<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834</id><updated>2012-04-15T15:55:00.744-07:00</updated><category term='d'/><title type='text'>Operation Morocco</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>63</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-8311694829361835225</id><published>2010-04-10T03:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T03:47:58.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camp</title><content type='html'>I am writing this blog because some events have happened that I think you all should know about and it has been a long time since I have written to you.  This past week I was working at an English immersion camp for Moroccan kids in high school.  It all started on March 26th when I took a bus from Essaouira to Boulmane.  The entire trip from my house to Boulmane was 18 hours long.  By the time I arrived at my friend Natalie’s house I was surprising feeling good and ready to start camp the following day.  In Natalie’s site I picked up my rug and one of my dad’s rugs, which are both amazing and beautiful.  From there we went to Boulmane and got settled into the volunteers house that was in charge of the camp, Anthony.  This day I was a little flustered because by this point we had no direction or orders of what was to come the following week.  This kind of pressure makes me crazy.  I was forced to learn how to just relax and go with it, once again.&lt;br /&gt; The next day the kids arrived, I was surprised at the amount of stuff they brought for one week and they all were clean and dressed so nice.  This is uncommon in Imi N Tlit.  The other volunteers and I tested the kids based on the Peace Corps system.  Throughout the week we learned how flawed this system really is because some of those that excelled at the test were horrible at English but good at testing, and some of those that were nervous during the test should have been in different classes than those they were placed in.  We also learned we all score differently.  To learn this it made me feel good about myself because I have been testing below my level for the past two years because I freak out when it comes to language tests.  &lt;br /&gt; My friend Natalie and I were in charge of teaching the advanced English class and had to teach these kids grammar.  Natalie and I realized that we don’t know English that well.  The kids asked to learn about things like passive voice, present continuous, and conditional.  I still am a little confused about what all these words mean but we taught it and learned as we went along with the students.  Since Natalie is a wiz at languages and knows four of them I taught American culture portion and made videos with the kids. I was happy with this and will show you the videos when I get home, they are hilarious.&lt;br /&gt; During camp we also had to teach club activities, I taught a theater club where we performed a play about taking care of trees and the environment, then a health club where we made organ t-shirts and learned about the importance of each of the organs.  This was my favorite club because for a couple of days Natalie and I had been wearing our organ shirts and everyone was a little confused, this gave us a chance to explain ourselves.  The last day I did a henna club, which is a plant that they use to paint designs on their hands and feet.  Traditionally, this is done before any holiday, party, or wedding.  &lt;br /&gt; The kids at the camp were great.  It was so fun to hang out with educated boys and girls that are interested in other cultures and the world around them.  Typically, in our small villages no one thinks outside of their small surroundings. Also, I realized why boys and girls need to hang out at a young age.  They learned how to communicate with each other and be respectful to each other.  In my site boys and girls are totally separated except for in school.  Anytime they are in the same room outside of the classroom both genders act like total idiots and don’t know what to say.  The girls are shy and the boys are obnoxious.  Throughout the week little love affairs went on, which is totally healthy.  There is so much sexual harassment in this country and I believe that part of the reason for this is because neither party has any idea what to do with the other until they are married for years.  It was also a time for the American volunteers to prove this to the Moroccans.  All week us American men and women worked together and displayed our friendships that are cordial, respectful, fun, and platonic.  &lt;br /&gt; I was given the opportunity to teach one of the Moroccan staff who goes to school in Fes for English.  When we were at henna club one of the 14-year-old girls ran up to the 20 year old Moroccan, Alal, and kicked him.  Alal’s response was to run after this girl and try to beat her with a shoe.  I got in the middle and asked Alal what in the hell he was doing, he quickly responded with “Fatima Zahara kicked me.”  Alal was one of the staff not students and was going to hit her back that is something we would get in trouble for in kindergarten and arrested for doing at the age of 20.  I told Alal that you never hit women no matter what!  Alal said, “even if she kicked me first.” Me: “Yes, even if she kicked you first.” Alal: “Where is the democracy in that?”  I walked away laughing telling him that I didn’t know but never hit a lady.&lt;br /&gt; The last night we had a talent show which I performed my one hit Knocking on Heavens Door, it was my first talent show.  Even though I messed up a couple of times it went great.  I still laugh at the fact that a human being can play the same song for two years and not get bored.  I read a meditation book and it said all meditation was is concentrating on the same thing over and over; Knockin on Heaven’s Door is my meditation song.  I am so happy that I have gained the confidence to sing infront of people.  For the first 24 years of my life I was a closet singer because I was told in fourth grade that I was bad at singing by Mrs. Schaffer.  This killed my self esteem and makes me hate the American system that you can only do something your really good at.  How are you supposed to get good at anything without being given the opportunity to practice?&lt;br /&gt;     After a long week of smelly boys, great food, English, and camp games, the last day came.  I was so sick all week and had been coughing my lungs out and was ready for some sleep.  Our days went from 7 AM to 11 PM.  The good byes were tramadic, when the kids were saying good-bye to each other they were all crying and acting like they lived light years from each other and in all actuality they all live within twenty kilometers of one another.  I took this opportunity to teach them about sleep over’s and that they should all get together some weekend at someone’s house.  I hope they do this.&lt;br /&gt;    The sleep I was hoping for was a long way from reality because on the last day of camp I went to my friend Moira’s house and met up with some Peace Corps friends.  It was great we made great meals and talked into the wee hours of the night for three nights and two days.  I got slaughtered by bed bugs and got really sick from the water.  The illness didn’t come until I arrived in Marrakesh after a 14-hour bus ride.  I then proceeded to puke my guts out all night while sleeping in a room with three other volunteers one of which snored so loud I was about to punch her in the face.  My family can attest that I hate snoring so much and when I am tired and sick you better watch out if you are sleeping in the same room with me.  I kept my cool though and rushed home the next morning.  I was forced to ride a four-hour bus to Essaouira and then a taxi for another hour and a half.  I was miserable but that is life and there was no other option, I don’t own a helicopter.  &lt;br /&gt;     Once I got home I spent the day washing all of my bed bug clothing making sure they didn’t have any time to multiply.  I washed the clothes on my back naked because I didn’t want to risk getting any of my other clothes contaminated.  After three days in the sun I finally have taken those clothes off the line and trust they are bug free.  &lt;br /&gt;  Yesterday, was circumcision day in my site, my host brother Hussein got “fixed” or izal in Tashelheet.  I felt so sorry for him Hussein was such a mess yesterday; I have never seen him so quiet.  As Hyatt my host sister said yesterday “Hussein got circumcised and then he became quiet.”  To our surprise today Hussein is not quiet anymore he is back in full force and as loud as ever again.  It is amazing to me how quickly he bounced back. &lt;br /&gt;   Life is good here in Imi N Tlit.  I have been having tea galore and spending lots of time with my peeps.  I love it here but I can feel that it is time for a change.  I am ready for a new adventure; I am getting far to comfortable here and stir crazy. Emmy can't stay in one place for too long, this is the longest I have stayed put since I left Bemidji in 2002. Bring it on Austin or where ever I end up in Texas, I am ready for an adventure.&lt;br /&gt;  Next week I am going to Rabat for medicals to make sure I am in tiptop shape before they put me on the boat back to America.  I have been in site for three days then I am off again.  I am ready to not travel anymore on buses with hot breath and no leg room for ten hours at a time; but that time will come and I will miss these days so I am trying to enjoy everyday, one day at a time.&lt;br /&gt;Love you&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-8311694829361835225?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/8311694829361835225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=8311694829361835225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8311694829361835225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8311694829361835225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/04/camp.html' title='Camp'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-8184120929964695789</id><published>2010-03-23T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T06:00:17.538-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sachel and Kari's Trip</title><content type='html'>Sachel and Kari just came to visit for a week and the trip could not have gone better.  They arrive on a Wednesday where I picked them up from the airport,  where Sachel was sporting as much BSU gear that can be worn at one time and they had matching old school back packing packs.  We then took the bus to Marrakesh center where I introduced them to the chaos and they got to meet Doug for the first time.  We started the night by eating at my favorite pizza place.  &lt;br /&gt; Our second day was spent in the market bartering and buying so much stuff.  Doug helped me bargain and become friends with all of the shopkeepers. Marrakesh is a really busy city with lots of markets and lots of people going in every direction besides with the crowd.  Sachel and Kari did great and really seemed to enjoy this madness.  That evening I took them to a restaurant that I claimed was similar to Alice in Wonderland, but no one agrees with me on this.  I will take their word for it because I am the only who has not seen the movie.  It was a great meal and to my surprise it was insanely expensive.  Sachel will never let me live this down, but when I am rich I owe him and Kari a really expensive meal that actually has an Alice and Wonderland theme.&lt;br /&gt; The next day we were off to Essaouira, which Doug and I were excited about because we were totally worn out from Marrakesh.  Essa is a laid-back beach town with a lot less tourists and less scooters darting at you from all different directions.  Once we got settled into our apartment, that I had rented, Sachel and Kari took a long nap.  They claimed that Marrakesh was great and easy to handle but this nap proved them wrong.  We spent the evening playing games and I lost at a ruthless game of Jenga.  Grandma you would be happy, after our Jenga game we played a traditional game of Scrabble, which Kari won.  There was a wedding right outside of our window; Sachel and Kari got to see what that is like from the distance of our window.  &lt;br /&gt; It was back to the shops the second day.  After we bought some paintings Doug got us stuck in a jewelry shop where we proceeded to sit down and have tea.  At this point I knew we were done for and would be forced to buy something.  But I went with it and the man continued to show us horrible jewelry and we continued to tell him how great his shit was.  Then the time came to leave and he asked us what we wanted and we fished for something to buy so we could get the hell out of there.  Kari and I found a pair of earrings that the man tried to sell to us for an outrageous price.  We talked him down to a price we were willing to pay and ran.  It was a really interesting monumental experience in Kari and Sachel’s trip.&lt;br /&gt;We walked around in the wind some more where Sachel found a great Indian Chief ring and Kari found a great pink stone ring, and then finished the day with a nice Italian dinner.  That night we stayed up late talking about life and Morocco.  Kari started not feeling well this night and went to bed early and then started the next day feeling like someone was hammering on her joints.  We tried to take it easy this day.  We saw all of the fish markets and sat at the beach for a while.  Then it was off to Imi N Tlit (my village).&lt;br /&gt; In my village we made great meals and tried to regain some strength in our tired bodies.  The first full day Kari and Sachel were in my site Kari was really sick but she was a trooper and went to my host families for lunch.  After the first extremely awkward half hour my host sisters then warmed up to Kari and my host brother Hussein was a terror and started hitting people like he always does.  We had a great tajine (a traditional Moroccan dish).  While we were eating lunch my host mom scolded my host dad, her son that he did not fix us tea, so after lunch we had to stay for tea.  The room was filled with my neighbors because they wanted to check out Kari and Sachel.  With curious eyes burning into them Sachel and Kari did great and got along well with everyone.  After tea we had to take a group photo, which became a ridiculous event because everyone had to change their clothes and they couldn’t decide where to have this picture.  Naturally, they decided to take it by the cow in the back yard.  We were really confused by this but followed.&lt;br /&gt; After lunch with the host family we went to the neddy.  This was great because all my neddy girls attacked me like they always do with hundreds of questions about Kari mostly.  It was so happy to get to share this time with Sachel, Kari, and Doug because they got to truly see what I do when I am in my site.  &lt;br /&gt; We had one last morning in my site and we had planned on going to the clinic but found that it was closed because my nurse decided not to show up to work.  That is life here in Morocco.  We accepted this and moved on to the argan cooperative.  