2/19/10 Early COS? What’s up with that?

So you’ve referred a couple of times to “Early COS”. What’s the deal? Doesn’t everybody serve 27 solid months, unless they ET or get AdSep’d or MedSep’d?

PCVs are expected to honor their full 27-month commitment, this is true. But under special circumstances, the Country Director might choose to grant “Early COS” status. (COS = Close of Service – finishing your service as a Peace Corps Volunteer)

This is different from ETing. You can ET at any time, for any reason. But ETers don’t get all the benefits of finishing their service. Early COSers do.

There are two categories of Early COS: 30 Days Early and 31-90 Days Early.

30 Days Early COS

Discuss your plans with your Program Staff. Submit a written request 90 days before your scheduled COS date outlining *exactly* how all your projects will be completed by your requested COS date. If your Program Manager approves the request, he/she will forward it to the Country Director. If the Country Director approves, you’re done.

31-90 Days Early COS

This is a much bigger deal, and much, much less frequently granted. You have to do everything as above, PLUS:

If the Country Director approves your request, it’s forwarded to the Regional Director. If he/she approves, it’s forwarded to Peace Corps Washington. If *they* approve it, then you’re good to go.

How often is Early COS granted?

Personally, I’ve never heard of anyone getting to COS more than 30 days early. But 4 people from my stage will be COSing two to four weeks before May 19th, when the rest of us (inshallah) will Stamp Out.

2/17/10 Peace Corps Health Care

While you’re a PCV, all health care costs are fully covered. Medications for pre-existing conditions [as long as you have it documented on your Peace Corps application!], visits to PCMO or any other doctor/dentist in the country (as long as PCMO OK’s it first), even airfare back to the US if you need to be MedEvac’d – whatever. It’s all covered during your service.

The fine print, according to the official paperwork:

A comprehensive immunization, prevention, and health maintenance program. Health support in country, including all necessary care for new conditions and accepted pre-existing conditions that are exacerbated or aggravated by Peace Corps service. [Footnote: Peace Corps provides initial care for all medical cnditions. Trainees or Volunteers with pre-existing conditions not disclosed to Peace Corps as part of medical clearance process are subject to medical or administrative separation. FECA benefits may not be available for these conditions.]

Emergency medical services anywhere in the world at any time.

Short term care for diagnosis and stabilization prior to medical separation when the Volunteer will be unable to return to duty within 45 days of a medevac or when the condition can not be accommodated overseas.

But what happens after you COS?

There’s a two-fold answer.

1) For the first six months after COS (or after you’re MedSep’d or AdSep’d or ET):

Peace Corps Health Benefits Program AKA127c Care AKA Seven Corners AKA Humana Choice Care [because it’s provided through the Humana Choice care Network]

This covers evaluations, testing, and lab work for Peace Corps related injuries/conditions, including dental, optical, counseling… The idea here is that any lingering issues that were caused by your service are covered just as fully as if you were still in-country.

The catch: You really really really should get it diagnosed in-country. PCMO will give you a form – a 209B or 127c form – that says, in effect, “Yup, this happened here, and she needs continuing attention in the US.” Without a 127c, it can be bloody hard to get it paid for. Even crazy things like parasites and diseases that don’t even exist in America, if not diagnosed before your return, can be hard to get covered. The health care money folks whine, “But maybe you caught it after your return!” That’s why Peace Corps gives us a *thorough* medical during our last 90 days in-country, including final screenings for TB and AIDS and a few other nasties on our very last days in-country (aka “72-hour checkout”).

Be sure to bring your 127c form (or 209B) and your Peace Corps Health Benefits Program Insurance Card form. Note to newbies: You get this your very firstest day in-country. DON’T LOSE IT. It’s a little piece of paper, not even laminated, but if you lose it… I keep mine with my passport.

Contact info for PCHBP:

1-800-544-1802

P.O. Box 3370 Carmel, IN 46082-3370

www.peacecorps.sevencorners.com

But this only covers evaluations. The fine print:

PC-127C Authorization: Evaluation only of medical and dental health conditions related to Volunteer service. Must be used within six months of close of service.

But wait, you say, only evaluation? What about, y’know, treatment?

That’s covered under Parts 2 and 3.

Part 2: FECA aka Workers’ Compensation aka Department of Labor Claim aka ACS

FECA = Federal Employee Compensation Act

Treatment and ongoing care for anything diagnosed in-country or at your 127c referral visit is covered by FECA, via the Department of Labor.

(What does Peace Corps have to do with the Department of Labor? Got me. Is this confusing you yet? Yeah, that’s why I’m writing it all out – this is for my reference as much as anything else. When a PCV buddy emails me in six months and says, “Hey, what did they tell us about health care stuff at COS conference?” and I’ll say, “Um, wait, there was the six month thing, the 18 month thing, and, um …” and then I’ll look here.)

Be sure to bring your Case File Number and your Acceptance Letter.

Contact info: Billing & Authorizations: 1-850-558-1818

www.dol.gov

http://owcp.dol.acs-inc.com

This covers ongoing treatment for whatever lingering medical concerns you have, forever…but the fine print says “contact the Post Service Unit for details”. So…maybe forever.

Fine print:

Treatment of most medical and dental conditions related to Volunteer service and conditions incurred or contracted while abroad during service are provided by FECA. Claims must be filed within 3 years of close of service or within 3 years of recognition that a health condition is service-related.

[[Note from me: My RPCV buddies tell me that this is the real sticking point. If it’s not diagnosed in-country, you have a wretched time trying to get them to “recognize” that it’s “service-related”.

