I am officially a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) #selfie

Site site site site site site site doo da doo da.

But really, this is incredible. 

On March 29th the Peace Corps told me my final site placement. After finding out I posted this:

"'Stuff your eyes with wonder, live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories…'

It's not official yet. I still haven't sworn in, or officially received a passing score on my final oral exam (and I'm not going to jinx it here) BUT I have been given my final site.

According to Peace Corps rules I can't publicly tell you where it is but if you want a message with the name just let me know. What I will tell you is I won, completely.

I am on the coast (15 km from the water) in the south. The catch is that I will absolutely have to learn a new language (a dialect of Berber). Though it will be challenging I am really excited for a new linguistic journey - and can't wait to get my hands on my textbook tomorrow.

There is a pool there, that I could be able to convince them to close for swimming lessons for women only! I also have a couple good friends of mine 'close' (read: under 9 hours away by bus). I clearly won.

I swear in on Friday. I'm about to see the world and stuff my eyes with wonder for two years of Peace Corps service and I couldn't possibly be more convinced that this was the correct next choice in my life.

'…Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there were, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that, shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.'"…

on my Facebook page. 

I didn't have the wherewithal nor the internet nor the knowledge to sit down and write out a real blog post about it. Instead I lived life to the fullest for the last few days, trying to figure out what was going on in the whirlwind that was the final days of training.

We found out a little bit more about the cash payments, how we will be paying our host families, what we need to do to get our housing approved, and what each of us needs to do in case of emergencies. We also learned a lot about our sites, and got visits from our mudiirs ('directors' which basically means our boss/point person in the context of PC. Since our main volunteer location is the dar ash-shabab the director of that building is the closest to a Moroccan boss we have). 

Let's start with site information.

A picture of a wonderful PCV (Peace Corps Volunteers, sorry but heads up this blog is going to be full of acronyms) who is COSing (Close of Service - i.e. leaving after completing her full two years) and they announce someone will be replacing her. Immediately I cross my fingers because she and I had discussed her site and it sounded so ideal for me. Then the photo of who will replace her comes up and its yours truly. I was ecstatic. I won. Paradise for a couple years, during which I will get an opportunity to learn Tashelheit (a Berber dialect). 

I speak to her online just a few hours later and she sweetens the deal over and over giving me details about the process and OUR site. First she lets me know she hand picked me to her replace her, so already I feel like a million bucks (I imagine having someone replace you is a whole boat load of feelings and for someone to think I am worthy of being their replacement enough to ask for me by name makes me feel oddly proud and prepared). Then she lets me know that her and my current site mate have picked out a sweet host family, and that essentially my moving process will be way easier than I ever could have imagined (she came up and met us in Agadir… and then brought me all the way to my bedroom). Then she explained how many things of hers I can have, free of charge, when she leaves in a month and though I wish she wasn't going so quickly (I kinda adore her bizaf) I am so thankful to not need to spend all of that cash out of pocket to get things like a bed which I simply might have not been able to afford. Finally, she tells me she is going to set me up with a whole bunch of contacts in town so that I can easily settle. 

April 4th rolls around and we head off to go get sworn in. There is extreme security for Morocco - metal detectors, a bomb-sniffing dog, and some brawny secret service. Why, you ask? Secretary of State John Kerry swore us in. I took the oath I have always dreamed of taking officially, right hand in the air, to defend our constitution against enemies foreign and domestic, and took the silent self-oath to be the best damn Peace Corps Volunteer I ever could. Don't tell the folks beyond my blog but I definitely teared up. The most exciting part of the moment though, was when a fellow PCV put her hand on my shoulder and said, 'We all know this isn't the last time you'll be taking this oath." I've said it before but sometimes it's just incredible to have people believe in you.

THEN Dom, sweet sweet wonderful Dom, somehow convinced the Secretary to take a selfie with us. It is excellent because it looks like a selfie of Dom that the Secretary snuck in on. We all forgot all we had been told about how we were ABSOLUTELY NOT TO APPROACH HIM and jumped into the photo. Sure as day you can see my knuckleheaded stretched smile on tiptoe. I believe there is another photo from a higher angle that might include a less ridiculous shot of me. I'll try and get a hold of it when internet permits. Of course we also took the formal picture, which I hope is a keeper, but the selfie was the win. 

The next morning we were off. I was only able to say goodbye to two of my former site mates, which is oddly uncomfortable. It felt kind of like leaving a family gathering by sneaking out while everyone is sitting down for dinner. It's okay though, I intend to call them often. 

 

After a bus and a train we arrived in Agadir. Google that so you can understand how gorgeous it is because my words will not do it justice. A beach city with the phrase 'Allah, alwaTan, almalak' 'God, Country, King' in the side of the mountain lit up completely at night. Breathtaking, simply breathtaking. There we splurged (perhaps too much?) on Indian/Pakistani food that in  my book was worth every penny (lamb curry with unreal rice and garlic nan…in case you were wondering). 

We spent a little more on some sangria on the beach, to toast getting this far and actually becoming PCVs. We spent the night in the PC usual hotel and had a lovely breakfast in the morning. Next up, a grand taxi and then a petit taxi and then a walk to where I now write to you all. Here I am, at my new host families house.

They are perfect. I will most assuredly be studying my ass off for the next month to get 'a grip' on this new language but my mama speaks fluent darija so she's working me into the conversation. I am only sad that I can't speak more with my little brother (unless he is just shy and actually does understand me?!) All in all, this is perfect. 

On a personal, completely unblog related note. I asked the person I like to be mine and they didn't hesitate to say, 'yes.' It's going to be complicated because it isn't exactly short distance, but I can't wait to give it a serious try. 

I'm waiting for the shoe to drop because I have done nothing to deserve quite this much good in my life. Tabark Allah ('blessings from G-d' …said to block the evil eye).