Sachel and Kari and I got the opportunity to break open argan shells.  Sachel was not a natural at this but as we know he never gives up.  Kari was a natural after she figured it out.  The women love it when I bring people there so they really enjoyed this.  We got to see the oil processing room that my host sister runs and we learned that it takes two kilos of argan nuts to make a liter and a half of oil.  I have no idea what that means but my guess is that it is a lot of nuts for not very much oil.&lt;br /&gt; We then proceeded to make our way back to Marrakesh so Sachel and Kari could make it to the airport the next day.  We returned to our same hotel tired and ragged, me especially.  Sachel and Kari have already mastered the skill of sleeping on the bus, which I can’t do because I am so worried about missing something.&lt;br /&gt; We spent the evening in the market to look at everything one last time.  We also got a birds eye view of the market for some great pictures.  We had our final meal together at my favorite pizza place where we had our first meal.  By this point in the trip Kari was so tired of pizza she decided to eat McDonalds!  The next morning I woke up with Sachel and Kari and took them to the airport where they headed off to London.  &lt;br /&gt;Sachel and Kari’s trip really helped me realize that no matter how many blogs I write, or pictures I show you, or videos I send home no one will ever really understand my life here until they see it in person.  I am so grateful for someone from my family to see what I do here and what my life is truly like.  This will help when I get home and you all have questions, Sachel and Kari can help you understand from their perspective.  I had such a great time with them and I hope you get to see all of their pictures.  &lt;br /&gt;I love you both so much and thank you for everything.  Doug thought you both were great and funny.&lt;br /&gt;Until Next Time&lt;br /&gt;Love &lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-8184120929964695789?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/8184120929964695789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=8184120929964695789' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8184120929964695789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8184120929964695789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/03/sachel-and-karis-trip.html' title='Sachel and Kari&apos;s Trip'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-2611846802008455950</id><published>2010-03-05T04:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T04:39:45.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Last Two Weeks</title><content type='html'>It has been a long time since I have updated you on my life, so I am going to take this time to tell you about my last two weeks of life because it has been a great one with lots of adventures.  On February 14th I spent my Valentines Day in Imsuane, a cute beach town about 40 kilometers from my house.  It was raining and the weather was not nice but I went swimming in the rain anyways.  It had been a year since I had put my swimsuit and I have decided that it is a requirement as a human to put on your swimsuit at least once a year. After being in Morocco for two years now I have realized how great an adrenaline rush is.  In the land of rollercoaster’s, ski hills, and wake boards to ride we don’t realize how lucky we are to stop thinking for a moment and just focus on trying not to die.  It is so fun to ride down a ski hill and not think and just let your soul soar.  When I was in the ocean all I could concentrate on was not getting knocked out by a huge wave or a surfer and it was so fun and gave me such a rush. &lt;br /&gt; On Monday I took the journey to Marrakesh where I spent the night before heading up to Rabat for my closing of service conference.  On Tuesday I finally got to see all of my Peace Corps friends, I love to see everyone so much!!!!  I will tell you a little about some of my Peace Corps buddies because they are all so interesting.  Starting with my friend Moira she is my best friend here, Miora’s dad is from Scotland and she is from Minnesota too.  Chris Schallaci is an Italian Mexican American and yes he knows like six languages.  Adam Campbell is from New Hampshire and is the sweetest asshole I have ever met.  Casey Coes is also from New Hampshire and went to American University and is addicted to adrenaline, he reminds me a lot of my brother B.J.  Natalie Cameron is a Mexican from California and she is the most laid back girl I have ever met.  Audrey Huse is from Colorado and is the most independent hard-core women I have ever met, she reminds me a lot of my mom.  Evan is from California and his parents are from Jamaica and Guyana, he is getting married in August to another Peace Corps volunteer.  Then of course there is Doug, he is a total Midwest boy from Michigan and he loves music and is the most considerate person I know.  These are my main crew of friends but of course there are more but I will get on with telling you about my life.&lt;br /&gt; We started the conference on Wednesday and of course the night before we stayed up way too late, so getting to the conference at 8:30 was a struggle but we made it!  The first day was centered around people talking about their feelings on Peace Corps.  For the most part people were happy with their experience thus far but of course there are always those negative people that stayed but should have gone home months ago.  I had a great time and really enjoyed the day, but most of the guys hated it because they are not down with talking about how they feel.  &lt;br /&gt; That evening a group of us went out dancing and my friend Erin got so into it she broke her ankle.  It was a great time but once again we went to bed far too late.  Thursday’s sessions were based on career development and thinking about life after Peace Corps.  We had some Peace Corps graduates come speak to us and they all were so interesting and had such fun jobs.  All of them live in Morocco working for Foreign Service, USAID or the FBI.  We also had someone come talk to us about working at USAID and he was so great because he was so honest with us about the pluses and minuses of working for the government and living abroad. &lt;br /&gt;    On this day I decided what I am going to do with my life and that is such a relief.  I have decided that I am going to get my masters in Education and hopefully teach while I am getting this degree.  After I get my masters and teach for two years I want to get a teaching job in the Middle East so I can learn Arabic and teach at the same time.  Once I know Arabic I will try to get a job working at USAID or some kind of development organization so I can work on education policy in Afghanistan or Iraq or somewhere?  Of course, those of you who know me well know that my plans change and who knows what I will actually do but I have a plan!!!!&lt;br /&gt; After a good night of rest we had our final day of the conference ahead of us.  This is the day we learned about what we need to get done before we leave.  Nothing notable happened but I am sure it was a good day.  That evening I went to dinner with my good friends and then had a great conversation with my friend Evan about what it was like to be a black man.  I learned I will never understand how it is different and that I can’t pretend like I do.  &lt;br /&gt; Once again I went to bed way way way too late and with only two hours of sleep Doug forced me to go to the train station to make our way to Azilal.  I was a mess in the morning and could barely tie my own shoes.  After waiting for a two hour delayed train I pulled it together and had one of my best days while in Peace Corps.  I shared a car with Dan Driscol one of the most interesting people on the planet.  He is the only person I know that is most likely to win a gold medal, become the president all while being modest.  Dan just got back from Yemen where he spent 42 days learning Arabic.  Dan is one of those people you have to meet to truly understand how great he is, but I am a fan!&lt;br /&gt; When Dan, Doug, my friend Michelle and I were waiting for a taxi to go to Azilal we had the most interesting thing happen.  From nowhere this crazy women started sweeping up trash around our feet with her bare hands.  I was totally freaking out because I just had no idea what she was going to do next.  I tried to relax and ignore her but I couldn’t.  She sat next to Doug at the taxi stand and started throwing trash on him and grabbing him.  This kept happening and she kept trying to touch all of us.  In order to try to control this woman one of the taxi dudes went and got a rabid dog to sick it on her. I couldn’t take it anymore so I ran with my friend Michelle.  The dog was not interested in biting the lady but she did eventually run off.  It was the weirdest thing that is so hard to explain but I will tell you this would never happen in America.  Morocco is such an adventure.&lt;br /&gt; Doug and I spent three days in Azilal recuperating from the week of fun and intensity.  We also spent this time to solidify our Italy plans.  Then it was off to Ait Bouli, Doug’s village.  I love this place so much and always get so sucked in when I arrive I always stayed longer than planned.  Doug lives with his host family still and they are the greatest people ever.  I have really formed a relationship with his host sister, Fatiha who is in middle school.  We always crochet together and she is the sweetest girl ever.  While in Bouli I spent my days watching movies, hiking, and starring at the snow capped mountains.  It was a really great time.&lt;br /&gt; My last day in BouIi was a really tough day because I was really feeling homesick.  Three or four weeks had gone by since I have talked to my parents last and I really missed them.  My dad did call but for some reason it wasn’t working and I was so upset about this.  I was feeling like I was not apart of a family anymore because it had been so long since I have participated in mine.  Thanks to Doug he brought everything back into perspective and was really great.  I went to bed feeling a lot better.  &lt;br /&gt; After six days in Bouli it was time to start making the journey home.  I took a detour to get some books from Dan, Ghost Wars and Horse Soldiers!  I am really excited to read these books, if you know nothing about them you should go out and buy them now, every American should be required to read these books, they are about Afghanistan.  Last week was spring break here because of Mohamed’s Birthday.  This is why Fatiha was home from school, she goes to school in Bougamez, in the city Dan lives because there is only a primary school in Bouli.  I got to sit up front with Fatiha and she put her arm around me and she made me love my life here in Morocco and made me feel apart of something when I was feeling so lonely.  Fatiha got to show me off to all of her school friends and I felt like a trophy, it was great!!&lt;br /&gt; After 12 hours of vans, taxis, and buses I finally made it back to Essaouira where I spent last night getting prepared to come back to site.  I know I have said this before but it is always so hard to come back after being gone for two weeks.  Now I am in my house and it is freezing and raining but I am so happy and content. Something interesting that happened to me today, because it has been raining so much here the streets of Essaouira were flooded and I got to forge a river in a wagon.  I paid a guy ten cents to pull me across the flooded streets in a big wagon, it was a site to see and unforgettably funny.  &lt;br /&gt; I am done now.&lt;br /&gt;Love Emmy&lt;br /&gt;PS Sachel and Kari are coming to visit me next week and I couldn’t be more excited!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-2611846802008455950?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/2611846802008455950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=2611846802008455950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2611846802008455950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2611846802008455950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/03/my-last-two-weeks.html' title='My Last Two Weeks'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-2694706728716605289</id><published>2010-02-19T10:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T11:08:16.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>donkey Haul</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;title&gt;&lt;/title&gt;&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.1  (Win32)"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { margin: 0.79in } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;So this is my first ever “blog” entry, and it's not even an authentic one as I'm just a one-time contributor to Emmys blog, but she asked me to write about the work I'm currently doing in my site so I shall do my best.  My site is located in the geographic center of the country, deep in the High Atlas Mountains in a province called Azilal.  My house is about 6,000 feet above sea level, and due the remote location of my village, I have spent my entire two years living with a host family.  If you have seen her pictures then you know that Emmy lives in a surprisingly beautiful cement/tile house with an orange tree growing in the middle of it.  I live in a three story mud house (affectionately referred to as the mud mansion) where I have a bedroom and a kitchen to myself, and the rest is shared space with the host family.  While Emmy's site is quite dry, my site is a comparative water park, with rivers and natural springs in abundance, and it is because of this fact that I have had the opportunity to do some projects with potable water.   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;	While volunteers do a number of different jobs over their two years of service, the main focus of my work has been the construction of two gravity-fed water chateaus.  Essentially you find a natural spring above a village, construct a cover over it and run piping from the spring down to the village where you then construct a large cement receptacle (chateau) with a number of faucets for people to fill their water containers.  Gravity does the work of a pump so the materials needed are basic and easy/inexpensive to replace if there are any problems.  Using grant money that was secured through USAID, all that I had to purchase was cement, rebar, and plastic pipe.  The total cost was around $3,200 and if all goes according to plan, these projects will provide clean water to over 800 people who have never had access to it before.  Currently both of these villages get their water from the same rivers where they wash their clothes and let their animals graze.  Needless to say that the incidence of waterborne illnesses is very high, as is the infant mortality rate.  The local nurse estimates that one in every four children born in the area dies before age four (my host mother alone has lost seven children).  