so, i'm testing the limits of my brain right now...

I'm listening to This American Life (NPR podcasts are a Godsend) while typing this and hoping my brain doesn't explode. I haven't interacted face to face with an English speaker in seven days. It's been a Tash and French heavy week for me. Mostly Tash. French when times are desperate. My Tash may be getting better. Maybe. My host father commented that I know "a little" Tashelheet at dinner last night. That's a good sign, yeah? Anyhow, whatever the case may be with my Tashelheet, my English is going down the tubes at an alarming rate. I grasp for words that sometimes never come. I've only been at site for three weeks. It's already funny what's happening to my English abilities. It may get a lot funnier. It may get scary. It may get ugly.

Life is...moving along. I've been going down to the sbitar every morning, getting to know the staff. There's a midwife named Aicha (my counterpart), two nurses, Ali and Brahim, a head nurse named Tawfiq, and the doctor's name is Asma. She's not there all the time so I haven't interacted with her much, but the others have been great. They teach me new phrases everyday and we end up laughing quite a bit. When there are patients to be seen, I sit in the waiting room and attempt to speak with people. Sometimes I just greet them, Sometimes I stare at my feet. The main point of my going there is so that the people in my community will begin to associate me with the sbitar and will recognize me as a health worker. That's the stated goal, at least. Whether or not that will be the result is yet to be seen.

In the afternoons and evenings, I try to get outside and sit with some of the women who live near me. I watch the kids play, sometimes I join them. I kicked a kid in the hand the other day, which, incidentally, was not part of the plan. I carry on really incredibly basic conversations that usually have to do with the weather, Morocco being pretty, and me stating that I'm going for a walk. I make a lot of confused faces and say "oor fhmh" ("I don't understand) on a fairly regular basis. My community is pretty big, so it feels a bit overwhelming to have so many people out there to meet and to eventually get to know. I'm getting a little more comfortable everyday, but it does take a lot of energy to put myself out there over and over and over. It can be frustrating, especially when people compare my demeanor or activities or language abilities to those of the volunteer I replaced. Overall, though, I have some lovely people around me and the area is beautiful, so I know a lot of what I'm feeling is a result of having been in a totally new place with totally new people for only three weeks. It's not the easiest thing in the world. It's certainly not the hardest, though. And of course when I really need an escape, there's always my room and my computer where I can watch The Office or Arrested Development or FRIENDS, any number of movies, or listen to the week's offerings of my beloved NPR podcasts. My room is my haven. An unventilated one that's too close to the living room, but a haven nonetheless.

I went to a wedding in Agadir last weekend with my host parents. We got there at three in the afternoon and left at nine the next morning. I drank tea at 1:30 in the morning, ate a meal at three and at five shared a sleeping cushion with an old lady that I don't know. Quite different from the last wedding I attended back home.

And for the record, I had to resume typing this after This American Life was finished. My brain was, in fact, about to explode.