has a way of creating a bond as we are a small tight group that laughs and cries with each other.

These gathering in the PC are a mixture of corporate and high school... for the 29 of us in the SND program it was a bitter sweet gathering as we are the last in this program as the PC has decided to abandon our program in order to focus only on the youth and basically teaching English... I for one believe this change in direction is foolish and short-sighted... I say that only because I think this direction does not take into the account the 70 million "baby-boomers" who might want to bring their skills in the business world to a country like Maroc... some may want to teach english but I think many would rather work with established artisans and small business to spread out our knowledge... inshallah only time will tell.
The two sketches are from Mehdia ... I hope you like them. Heading to Porto for a few days and hope to do nothing but paint, eat wonderful food and drink port.

Salam-

Where There Is NO Doctor...

First let me start by saying I am fine, well as healthy as I can be at this stage of my Peace Corps service... the title of this entery come from a handbook that all PCVs have in their bookcase, it is one MFing scary read. Here is why I opened mine... It is hot here in Sefrou and the humdity is coming with it, over the past dozen years whenever the "dog days of August" hit Boston I would get a small case of heat rash... as of today it is June 2nd and yesterday I got my first sign of it and I am thinking long hot summer....S$%#!!!
So sitting in my salon trying not to itch or sweat (impossible) I see the title of this book and think....hmmmm maybe there something in there, what a mistake. Opening the book the first thing I see is on circumsion!!! so curious I look and see the diagram that talks about pulling the forskin upward and before cutting it reads (Be Sure NOT to cut the head of the penis off) WTF... no kidding... so after the phanthom pain subsides in my lower regions I am foolish enough to turn a few more pages looking for rash remedies... OMG I some of the "home" remedies are unbelievable such as tying a scorpion to your finger for a scorpion sting...hmmm doesn't sound like a good idea or putting feces around your eye to cure blurred vision... yeah not a way to make new friends... "Hi Jim is that cow feces on your face...". After a few minutes of the scariest diagrams and text outside of a Stephen King novel, I closed the book and put it back where it will stay for the next year collecting dust.... thanks peace corps.

As I mentioned the Heat is On and will stay in once the afternoon rolls.

Sketching My Life Away or Life in the Slow Lane.

Since I arrived in Morocco I have been filling a sketch book with images of daily life and people. I am also never without it and as I sit waiting of a taxi, having coffee or whenever I am out and about I jotted down Isee infront of me.. mostly it is people and for the main part men... the reason I give for that is that the women never stop here... always in motion... the men on the other hand are stationary... they sit for hours... they greet each other in a five minute waltz of greetings, kissing, handshakes and in general touching. So if you were to flip through the pages of one of these books you would see very little women... BUT now has become one of my missions to document as many females I can and try not to cross that line in this or any society of being a creep...haha. I have complied a few of my sketches from different pages that show some of the women I have sketched. Sefrou is a rather "liberal" town in the dress of the women or I should the young women...but I have set my sights on the more traditional garb...

Mura-Mura I will post more images of the Moroccan people I encounter during my time here...inshallah.

Welcome to Cafe Argentina...

Cafe Argentina stares back at me everyday from my salon window, it seems so out of place here... not the establishment but the name. It is a busy cafe with a seedy pool hall attached that i have not ventured into... one of the host sons hung out there and in general I don't think it is a place for a 53 year American with limited arabic but slightly above average pool skills... no good can come from me entering into this place... even though I have the urge to go in. Maybe i will run into Yussef and he can try to play me.

Pool halls are big business in Sefrou, I know of at least a half dozen and can bet there are many more... it seems so out of place in this society. I can say that a pool hall is the same everywhere, except here the tables are so close that back in the states it would be a reason for blood to be shed as players bumped and interferred with the hustle.

This afternoon there was a good size demostration march by my window and up toward the center of town... it was peaceful and well organizedas there were posters and signs and bullhorns. A few Chez Guevara t-shirts and a flag... almost 50 years later his image still represents change in governments...

it is Sunday night and hot in Sefrou... wish I had a drink but will settle of water.