The goal is that with clean water readily available, people will stop drinking from the river and these numbers will decrease.  While this sounds pretty simple (and in theory is), there is far more work then you would think necessary involved in a project like this.  In the next paragraph I will try to get a little more in depth about the process, while not being entirely self indulgent (we're the real heroes!), or boring the life out of you.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;	The projects began when people from each of these villages approached me with the idea.  It is important, and heavily stressed by our program staff, that project ideas are community generated and not just us thinking we know what's best for everyone (perfect opportunity for American foreign policy joke, but I'll move on).  After I found out where the work was needed I had to go and measure the output of the springs a number of different times.  The output levels vary depending on seasons, rain, snow, etc. so it was necessary to observe the water output a number of times over the course of a year.  This wasn't the most enjoyable part of the project considering both of the villages are six hour round trip hikes from my house.  Hiking three hours in 100 degree sun to do 2 minutes of work, then turn around isn't tons of fun... woe is me... but I digress.  The point of this is to make sure the springs produce year round, we don't want to spend $1600 on a chateau that only collects water 4 months out of the year and leaves people drinking river water the other 8.  After we were confident that the springs were consistent, the next step was measuring the distance from spring to village.  For this I bought a 20 meter piece of rope and had a friend help me stretch it along the ground over and over until we had our measurement.  One village needed 2300 meters (1.4 miles) of pipe, and the other needed 1200 meters (¾ mile).  Throughout this process I had to keep emphasizing that I would help purchase the materials needed, but that the physical labor was their responsibility, and they would not be paid for it (except for one engineer in each village who knows how to make sure the chateaus can hold all of the water pressure).  The hope with this approach is that the villagers are empowered and enthusiastic about developing their communities, but do not have the money to but the materials necessary to do so.  Peace Corps provides the materials, but the actual chateau and the work involved is entirely community based.  After the frustratingly tedious process of working the numbers over and over into the numerous budgets and reports that USAID requires, I sent my proposal in.  Two weeks later it was approved and a month after that the money was in my bank account.  I picked the money up at a bank in Marrakech (where I tried to stuff 24000 Moroccan dirhams into one of those tourist money belts on my waist in front of 30 people.  When you put that many bills into one of those things the ensuing bulge on your hip is essentially an advertisement to pickpockets that says “rob me, not only am I rich, but I'm clearly an idiot as well”) and three days later paid the hardware store owner in a village 24 kilometers from my site for all of the materials needed.  Two days after that the materials were delivered to the central market town in my site and three days after that people from the first village arrived to start transporting the materials out to their village.  This was a hilarious scene as they brought 39 donkeys and mules to transport everything. Seeing these animals poked, prodded, and loaded down with hundreds of pounds of cement, all while maintaining that stoic dignity that only donkeys possess was quite something.  The next day the second village picked up their materials and the hard part of my job was finished.  This was a month ago and all of the big work is out of my hands now.   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;	This past week I visited both villages on back to back days (which was terrible scheduling on my part and proved to me that being skinny doesn't mean that I'm in shape, but that I probably just don't eat enough) to see how the work was coming.  One village was already well underway digging trenches for the pipe, while the other village was in need of some motivation so I lied and said that if the work wasn't finished before May that I would take the materials back ( a bluff that in hindsight seems absurd as it took them 39 donkeys to get the stuff out there and I don't even own one).  I don't know if they believed me but they assured me they would start two days later, and since the engineer gets half of his payment now and half once the project is completed I am confident the work will get done.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;	So that is what I have been doing with my Peace Corps service.  I can't stress how lucky I am that I have a sight with water readily available and to have had people in my community who wanted to work with me.  This is not a common scenario in Morocco and my actual workload was minimal compared with volunteers who actually have to search for work, i.e. Emmy ( and I write this with complete honesty and sincerity, not just for brownie points).  Peace Corps has been incredibly challenging, and I was handed a project.  I can only imagine the difficulties of having had to find work on my own.    Thanks for reading this, I hope it has been at least mildly informative and/or entertaining.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;	- Doug Phillips   &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-2694706728716605289?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/2694706728716605289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=2694706728716605289' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2694706728716605289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2694706728716605289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/02/donkey-haul.html' title='donkey Haul'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-2097613253489743019</id><published>2010-02-19T10:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T10:58:08.762-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Donkey hau</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-2097613253489743019?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/2097613253489743019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=2097613253489743019' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2097613253489743019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2097613253489743019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/02/donkey-hau.html' title='Donkey hau'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-8906707470444817984</id><published>2010-02-19T10:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-19T10:58:06.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Donkey</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-8906707470444817984?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/8906707470444817984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=8906707470444817984' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8906707470444817984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/8906707470444817984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/02/donkey.html' title='Donkey'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-6415969236459698869</id><published>2010-01-25T02:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T02:30:58.645-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Big January Update</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone it has been a long time again.  I have decided that tonight is the night that I must update you all on my life here in Morocco.  Since last time I have spent my first Christmas away from home and it was an interesting one.  I was in Assilah a beach town North of Rabat.  It is a great place but it rained the entire time I was there with my boyfriend Doug.  I really missed home but we spent the week of rain inside watching movies and listening to all the new music Doug downloaded.  From there we went to our friend Natalie’s village in the mountains near Azrou.  The sun finally decided to shine and we looked at rugs and built a mini raft and watched it rush down the river.  Life in Morocco is full of simple days and pretending you’re a child again.  After leaving Ait Hamza we traveled to the Sahara Desert for New Year’s.  It was an amazing time spent with lots of Peace Corps volunteers.  One of my greatest New Year’s to date.  I have decided that I must spend every New Year’s in “the nature!”  After New Year’s Doug and I traveled back to Marrakesh and spent our last days together before we ventured back to our own villages.  This journey let me see the diversity Morocco has to offer from beaches to mountains to gorges to desert.  It is truly an amazing place and I am very lucky to be doing Peace Corps here.&lt;br /&gt;            Once I got back to my site anxiety came rushing in with questions of what should I do for work, have I accomplished anything here, what am I going to do after Peace Corps.  I have been struggling with these questions since I arrived in Morocco and sometimes the waves of anxiety hit me harder than I can handle.  Last Monday this all came to a head when I totally lost it and had a horrible day of crying and wishing I had my mom to talk to.  I ended up talking to Sachel and he put it all in perspective for me and now I am back on track. &lt;br /&gt;            After talking to Sachel I decided that I am going on sabbatical from work for the moment and going to focus on integrating back into my community.  When I left for two weeks everyone thought I went back to America for good and was very sad that I never said good-bye.  I don’t really understand why they thought this because they all know I am leaving in May.  Here in Imi n Tlit months don’t really matter and nobody really has a grasp on what day of the week it is, nonetheless what month it is.  Now that I am back and they realize that it is only January they all are ready to have tea with me. &lt;br /&gt;            I have a hard time booking my time here because everyone wants to have tea with me all at once and then I don’t know how to even begin choosing where to start with my tea times.  This usually results in me just going to my host families and nobody else’s houses for a couple of weeks.  Now I have started getting a schedule and I have to go to Rabat for a dentist appointment in three days.  It seems like every time I get back into the groove of things there is some holiday, or school break, or I have to go to Rabat.  I am just coming to the point where I am going to do the best I can and I need to stop pressuring myself with work and live in the now the best I can.  I also need to take mini steps toward my future instead of just letting it overwhelm me. &lt;br /&gt;            Today when I was at the internet I got the best email from my mom with lots of wisdom part of the email said “None of us know what we are doing with our lives and we all hang on to and let go of people, places, and things as we go along.  Security is an illusion and life is a journey not destiny.”  I thought that was the perfect thing to say for how I have been feeling lately.&lt;br /&gt;            After I got back from my Internet session in Smimou today I ran into one of my neddy girls and she told me about some town drama that was happening and I became apart of the investigation.  The lady that runs the neddy supposedly came back from Essaouira today with 57,000 durhams, which is like 7,000 dollars, which could not have been right.  Regardless of the amount she lost a lot of money and started accusing the other girls at the neddy of stealing it so they all were forced to be strip searched to prove it wasn’t them.  Then when I got back we started looking for this boy that probably stole the money that all of a sudden is no longer in town, kind of suspicious?  Since, I am allowed to go anywhere in town and the girls aren’t I was told to go to all the café’s and the middle school to see if he was seen today.  No luck, my guess is that he fled to Casablanca and is getting on a plane to France right now. &lt;br /&gt;This story has become the talk of the town and will be for years to come.  It was kind of fun to listen to all the women speculate on who and how this happened.  My real guess is that someone stole the money in a taxi or it was misplaced somewhere.  Or since I don’t like the lady that runs the neddy I also speculated that she made all this up so she doesn’t have to pay the women at the neddy for their work.  I was quite the investigator today and everyone thought all my ideas were the funniest because none of them dared say what I was saying.  I will probably get in trouble for this tomorrow but I don’t care it reminded me of how fun it is to be from a small town sometimes and run around and talk about people.  Yes I know gossip is a sin but we all like to relish in it from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;Other stories that I need to tell you about that I don’t want to forget, the other day I was having trouble putting my propane tank on my oven so I asked the shop keeper next door to come help me.  My propane tank was clearly leaking and he decided to test it with a lighter anyways, which started a huge fire.  I started running because my basic instincts were that I am not going to get blown up because of this.  He started laughing at me and put the fire out with his Jalaba, which is Moroccan clothing that is robe like.  In the end he fixed the problem and nobody lost any skin to third degree burns.&lt;br /&gt;Story three for you, every time I go to the post office to pick up a package I have to wait for a customs guy to come and make sure there aren’t any bombs in my packages.  Every time he goes through my packages I have tons of food in them and he has started to notice.  So mister package man looks at me seriously and tells me this isn’t Somalia we do have food in Morocco.  Then I have to explain to him if he moved to America he would like it if his mom sent him Moroccan food.  He did not buy this and still thinks I am crazy for getting Trader Joe’s sesame almonds sent to me, there are almonds here in Morocco but there so expensive and not sesame covered;)&lt;br /&gt;Well that is all for now.  Next week I am off to Rabat for a dentist appointment and a glasses appointment.  I am looking forward to this because I will have time to do some applications for my future, do some paperwork that the beaucracy of Peace Corps is making me do, and to see Doug.  I really don’t want to leave my site at this point because I am making progress on my reintegration.  But, I will just have to work real hard when I get back.  My plan for work in the future is to keep doing tooth-brushing lessons and paint some health murals on some schools but my main priority for the next four months is to be with my people of Imi n Tlit. &lt;br /&gt;Can you believe that I only have four months left!!!!!  