New House and PPST

Since my last blog post a lot has happened. January 28, the day that I will always remember. It is the day I finally moved into my house. My program manager came to visit me and made my day. First, he cleared everything up with my house and even took me to the nearby town to buy a mattress so I could move in that day. Not only did he settle everything with my house he also brought me 11 reams of paper, 2 Snicker’s bars, and my own Peace Corps bicycle (helmet included). As he was driving me back to my town he asked me who my best friend in Peace Corps was, I immediately answered it was him (he had made my day after all) and he laughed. It wasn’t until a few days later that I figured out what an impact that statement would make.

Two days later, I left for Post Pre-Service Training (PPST) up in the mountains. It was a long day taking a grand taxi, city bus, petit taxi, train, another petit taxi, and another grand taxi to finally arrive at the Auberge. I was so happy to finally get there and see everyone again. The first person I saw was our Country Director. He first greeted me and then asked me about my visit from my programming manager, telling me that I made his day by calling him my best friend. Yes, the story did go around the Peace Corps office.

Despite returning to a rigorous schedule again for two weeks, I can’t say that I didn’t have fun at PPST. Waking up to be at sessions at 8:30am was rough but it didn’t stop us from staying up all night playing various games. Ever seen 2 boys try to eat 21 eggs each-it happened at PPST. Ever watch the Super bowl in Italian with no commercials-it happened at PPST. Also included were dance parties, movie nights, singing camp songs, lots of icebreakers and swapping hard drives. We did a bunch of Peace Corps stuff too starting the week with an LPI (Language Proficiency Interview-which I improved my score from the last time I took it), setting goals, planning projects, tutoring, and learning about spring and summer camps.

After returning from PPST, I went to my Gendarms (like county sheriffs) just to check in and tell them I made it back to town safely. Guess what was waiting for me, my Moroccan identity card! I am now officially a resident of Morocco (well I was before but now I have the official card to prove it). After making a photocopy of my card and bringing it back to the Gendarms, I walked through town and realized how much I missed it. It really does feel like home. I went to my host families house to tell them I was back and was greeted with hugs and “I missed you’s”. Then I ran into some of my students on the street who were all glad to see me. It’s nice to be home.