This is bitter sweet and I am going to really enjoy my time I have left here and I will really miss the people and the simplicity of my life here.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time love,&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-6415969236459698869?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/6415969236459698869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=6415969236459698869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6415969236459698869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6415969236459698869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2010/01/big-january-update.html' title='Big January Update'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-2470212439071092613</id><published>2009-12-04T05:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-04T05:43:44.665-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holidays</title><content type='html'>Dear All,&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving and Laid Kabir have passed since the last time I talked to you.  I will start with Thanksgiving, three of my friends came over to my house for the holiday, which was so nice.  We made pies, mashed potatoes, my favorite Jell-O fruit salad, green beans, stuffing, sweet potatoes, and turkey.  My friend Tim raised a turkey for this year’s holiday but it turned out to be a disappointment, there was barely any meat on the turkey.  I know nothing about raising turkeys but this one was a disgrace.  How long do you have to raise a turkey before it is ready to eat?  We bought other turkey to make up for it and the meal turned out to be amazing.  I even made meringue by hand, Grandma you taught me well.  We were doubtful that the meringue would ever fluff up but with enough manpower it happened.  I have decided that in America we have too many appliances, we can just do it by hand and then not have crowded kitchens with mixers and all kinds of gadgets.  I have even discovered how to make toast without a toaster. &lt;br /&gt;            Once the meal was prepared we had a nice family style dinner and sat around discussing what we were thankful for.  This year I am thankful for having such great new and old friends, my family, and for my growth in this past year.  Last year I was surrounded by such negative volunteers who all wanted to go home, now they have gone home and I have been graced by the presence of three new volunteers that don’t take a single moment for granted. &lt;br /&gt;            Two days after Thanksgiving was the big holiday here in Morocco where they slaughter a sheep, Laid Kabir.  I went to my host family’s house to celebrate and it was a great day.  I have been dreading this day for months now because they like to eat the stomach and head and heart and lungs and all the icky parts we through out in the states.  This year wasn’t as bad, I guess I am getting used to this place.  I spent the day with my host family and then spent the evening resting and trying to get the taste of sheep out of my mouth, which never happened; I have been eating at peoples houses everyday since and continue to eat sheep.  It has a real gamey taste that I hate.  Last night  I decided that I needed to take a break because it got to the point where everything tasted like sheep, even raspberry crystal light.&lt;br /&gt;            I am almost finished with a Christmas video that I am sending home because this is the first Christmas I will be away from home.  I wanted to share my life here with you all so you could get a better idea of how and where I live.  In the video I filmed the sheep slaughter but don’t give you any warning when it is coming, sorry, my host family didn’t give me much warning either.  Last year they slaughtered the sheep themselves and they made quit a production of it, but this year someone came over and slaughtered the sheep.  This is how they do it in cities, the town butcher goes around to all the houses and does the killing for them.  I guess Imi n Tlit is transforming into a city, HaJ&lt;br /&gt;            Work wise my focus has completely changed.  I have started working more with the middle school students and have stopped going to my neddy as much.  The neddy has started making sandals and it has essentially becoming a sweatshop, but they are happy about it.  The girls make 24 dirham’s a month, which is less than a penny a day.  I just read a New York Times article about how sweat shops have helped women’s rights, because when they have some kind of income women have more of a say what happens in the household.  Also, if women have an income they tend to spend it on the family, where as men tend to spend it on liquor and prostitutes. &lt;br /&gt;            Since the neddy is always transforming into something new I decided that I needed more stable work, so I have started teaching English in the Middle School.  I am remembering why I wanted to be a teacher, when I am in front of a classroom I get an adrenaline rush, and I am so excited.  I also figure if I can teach Middle School students in another language I can teach anyone.  I am really gaining confidence in myself.  Even if I don’t become a teacher it is helping me have the courage to get up in front of a crowd and speak.  Yesterday, I had thirty students and it is hard to keep control of that many kids, small class sizes are important. &lt;br /&gt;            I have no idea what I am going to do when I get home, but I am really trying to focus on living one day at a time.  I freak out when I think into the future, it is amazing to me how much weight is taken off your shoulders when you just take one day at a time. &lt;br /&gt;            After saying all this I will tell you my thoughts on my future, I have been thinking that for the summer I am going to move to Minneapolis and find some kinds of low-grade job and live with friends.  This idea excites me because it has been so long since I have gotten to hang out with my childhood friends.  But, then today I was reading Into the Wild and was thinking that I need to move to Alaska for the summer. This also excites me because it is somewhere I have seen and heard so much about.  I would love to work at Denali National Park or do something in the wilderness because moving to a city seems really daunting at this point. &lt;br /&gt;            After the summer it is up in the air, I will apply all over and see what happens and who hires me.  I am still focusing on D.C. and Afghanistan.  It is crazy to me that I am more afraid of moving back to America than I am about moving to Afghanistan.  I feel like I can relate better to Moroccan culture than my own at this point, and Afghanistan is just a way more intense kind of Morocco.  We will see if Obama’s troop insurgence will permit me to find a job working for an NGO in Afghanistan.  I can’t think about it all now, it is too much. &lt;br /&gt;            Last week I talked to my dad and for the first time he didn’t make me more stressed about my future.  He had some great advice about just going with it and that the unknown is apart of living and not a bad thing.  My dad is reading this new book and it is doing wonders for his advice giving skills.  Usually, when I talk to Sachel or my dad I end the conversation being really stressed out, but this past week I really just felt like my life will be good if I keep living it and don’t get scared. The worst thing I could do is get scared and choose a life of comfort.  For some people that is what they want and now is the time in their lives to settle down, not me!  I need to keep drifting around this world and keep learning everything that I can.  Someday's, I am really jealous of my friends that have everything figured out and their lives seem known and mine seems like such a mess, but this is how I want to live, and  I am determined to make it work out for me.  Well, I have been going on for a long time and now it is time for me to close.&lt;br /&gt;I love you all and Happy Holidays,&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;br /&gt;Give Santa a high-five for me this year, because Santa has forgets to come to Morocco.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-2470212439071092613?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/2470212439071092613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=2470212439071092613' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2470212439071092613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2470212439071092613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/12/holidays.html' title='Holidays'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-7805179507379537352</id><published>2009-11-23T05:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T05:39:00.946-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I am 26!</title><content type='html'>Hello Everyone,&lt;br /&gt;I just got done celebrating my 26th Birthday and I am feeling good about this new age.  The only thing that makes me feel wierd about getting older is I  have no idea where I will be when I have my next birthday.  For all I know I could be in Afghanistan or Azerbijan?  This makes me nervous that I am about to embark on a new adventure in the next year, right when I am beginning to feel comfortable.  All I can do is live one day at a time and see where that takes me.  I am really understanding what it means to live one day at a time and it is relieving if you can allow yourself to truly just go with it. &lt;br /&gt;I had a really great birthday in Essaouira with some of my Peace Corps friends.  We had a nice lunch and had a rockin dance party at the end of the night, with my amazing Bose speakers.  I wish you could have all been there and I really miss you.  I have been feeling home sick the last couple of days, which tends to happen on birthdays and holidays.  But, I am going to push through and keep you all in my thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;For Thanksgiving my friend Tim is raising a Turkey and we are going to slaughter it on Wednesday and eat her on Thursday.  When in my life will I be able to do this again?  I hope you all eat lots of ham for me because that is something you can't find here.  Happy Thanksgiving!&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-7805179507379537352?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/7805179507379537352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=7805179507379537352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7805179507379537352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7805179507379537352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-am-26.html' title='I am 26!'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-5397826565482025553</id><published>2009-11-11T04:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T04:16:45.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>November Update</title><content type='html'>I haven't written in a long time because I haven't been home.  I spent last week in Ait Bouli with Doug.  It was a great and relaxing time, his site is so beautiful and in the mountains.  I am writing this blog from the internet cafe, which I usually write at home and edit before you all get to see this but it has been too long so here we go.  Anyways, I am now back at home and have been adjusting to being alone again.  Everytime I leave I have to do this readjustment back into my site and it sucks.  It takes a couple of days for me to feel motivated to get out there and see people.  I finally got back on the horse yesterday and took charge. &lt;br /&gt;I started by going to the middle school and seeing the principle, who I kind of really don't like because he is really hard on me.  Also, last summer I started having him teach me arabic and he asked me to spend the night, which is totally uncalled for in this culture, I think it is in  American culture too.  I would never spend the night at my bosses house in the states.  Yesterday, was the first day that I have been to the middle school all year because I have been avoiding it like the swine flu.  Once I got there and Said gave me a hard time about not seeing me all year we got down to business, I am going to start teaching  a health/English class on Tuesday and Wednesdays.  I also went to the women's association, where there is a preschool, to set up toothbrushing lessons with the little ones.  I am so excited because I love little kids! &lt;br /&gt;I also set up an appointment to discuss a water project, the biggest problem in my village is the lack of water.  The water is shut off everyday at 6 and the kids that spend the night at the middle school are going to the bathroom outside because there is no water to flush the toilets.  There is also not enough water to make dinner.  It is a big problem and nobody is doing anything about it.  I tried last year to get a project going and they told me that the people in Essaouira said they were going to take care of it.  I think they are now realizing that I can do it much faster than the province can.&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow I have seven Peace Corps volunteers to be trained on HIV/Aids in Morocco.  December 1st is international Aids day so all volunteers are asked to do something for this.  I am going to travel around all the schools in my region with my fellow province mates and we are going to do Aids education in the schools. &lt;br /&gt;Other than that I don't have much going on in my life.  I am so excited for Sachel and Kari to come and see my life in March!  It is so long away but I still dream about it like it were tomorrow.  I also have been bumming that I am going to miss my first Christmas ever, huh.  I guess it was bound to happen at some point.  I am turning 26 on November 21st, which is crazy, can you believe that I am going to 26!  Another side note I am reading the book Drifters and it is soooooo good.  Dad I feel like this a book you have read before?&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-5397826565482025553?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/5397826565482025553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=5397826565482025553' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/5397826565482025553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/5397826565482025553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/11/november-update.html' title='November Update'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-3163289991691699497</id><published>2009-10-20T07:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T07:28:10.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wedding!</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone, I hope you haven’t given up on me, I am still here in Morocco, living the dream.  I have been up to a lot since the last time I talked to you.  This past weekend I went to Rabat for my boss’s daughters wedding.  It was one of my most memorable experiences in country, thus far.  It all started last Friday when I went to Marrakesh to meet my friend Erin and Michelle, who were also going to the wedding.  On Saturday morning we woke up early to make the journey to Rabat.  To get to Rabat I took a train, the trains are a lot like the trains in Darjling Express, but this time we were granted the gift of A/C, which is normally not working.  Once we got to Rabat the time bomb started ticking until we had to be at the wedding, which started at 10 pm, yes started at 10 pm. &lt;br /&gt;            We all got ready at the Peace Corps office, since the train ride was a sweaty experience even with A/C, we all took European showers, meaning we just put on a bunch of perfume to cover up our sink because there is no shower at the Peace Corps office.  I barrowed a traditional Kaftan from one of the girls in my village so I wouldn’t stand out at the wedding.  I even got to wear make up and do my hair, which is a rarity in my life these days. &lt;br /&gt;            With my hair all done up, heels, and my Peace Corps friends in tow we arrived at the wedding and were surprised from the beginning when we entered we walked down a red carpet.  The wedding hall had a huge live band and city Moroccans galore.  When we entered the room everyone turned and stared at us because we were such a spectacle, but staring is something we are all used to.  In our villages we are like superstars and the fascination of our towns.  I guess we did look silly because all the us girls were in traditional garb and we all spoke their language.  The bride married a Frenchmen so there was a lot of Frenchies there too but we had more in common with the Moroccans than with them.  After living here for so long I am finding myself more accustomed to Moroccan simplicity than the Western world. &lt;br /&gt;            The wedding started with cookies, dancing and fresh squeezed juices.  Since it was a Muslim wedding no alcohol was there, which is unheard of in my world.  I didn’t know you could even have a wedding without drinks, but it was surprisingly so much fun without it.  We got crazy on the dance floor with Peace Corps staff and we were the buffers for young Moroccan girls that wanted to dance with boys, which is only appropriate to do if there are other girls dancing with them, we were chaperones. &lt;br /&gt;            At Moroccan weddings the bride changes five or more times into different Kaftans.  Layla, the bride, started in white, then wore blue and purple and ended the night in a western wedding dress.  Layla even threw a bouquet at the end of the night, which is a very westernized thing to do, but she lives in France with her husband, at this point Layla is more westernized than I am. &lt;br /&gt;            Dinner came out at two in the morning and it was insane how much food we got.  All of us Peace Corps Volunteers were like scavengers, like we had never seen food before.  We were all just so surprised at how much food there was that we felt like we had to eat everything.  When I go to weddings in my village each table of about ten people gets one chicken, at this wedding we had six chickens! The Volunteers there were the most uncivilized people there because we were just so surprised and the food was so good.&lt;br /&gt;Even when I am in my house I don’t have enough money to make the food that we were being served.  There was this fried cheese appetizers at the wedding that I can’t get out of my head because they were so amazing.  I never allow myself to even buy cheese or anything that I can’t get in my market because I can’t afford it.  Most of my friends allow themselves the luxury of cheese from time to time but I don’t even go down that road because once I start buying it I won’t be able to restrain myself.  It is weird to me to think about how I have to restrain myself from buying food because when I was in America I ate cheese and ham with every meal, now in Morocco there is no ham to be eaten and cheese is too expensive.  Even people on welfare in America get cheese.  I am not feeling sorry for myself part of the reason I joined Peace Corps is to learn discipline and I am doing that one slice of cheese at a time.&lt;br /&gt;            Enough about the food, the wedding was so beautiful and the music was actually enjoyable.  Most of the volunteers in Morocco don’t like going to weddings in our villages because it is such an enduring process.  We have to sit in rooms for hours listening to horrible music and the rooms are so crowded we are sitting on our own feet and people are breathing all over us because they are so close.  But this wedding was so amazing we got to sit in chairs, eat as much as we wanted to and men and women got to dance together.  In our villages men and women are separated for the entire evening. It was also a great time to bond with my bosses.  The father of the bride was so grateful that we came he gave us hugs when we finally left at five in the morning.  I am so honored to be given, the opportunity to have had this experience and thank that Lamqaddam family for inviting us to the wedding.&lt;br /&gt;            After the wedding I got on a train the next morning and headed into the Middle Atlas Mountains, for my friend Natalie and Brianna’s houses.  Months ago I decided to plan a craft weekend because as you all know I love crafts.  Bri was a textile major in college and she knows everything about crafts.  I didn’t even know that was a major and think I missed my calling.  I learned how to felt and knit.  Bri has a swing in her house so I also learned how to tie kite knots and I am going to hang a swing in my house.  I am so excited for this! &lt;br /&gt;            After a couple of days up North I made the journey back to my house and this is where I have been ever since and I never want to get in a taxi, bus, or train again.  It took me fifteen hours to get home from Azrou.  In America we would never travel that far for a weekend, but in Morocco it is an entirely different story, we do it all the time.  Friends that live six or seven hours from me are thought to be close and I would travel that far for a night, and these journey’s are not comfortable and rarely come equipped with A/C.  During these journey’s I rarely listen to music or read my book, I usually get totally wrapped up in my own thoughts that the time passes without me even realizing that four hours have gone by and I am still staring out the window.  I am getting to know who Emmy is and it is great!&lt;br /&gt;            Tomorrow I have to go get the stupid flu shot in Agadir, which is a six-hour journey there and back just for a flu shot.  But, if I refuse the shot, which I was tempted to do, I will get kicked out of Peace Corps.  I will suck it up and get in a crammed taxi, with four people in the back seat and two in the passenger seat, and get my damn flu shot.  Just another opportunity to enter my brain and figure out what is going on in there.  Sometimes I get bored of my own thoughts but then I realize that I have no choice I am stuck with this person for the rest of my life so I better get comfortable with this person. “Where ever you go, there you are.”&lt;br /&gt;Love Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-3163289991691699497?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/3163289991691699497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=3163289991691699497' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/3163289991691699497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/3163289991691699497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/10/wedding.html' title='Wedding!'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-6010880502951873746</id><published>2009-09-25T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T05:34:26.341-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Afghanistan</title><content type='html'>If anybody out there reading this blog knows how to get a job in Afghanistan please contact me at &lt;a href="mailto:emmy.josefson@gmail.com"&gt;emmy.josefson@gmail.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is worth a shot giving a shout out to the cyber world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-6010880502951873746?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/6010880502951873746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=6010880502951873746' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6010880502951873746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6010880502951873746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/09/afghanistan.html' title='Afghanistan'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-6585717295520594012</id><published>2009-09-25T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-25T05:31:43.632-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Holiday</title><content type='html'>Ramadan has come to an end since the last time we spoke.  Last Monday was Laid Imzay, which means small holiday, and in two months we will celebrate Laid Imkorn, Big Holiday!  For Laid Imzay I baked four cakes and about a hundred cookies to give to my host family and my neddy girl’s families.  I started the morning not being too excited because I was being a party pooper.  Once I got the energy to go and visit my host family I was excited.  First, I went to my host family’s house and got a lecture because I didn’t come for breakfast, which is the big meal of the day.  But, I had forgotten and my host dad neglected to tell me that the day before when I saw him in town.  It is always so weird to see my host dad in town because it is shameful for him to talk to women in town, so he barely will acknowledge me but if we go up the hill five yards we are friends again.  I had lunch with my host family instead.&lt;br /&gt;            After lunch I proceeded to have tea at five other houses.  I was dressed up in my traditional Moroccan holiday gear and gave every family their cookies.  They were all real excited about the cookies but only one family actually served them when I went to their house.  Moroccan cookies are prettier than ours but they taste awful and they all taste the same, but American cookies are ugly and taste wonderful.  I discussed this with my neddy girls they told me they were scared of my cookies but once they got enough guts to eat them they were pleasantly surprised.&lt;br /&gt;            The day after Laid I went to my neddy and for some reason I was feeling off.  The girls were driving me nuts and I was so tired but had no reason to be.  Then I felt a rumble in my tummy before I left the neddy and knew that was a warning for what was to come, I just didn’t anticipate how bad it would be.  I have been sick in this country a couple of times and this was one of those times where I am incapacitated for days.  I was up all night puking and having crazy bowl movements at the same time.  At one point I was l lying on my tile floor wondering if I was going to live or maybe I was just wishing I would die, I had forgotten how bad it could feel to be alive sometimes.  Yesterday, I was in bed all day recovering and watching movies.  Today, I can eat again and I am feeling a little better.  I went to one of my Neddy girl’s houses because I couldn’t stay inside alone for another day.  At Latifa’s house I crocheted and when I got tired and slept for hours.  Then Latifa made me tea because I told her I hadn’t eaten for two days that was just too much for her to handle so she got right in the kitchen and started making me eggs and bread.  Of course, I ate too much for my first meal and it was filled with grease and sugar but I am still alive right now.  It just felt so good to want to eat again.&lt;br /&gt;            I am really feeling great here and comfortable.  Everyday I am realizing what a gift it is to be given this experience.  If it weren’t for my parents and my Grandma Thora I wouldn’t be here, Thank YOU!  I can feel myself changing for the better everyday, most of the time.&lt;br /&gt; I love you all&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;br /&gt;PS Mom I really missed you when I was sick, you’re the greatest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-6585717295520594012?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/6585717295520594012/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=6585717295520594012' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6585717295520594012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6585717295520594012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/09/little-holiday.html' title='Little Holiday'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-1821329421085128128</id><published>2009-09-01T08:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T09:00:23.201-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ramadan 2009</title><content type='html'>Since we chatted last, Ramadan has begun which has been good so far.  It started while I was vacationing in Agadir last weekend, a tourist town two hours down the coast from me. When the sun goes down every night I have been breaking fast every night with my host family and the food is so good.  The food consists of dates, cookies, soup, and then snacks of fish, fries, breads, and water.  Before I get ahead of myself I am going to explain what Ramadan is. To participate in Ramadan you are usually Muslim or a Peace Corps volunteer in a Muslim country.  During Ramadan everyone fasts from sun up to sun down for one month.  When you’re fasting you this wake-up at 3 in the morning to prepare breakfast and then they don’t eat or drink anything until the sun goes down.  Right now the sun rises around 5 and sets around 7:26 PM.  When you don’t eat all day it is so interesting how you notice every minute before you get to eat again. I have been fasting on and off depending on the day.  Most days I have to drink water because it is so hot. Today I did fast all day because I went to Smimou to use Internet and check the mail.  Since I was in town all the stores are closed that sell food. If I did decide to eat everyone would give me the hairy eye and curse me.  It is highly looked down upon to eat around people that are fasting. &lt;br /&gt;            Today was such a long day without food or water.  It was one of those days where nothing you want to be open is open and everything you try to get done is so difficult.  One of my battles today was going to the Post office; I walked up the hill in the blistering sun to find a long line of about a hundred people trying to get their paychecks.  Since, most people don’t have bank accounts the only way for them to get paid is by having the money mailed.  But as we all know mailing physical money is really not a good idea.  If someone wants to send money to in Smimou from Casablanca they go to a post office in Casa and then the money is transferred to the post office in Smimou.  Most of this money isn’t a paycheck it is sent from family members who work in the city and send money home to family in the countryside.  Every family in my village has someone working in a city in order to make money for the family. &lt;br /&gt;            Today, I also went to file for a new Moroccan I.D., which means I had to go deal with my police.  I never know how this experience is going to go because we don’t have a common language.  It is really hard to get anything done when you can’t explain anything to each other.  I new I had to bring a special stamp and eight pictures with me because we had discussed these weeks ago, my Cart National has been expired for three months now.  Kind of a big deal but since I went to America I was given extra time because Americans are allowed to travel in Morocco for three months without a visa.  My extra time has now expired so it has come time to fix this. &lt;br /&gt;My encounter with the police started out friendly but then my police chief found out that my Cart National was stolen when my wallet was stolen.  Since I was in Essa when this happened my police did not know about this; yes both police stations have cell phones and landlines.  We got into a fight because I never told them about not having an ID, and I also was one stamp short and two pictures short.  After not eating all day I was not in the mood to walk around town to get the stamp or the pictures.  After a lot of yelling I just stood up and said good-bye because I was too tired to deal with it anymore.  By this point we had a Tashlheet interpreter and an English interpreter.  Once I decided to walk out on them, the police hired a guy on a motorbike to get me my stamp and pictures; it was an amazing response I did not expect.  The police were probably stunned because A WOMAN was yelling at them, Moroccans are so afraid of the police here.  But today a white American WOMEN did yelled, here me roar!  I was just too tired to keep it together. &lt;br /&gt;Now I am home I have eaten and life is good again.  I love spending time in my little house, alone.  I wonder how I am going to deal with not being alone most of the time when I get back to the states?  I am going to enjoy this time that I have because my life will never be like this again.&lt;br /&gt;Take care and Love&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;br /&gt;PS Tira Congratulations on you wedding and I wish I could be there.  I love you! Please send me picures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-1821329421085128128?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/1821329421085128128/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=1821329421085128128' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1821329421085128128'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1821329421085128128'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/09/ramadan-2009.html' title='Ramadan 2009'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-5860579288595846442</id><published>2009-08-15T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T09:18:46.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My Life is Cool!</title><content type='html'>Hello everyone, it has been along time since I have written you and I have decided I need to step up this blog thing.  Recently, I was talking to my friend Chelsey Paulson and she simply asked me what I did today and I realized this would be a good blog.  What did I do today…?  Well today, I woke up and decided that I needed a day to just be with Emmy and chill.  I have been reading a book by Jon Krakauer called Under the Banner of Heaven; this book is about Mormon extremists, who believe polygamy is a necessity.  I have realized religion in general uses many excuses to get masses of people to believe that it is Gods will to do crazy things.  Anyways, I spent my day reading this book.  I went to the store to get food for the day, which I have to meticulously time because the store I go to, only is open certain times of the day, never being the same times of day.  I bought eggs, two candy bars, a coke, and toothpaste.  Then I went to another store to get my bread to either make eggs on toast, a regular for me, or to make peanut butter and jelly toast. &lt;br /&gt;       Once I got home I settled into another couple of hours of committed reading.  I know it seems like I am being lazy over here in Morocco but sometimes we all just need these days.  I have the most amazing job where I am allowed to do this anytime.  Something I have realized is that us Moroccans definitely rest more but our lives are more strenuous when it comes to everyday living.  Every other day I haul water with a wheelbarrow and this takes me about an hour.  I use drastically less water here in Morocco than I do when I am in America.  If Americans had to haul their own water for their daily use we could never work forty hours a week.  I think we would also have fewer children because you also have to haul water for everyone in your family. Most people in my village have running water but it is inconsistent, when the water is out they haul water on the backs of donkeys, I am the only one that uses a wheelbarrow.  My water comes to me through a machine that makes this horrible noise while it is extracting water, so I have chosen to haul my own water because it is good exercise and it forces me out of my house. &lt;br /&gt;            Back to my day, around seven at night it finally cooled off enough for me to go for a run.  I have never been a runner but have taken on the activity since I have come to Morocco.  I love it because I release so much energy and it is a time for me to get my mind straight.  I also get to surprise Moroccans.  Nobody exercises here because everyday life for them is a workout; when I am running everyone gives me looks of curiosity and confusion.  I run around the same time I tend to see the same people now and I have created a team of cheerleaders.  People ask me in the taxi if I am going to run today and I have had many people ask me why would I ever want to do something like run.  A year ago I would have been asking the same question.   I love my runs because I get to see people herding sheep, today I passed a tractor, and I got to say hi to the grounds keeper at the primary school, he is one of my cheerleaders.&lt;br /&gt;            After my run I took a bucket bath, which entails me heating up water, that I hauled yesterday, then I sit in my shower room and bathe, there isn’t much to it but not something we do in America.  My life here is very simple and I am definetly going back to the basics of living, even though I have a computer, Bose radio, I pod, and DVD player.  I still feel like I am roughing it.  I love my house I am constantly outside.  There is a huge courtyard in the middle of my house so when it rains or the sunshine’s it is in my house.  I will miss being able to just look up and see the stars at night.  I am very grateful for this experience to live like most of the world lives.  Even though my house is much nicer than any of the other Moroccans in my village I am for the most part living they way they do. &lt;br /&gt;            Yesterday, I taught the girls at my neddy how to crochet.  They are very slow learners but I kept my cool.  By the end of the three-hour class they all had it down, some better than others.  We will see tomorrow what kinds of messes they have created.  My neddy has basically shut down because it is summer and it is hot but I retaining a couple of girls that come a couple times a week.  I have been using this down time to start working on my curriculum for teaching health lessons in the fall, after Ramadan.  I also am spending more time with my host family, eating with them and we also are working on the wheat harvest, and we crack argon nuts together.  I feel like a factory worker when I help them because the work is so tedious, but now I know that being a factory worker is boring. &lt;br /&gt;            I am trying to carpe diem everyday and have a great next ten months.  This experience is not forever and I will probably never live my life like this again.  I will miss eating with adults on the floor, I will miss my two host sisters, I will miss my alone time, I will miss the slow lifestyle here, I will miss my taxi drivers, I will miss hauling water and doing laundry by hand.  For right now I am going to try to appreciate everyday that I have left here and learn everything that I can.&lt;br /&gt;I miss you all tremendously and love you&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-5860579288595846442?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/5860579288595846442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=5860579288595846442' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/5860579288595846442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/5860579288595846442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-life-is-cool.html' title='My Life is Cool!'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-7473281969568368913</id><published>2009-07-14T04:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T04:08:36.401-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>It has been awhile so I will update you on the last month of my life.  Since I got home from America life has been busy and full of adjustment.  Once I got home I had to adjust to the fact that my friend Amy was gone now and I needed to figure out how to live here without my best friend.  My Peace Corps service has been filled with adjustments and I have made the decision no matter what comes my way to deal with it and grow because going home is not an option for me.&lt;br /&gt;            On a brighter note a couple of weeks ago there was a huge music festival in Essaouira and my province mates and I organized an alliance with a local AIDS organization.  During the festival we worked with them in getting people tested for AIDS.  We had about fifteen other volunteers helping us and successfully got around 500 people tested.  I also got to see the group Arrested Development perform.  I have never seen or heard of them before but they were good.  The festival was on the weekend after Michael Jackson died so they played Billy Jean and we all jammed.  I miss music so much especially going to festivals.  When I get home I am going to listen to as much live music as possible.  I spent a couple of extra days after the festival in Essa hanging out with my new friends from England and Canada.  I needed two days to decompress after hanging out with large groups of people for four days straight.  Team UK/Canada really helped me realize not to take life so seriously and live one day at a time.  Thank you Ollie, Matt, and Kory.&lt;br /&gt;            When I got home from the Festival I found out that my best Moroccan friend was getting married that day and leaving the next.  Khadjia is a twenty year old girl who a week before her wedding day she found out she was getting married.  The day she met her husband was the day she married him.  She was so happy and scared to be leaving home and moving to his house four hours away, which might as well be ten because she is rarely going to see her friends or family anymore, the people that she has seen everyday for her entire life.  I cried when I said good-bye and thanked America for giving me a life of education and choice.  I am so grateful to be from a country where girls are given the opportunity to choose if they want an education and to choose who their husbands are or if you even want to get married in the first place.  A week after the wedding I wonder how Khadjia is doing.  I know she is a great wife and making sure she is fulfilling all her duties that are expected of her.  I know she is probably pregnant by now.  Life here is so different but I hope that maybe Khadjia’s daughter will have more choices than her mother was given.&lt;br /&gt;      For the forth of July I went to my friend Audrey’s site with a bunch of other Peace Corps volunteers and we roasted hot dogs over a camp fire and went tubing down the river.  We tried to keep it as American as possible.  I still missed playing BINGO and riding on the double Ferris wheel.  I missed the fireworks on the lake but I got to eat smores and be with friends and that is the most important part of the Forth. &lt;br /&gt;            After the Forth I went to another volunteers house for about a week to chill and hang out in the most beautiful site in Morocco.  Doug’s site is very interesting because it is always changing, he can leave for a week and a new road will be built. It is so interesting to watch development in action.  When Doug got to his site he didn’t have cell phone reception but now he does and hopefully someday soon he will have electricity.  One day Doug and I went hiking to pick up some rugs and it ended up being quit the adventure.  The rug place was closed so we had to hike up to the women’s house that had the keys.  We never found the lady with the key but we did find a midget that served us tea and for some reason had the keys.   He biked down the hill and opened up the store and was a great salesman. Doug and I ended up getting some rugs and then had a nice hike home.  Everyday that I was in Ait Bouali I realized how great my life is here.  I am starting to feel like my time in Morocco is going by too fast and I have so much to accomplish still.  Good thing I thrive under pressure and will get everything done. &lt;br /&gt;            I am home now and getting used to my site again and being forced to push myself.  Everyday it gets easier and since tomorrow is market day so I will be busy shopping for beans, vegetables, and Tide.  Then I will be going to my neddy to teach English and afterwards I will go and have tea with one of the girls from my neddy.  I haven’t seen much of my neddy girls this summer because I have been so busy and they have not been coming to the neddy because in the summer nothing happens in Morocco.  After Ramadan everything will pick up again and be back to normal.  Until then I have two grants to write because I am trying to get the girls at my middle school beds so they don’t have to sleep on the floor anymore.  I am also trying to get computers for a school down the road.  I also got a great idea to teach the girls at my neddy how to crochet bags that we can sell so they can have personal money.  Slowly but surely I will get work done in this country.  The developing world is so slow.  I almost forgot this week I am working at a kid’s camp that my friend Tim is putting together.  I will be in charge of crafts and donkey races.  I am so excited to see the donkey races and will be sure to tell you all about them.  Until next time I will miss you all and think of you frequently.  I am doing great here in Morocco and trying to learn as much as I can.&lt;br /&gt;Peace,&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-7473281969568368913?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/7473281969568368913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=7473281969568368913' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7473281969568368913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7473281969568368913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/07/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-1478384417271343929</id><published>2009-06-14T14:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-14T14:38:48.393-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Where is my Wallet!!!!</title><content type='html'>When I first got back life was great because I was surrounded by all my Peace Corps friends and we went on a vacation to Chefchouen.  I was still surrounded by people and snacks.  Now I am back at my site and life is hard again.  Getting back into the swing of things is not going smoothly. I had my wallet stolen today which is a major set back.  I have been pushing myself to "except the things I cannot change."  I will get back on this horse and start loving it here again but with only fifty durhams in my pocket and no food in my fridge it is hard.  I could say I am not sending this blog out for people to feel sorry for me but that would be a lie.  I need support right now.  I know I am going to be ok and life will go on without a debit card but HUH.  Tomorrow I am going to file a police report and I will talk to Peace Corps to find out what the next step is but since this happened on a Sunday there is little news today.  If any of you out there believe in God please start praying that the police will find my wallet.  I don't even care if the money is gone I just need my identity back.  I hate how important a little 3 by 5 piece of leather is.&lt;div&gt;I love you all and I will be more positive next time I log on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emmy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-1478384417271343929?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/1478384417271343929/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=1478384417271343929' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1478384417271343929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1478384417271343929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/06/where-is-my-wallet.html' title='Where is my Wallet!!!!'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-1311496612402778640</id><published>2009-06-01T10:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T10:15:37.354-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to Morocco</title><content type='html'>I am about to get on the plane to go back to Morocco and this week has been jam packed with fun.  I started the week by wake boarding and ended the week with finally getting to rest and watching tv, Go Red Wings!  I saw so many people since I have been home and it has been amazing.  I also spoke to three different classes about my experience in Morocco, which helped me realize what I am doing is amazing.  I am so tired but I want everyone to know that I love them and thank you for such a great time.  I will let you all know when I arrive safely in Morocco.&lt;br /&gt;Love Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-1311496612402778640?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/1311496612402778640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=1311496612402778640' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1311496612402778640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/1311496612402778640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/06/back-to-morocco.html' title='Back to Morocco'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-2115485586133675594</id><published>2009-05-18T05:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T05:45:24.168-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='d'/><title type='text'>Life has Changed</title><content type='html'>The kittens are dead now because my mama cat was too sick to feed them.  Leo didn't kill them, I did.  I couldn't take their crying anymore and they wouldn't eat anything so I had some girls throw them in the dry riverbed.  Then the next day I took my cat to the vet and he said she was healthy except for the fact that she had worms.  I gave Georgie the meds and she seemed to be doing fine but the next day I watched her die a painful death.  More than anything I wanted to take away her missery, but the butcher refused to chop her head off.  So we just waited for God to do His thing.  After Georgie died I was hell bent on burrying her in my courtyard but the girls at my neddy told me my house would smell for months.  I ignored them and when it came time to dig the hole it was impossible because the ground was so pouris.  Then I just threw her over the wall of my house and she is resting in peace in a grassy patch.  From time to time I do smell her though, but I will admit I kind of like it.  That putrid smell reminds that she is still watching over me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the next week my closest Peace Corps friend, Amy, decided to quit.  This hit me like a ton of bricks.  I knew it was inevitable but that doesn't take away from my saddness.  I have had a rough couple of weeks but I have great friends that have been watching over me and keeping me entertained.  I will be going home in a week so it is time for me to be a super volunteer and tea it up.  I also have my toothbrushing project going on and the neddy girls to teach English to.  Peace Corps is pushing me to become the person that I want to be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am super excited to see everyone that is in the Minneapolis area.  I will be home from May 24th to June 1st.  Please call me, I still have my old cell number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;T-12 Days until Chelsey Crotty becomes Mrs. Chelsey Paulsen!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Congrats, I can't wait to see you dressed in white. I love you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-2115485586133675594?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/2115485586133675594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=2115485586133675594' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2115485586133675594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/2115485586133675594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/05/life-has-changed.html' title='Life has Changed'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-426632001530563656</id><published>2009-04-27T05:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-27T05:44:13.722-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My LIFE</title><content type='html'>This past week was a great one because...I started my toothbrushing project.  I taught fifteen kids for three days in a row the importance of brushing our teeth.  This week I will have two more groups of kids and by the end of the school year hopefully all the kids in my madrasa will have toothbrushes; and use them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also found my cats they were hidden in my guitar case!  I really didnt like the idea of having a cat that would eat her young. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you all but gotta go&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;br /&gt;Life is good!  I will be coming home soon and I am super excited.  There is a Twins game one of the nights I am home and I am going to eat twelve Dome Dogs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-426632001530563656?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/426632001530563656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=426632001530563656' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/426632001530563656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/426632001530563656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/04/my-life.html' title='My LIFE'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-6822079976919799273</id><published>2009-04-19T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-19T05:54:05.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Panicked</title><content type='html'>This is one of the most interesting things that has happened to me in Peace Corps, or for my entire life for that matter.  So a week ago I came home from bringing my friend Nicolet to the airport and come to find out my cat Georgie had given birth to three kittens. I discovered this while I was talking to my friend Moira on the phone.  I just got done commenting on how much skinnier Georgie was looking, trying to convince myself that she must have had gas all along.  But, no I was on my bed with my hand under the covers trying to get Georgie to come to me, as I felt a little string like thing under my hand.  Moira convinced me I had to look under the sheets and when I did I started yelling “Babies! Babies! Babies in my BED!” Once I calmed down I had to move the kittens from my bed to a new home because I was not going to tolerate sleeping on the floor for weeks. &lt;br /&gt;            The past week I have been getting used to the idea of these kittens in my life.  As some of you know I am afraid of animals so it takes me a long time to warm up to new creatures in my house.  I was doing well convincing myself that this was easy and not that big of a deal. Then Georgie got the great idea that she would start carrying the kittens into my bed while I was sleeping.  This did not make me happy.  I would wake up in the night and freak out having a mild anxiety attack because this little KITTEN was roaming around under my sheets.  I decided to give Georgie three strikes, because that is the golden rule.  In one night Georgie got two strikes, it took everything inside of me to not kick her out then.  But, I stayed strong to the rule and went to bed the next night with high hopes; she failed and got her third strike.  I then proceeded to putting the kitty bed in my salon that I never go in.  I also tied my door shut so Georgie couldn’t sneak in. &lt;br /&gt;            The next day I left for Essa, before leaving I checked on Georgie and the kittens and all seemed well.  Upon my return the kittens were gone.  Mind you these creatures have only been living for a week now.  Their eyes aren’t even open, they have no way of climbing over the bed I have created for them, and they spend most of their day suckling.  BUT!  The kittens are gone!  I have looked everywhere in my house. Yes I looked in my bed three times, yes I looked in all of the cupboards, and yes I circled my house multiple times. No kittens.&lt;br /&gt;            I told some of the people in my village and they all believe that Georgie has eaten three kittens.  After discussing this with some knowledgeable cat people we believe Georgie has not in fact eaten the kittens, there just isn’t any evidence of this happening.  Does this mean that she carried three kittens individually up my orange tree and put them somewhere else? I cannot find these kittens anywhere?!?!  In conclusion I must say this, why am I scared of animals; because you can’t ask them questions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-6822079976919799273?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/6822079976919799273/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=6822079976919799273' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6822079976919799273'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6822079976919799273'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/04/panicked.html' title='Panicked'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-474650775935734235</id><published>2009-04-02T13:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T13:55:46.381-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nicolet Visits!!!</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday my friend Nicolet came to visit and it was such a blast.  We bargained in Marakesh for belts and purses and bags.  I was so fun to use my language to bargain for her.  Then we headed to Essaouira where we chilled.  It was a much needed chill session after a big night on the town in Marakesh the night before.  Nicolet got sick on the bus but she recovered and the rest of our trip was great.  I was so happy to have someone I love from my past life to see my current life.  One day I brought her to my site for a couple of hours and everyone was so excited to see her and she was super overwhelmed and couldnt believe that I live like I do.  We had such a great time together and got to sit and talk for hours and hours.  I miss her already. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After I dropped her off at the airport I proceeded to travel to Rabat and then Azilal, where I talked to all the new volunteers about stress management.  The new volunteers had so many questions, it was fun to be the expert.  I also got to witness my growth that I have made in the last year.  I talked to the new volunteers without being nervous and I just got to be me.  A year ago this would not have been possible.  I also got to look back and see that I am no longer in the dark about this experience.  I know what Peace Corps is all about now and I feel comfortable about my service here.  I have never been this happy and this stable before in my life.  I have always had a great life but now I am happy and I am working for change.  I love my life. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be in Azilal for a couple more days visiting my friend Audrey and then I am finally headed home on Monday to stay in my site for a long time because I have been so busy this past month.  I cant wait and I miss my home.  Plus my cat, Georgie, is pregnant so I need to go home and take care of that situation.  Huh, I wish I would have trusted my instincts and got her fixed but now I have another adventure on my hands with some kittens on the way.  Lesson learned I should have listened to Bob Hope when he says Dont forget to have your pets spayed and neutered.&lt;br /&gt;Oh well....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you all&lt;br /&gt;Emmy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-474650775935734235?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/474650775935734235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=474650775935734235' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/474650775935734235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/474650775935734235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/04/nicolet-visits.html' title='Nicolet Visits!!!'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-6675487093322165215</id><published>2009-03-20T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T05:06:30.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Camping</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I just went on the most amazing camping trip, me and four other Peace Corps volunteers hiked from my house to the beach.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We left around two on Sunday and hiked the entire day until sunset.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was so beautiful because all of the mountains are now covered in wheat fields, red poppies, and argon trees. &lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;At some points we were even hiking in sand even though we were miles away from the beach and up in the mountains.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once we were at camp we made macaroni and cheese from scratch over a campfire; it has been over a year since I have sat next to a fire.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;After dinner we laid out our sleeping bags and stared at the stars for hours.                              &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The next day we hiked all day long and it was hot but nice. Two of the people that went with me camping are environment volunteers, Amy and Ben, and they both know a lot about nature.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Like Ben for example would stop to take pictures of every plant or dung beetle he saw.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess dung beetles get their name because they climb into cow pies and roll balls out of the poop and then lay their larvae in the dung.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We observed a lot of dung beetle rolling action.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also learned a lot about animal tracks from my friend Amy.                                                            &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;We ended up taking a taxi to the beach because it was just too far to hike to, so once we got to the road we went to town and had a Coke break and hauled ourselves a cab to a small town called Tadfna, which is a small beach town not found in guide books.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is one of the most remote beautiful beaches that I have ever been to, and we camped there that night.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In Tadfna we met this Australian couple that was living out of a VW van and has traveled all over the world.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so excited because I’ve never met anyone who really lived in a VW van; I have only heard stories of these kinds of people.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so inspired by them because they were following their dreams.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We even got to ride in the VW van back to Smimou, so for fifteen minutes I got to live out one of my dreams too.                                                                                                         &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;The camping trip was so much fun because all of the people I went with were laid back and we could take breaks whenever we wanted to. The sun became our clock and we woke up when we felt like it and stopped when the sun was about to set.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For three days we totally lost track of time.                                                                                                                                                            &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;I have been home for a day and tomorrow morning I am going to go and stay at my friend Ben and Carrie’s house, which are also Peace Corps volunteers.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is a festival going on in their site this week and we are going to do HIV/Aids education.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am super excited because I will be working! And at this festival Moroccans ride around on horses and shoot guns in the air.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have never been to a Moussem before so I don’t have the details yet but horses and guns are both a rarity in Morocco, so it should be interesting.                                                                  &lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;My friend Nicolet is coming to visit me next week, my first visitor!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am super excited for someone to see my life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I hope that Nicolet has a good time and isn’t too shocked by my life.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I love it here so I am sure she will too.                                                                                                    Life is GREAT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Love &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"&gt;Emmy &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-6675487093322165215?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/6675487093322165215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=6675487093322165215' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6675487093322165215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/6675487093322165215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/03/camping.html' title='Camping'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-551299582324060669</id><published>2009-02-24T04:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T04:22:55.435-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sick Chicken</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Last week I was sick on the toilet and it was horrible.  When you are sick away from your mom it reminds you how much you love and appreciate her.  I am getting better though and I think the antibiotics killed the bugs crawling around in my stomach.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Life is still great though and I am trying to get back on the horse because before I got sick I had a good schedule for myself but now everything has been thrown out of wack.  I am now on a wild goose chase trying to get permission to teach in the schools and it is proving to be a daunting task.  I came into Essa on Thursday and now I am back today and have to come back again on Thursday.  I might kill someone by the end of this journey, AHHHH!  But I guess it is all apart of being in the peace corps.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I am feeling good about my service and excited that I am in the Peace Corps.  I miss you all terribly but I know I am where I am meant to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emmy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You are in my thoughts and keep me in yours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-551299582324060669?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/551299582324060669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=551299582324060669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/551299582324060669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/551299582324060669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/02/sick-chicken.html' title='Sick Chicken'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091450346838189834.post-7940894991215882750</id><published>2009-02-15T06:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T06:32:42.675-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just another magic Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Today is a day that I don’t want to forget so I am going to tell you about it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I woke up this morning and went to my neddy because I was told that we were having a big meeting today, on what I was not told.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I waited outside with the girls from my neddy for about two hours while we waited for all the big shots of my town to show up.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once all the men came they had tea and chatted while the women, including myself, watched.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was so hungry and all the snacks looked so good.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I got to experience what it is like to be a women in a developing country, did you know that 2/3 of the worlds impoverished are women.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Most women in developing countries eat after the men and are given their leftovers.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today we weren’t even given the leftovers but as my friend Moira reminded me, that it is normal and I should have expected that.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But, I was so hungry. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;Anyways, enough about my hunger and onto the important part, the meeting was to get funding from the government for the neddy (young women’s cooperative).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was interesting to observe a formal meeting Moroccan style.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In order for women to be given some kind of respect from men here they have to be obnoxiously aggressive and controlling.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Hafida, the lady who runs the neddy always gets on my nerves because she is so demanding but I refuse to let her boss me around like she does to all the girls.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today I understood why she acts this way it is because this is how she is forced to act in order to get men’s attention and gain some sort of respect. After I realized this about Hafida I thought about all of the powerful women in my community and they all share this quality of control and power to an excessive level.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;All three of these women I don’t particularly like.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The point here is not that powerful Moroccan women are annoying the point is that in order to be respected by men in Morocco you have to over assert yourself to be heard.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Today I turned over a new leaf and decided that I now have respect for these three women because they are the ones that are going to create freedoms for normal Moroccan women who are scared or unwilling to go the extra step to have their voices heard.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I am also proud to be an American woman where I am viewed to be as valuable as a man.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;I haven’t had a moment to myself today, after the five hour meeting of watching men eat, three Frenchies came over to interview me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They happened to be in town today and they are journalism students in France taking a course on development and journalism.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are doing a project on Moroccan culture and they wanted to get my opinions.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was fun to pretend like I was an expert and an academic.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;It was really cool to because they seemed to be really impressed by what I had to say and what I am doing here.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I needed a day like today to realize why I am in Morocco.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Two of the Frenchies were Moroccan but grew up in France and their Moroccan families are from cities.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I got to educate them on countryside Moroccans and how they are so different from each other and know so little about each other they might as well be from different counties.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is interesting that today I taught a Moroccan about Morocco.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also realized that one of my big jobs here is to just be here and be a strong women so the girls at my neddy can learn from me to stand up for themselves and be more independent. Maybe my influence will make it so one of my neddy girls sends her daughter to high school or university!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;This week has had its ups and downs all of the projects that I am trying to work on have started giving me problems.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;For example, I am all ready to start teaching my tooth brushing lessons but I talked to the principle and he informed me that I need to get permission from the ministry of education before I can teach.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I knew this already but asked the principle earlier in the year if I needed it and he said don’t worry about it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It is up to the principle if he wants to require me to have this permission or not, and my principle has unexpectedly changed his mind, huh.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;So tomorrow I am going to go and try for the third time to get this piece of permission.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just want to teach God damn it!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then I am also trying to do this video project and I am waiting on a cord that my brother Sachel sent to me four weeks ago, I am trying to stay positive that it will come but to be honest I am starting to worry; it will come.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I just want to start doing projects God damn it!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;But the week ended with me learning some lessons and I know my projects will start soon enough.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I also need to remember that my biggest project started the day I arrived in Morocco and that is just me being me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-tab-count:1"&gt;            &lt;/span&gt;This weekend I am going to a meeting near Marrakesh and I am super excited because I am going to get some ideas for my video project.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I have also been in my site for three weeks straight and I need a break.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;People have been knocking on my door none stop today but all in all I love it here.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I am about to enter into my second year here in Morocco I am super excited because life here is finally starting to make sense.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Love you all,&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Emmy&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Come visit me!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4091450346838189834-7940894991215882750?l=emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/feeds/7940894991215882750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4091450346838189834&amp;postID=7940894991215882750' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7940894991215882750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4091450346838189834/posts/default/7940894991215882750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://emmy-operationmorocco.blogspot.com/2009/02/just-another-magic-thursday.html' title='Just another magic Thursday'/><author><name>Emmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12284169839094849345</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='18' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_PKmVwq2_9dE/R9VA_Dpy4rI/AAAAAAAAAAs/2FEc4q99n-U/S220/emmy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