Part 3: CorpsCare AKA Clements International AKA First Health [because it’s part of the First Health Network]

This is your post-Peace Corps health insurance, if you want it. Peace Corps will automatically pay for your first month. And that’s by the 30 days, not the calendar month. I COS on May 19^th, inshallah, so Peace Corps has paid my premium through June 19^th. If I want health insurance after that, I either have to find a plan on my own or continue paying for this one. If I stay with this one – as most of us do, at least for a few months – it’s $158/month [[as of February 2010. I’m really sure that this number will change.]] We get up to 18 months of coverage; after that, you’ll need to have a job or be in grad school or COBRA or something.

One neat thing – you can buy coverage before you COS, using your readjustment allowance money. Six months, nine months, whatever. And if you find a job with benefits before that time runs out, Peace Corps will cut you a check for the remaining months. In other words, don’t worry if you don’t have a bank account waiting for you back home. You can still afford your health insurance. :)

CorpsCare covers your pre-existing conditions, your non-service-related injuries/illnesses, regular well-woman / well-man visits, etc. Regular old health insurance.

You’ll get a CorpsCare Insurance card that you’ll need to bring with you to appointments.

Contact info: 1-800-605-2282

P.O. Box 863 Indianapolis, IN 46206

www.clements.com/corpscare

Fine Print: Non-service-related medical problems are covered by CorpsCare. Specifically:

* Most pre-existing conditions not covered by FECA;

* Conditions that arose that are not covered by FECA, e.g., while in the U.S. on vacation, home leave, emergency leave, or medevac;

* Health problems that arose after Volunteer service.

Peace Corps pays one month’s premium for all Volunteers. Volunteers may purchase up to 18 months of additional coverage.

Important Note: Both FECA and CorpsCare are under the general auspices of the “Post-Service Unit”, aka the folks in PC/Washington responsible for taking care of RPCVs. Their contact info: 1111 20^th St, NW 5^th Floor Washington, DC 20526

1-800-424-8580 x 1540 option 7

Fax: 202-692-1541

psu - at - peacecorps - dot - gov

…and that’s a division of the Returned Volunteer Services, Office of Domestic Programs. Same street address,.

Phone: 202-692-1430

rvs - at - peacecorps - dot - gov

www.peacecorps.gov/rpcv

You’d think this info would be on the Peace Corps website, but most of it isn’t. Which is why your friendly wide-eyed innocent is typing it all up for you. :)

* RPCVs = Returned Peace Corps Volunteers. What they call us after we COS. “Peace Corps Veterans” works for me, but the acronym would be confusing. :)

10/22 Leaving Peace Corps ... The Rest of the Story

Sha-Hal aya (A long time ago), I wrote about the four ways by which Volunteers can leave Peace Corps service. In order of frequency: COS, MedSep, ET, AdSep. (All are used as both verbs and nouns.)

But when I wrote it, it was mostly theoretical information. I had one friend who had ET'd, two or three who had been MedSep'd, and none yet who had COS'd.

From where I'm sitting now, about 3/4 through my service, I feel like there's more information I need to share.

When you and Peace Corps finish with each other, it can be abrupt.

Almost painfully abrupt.

This is not so true for COSers, who get to attend their COS Conference when they have 3 months let, then COS Medicals when they're about a month and a half out, and then have a final three days together in Rabat for their "72-Hour Checkout". Three months is enough time to prepare yourself to leave, both logistically and emotionally.

But if your service ends early - due to an ET, MedSep, or AdSep - you don't get a nice, gradual, phased departure.

You get streeted.

It seems most violent in the case of a Medical Separation. Most MedSeps start as "MedEvacs". Peace Corps will fly you to Western Medicine (usually in DC, but sometimes in Europe) and call it a Medical Evacuation. As long as they can get you shipshape and ready for service in less than 45 days, they'll fly you back to your country and your service continues. If you need more than 45 days, they just make a notation in the paperwork, and suddenly your MedEvac is a de facto MedSep. Your service is over.

And once it's over, Peace Corps washes its hands of you. Safi, see ya, sayonara...buh-bye.

One friend of mine, who found himself MedSepped outside a DC hospital, said that if he hadn't had his American ATM card (because our in-country assets aren't available internationally) and/or friends in DC, he'd have been at a total loss. As it was, he pulled funds from his pre-Peace Corps account and got a taxi over to a friend's apartment. Everything he owned was in his parents' house a thousand miles away or in a small mud house on the other side of the Atlantic. A house which, by the way, Peace Corps would no longer pay rent on. They do have funds to ship some of your things back to you - some - but you need to be in communication with whatever neighbor/PCV has your house key and is able to pack your things for you. If your village doesn't have cell phone coverage, let alone land lines or internet, this is a daunting task.

Volunteers who choose to end their service early - Early Termination, or ET-ing - don't have quite as shocking an experience, since it was their decision to go, but still, the timeline between informing the Country Director of your choice and when you fly out of Casablanca...is short. Usually 5 business days. In which you have to pack everything you're taking to America and everything you're returning to Peace Corps (including unweildy items like bikes and library books and fully stocked medical kits), give away or sell everything else you have in-country, get signatures on various forms from your counterpart and delegue (whose office could be in your site or in the regional capital, 3-5 hours away), and still make it to PC Headquarters for your 72-hour check-out. (The 72 hours is non-negotiable: PCMO has to check you for tuberculosis, and the skin test can't be checked till the third day after the needle-stick.)

For someone who has made the decision to leave their service, their village, their PCV community, and everything else - never an easy decision - such an abrupt departure is often wrenching. You have little time to say goodbye to your friends or neighbors, and virtually no time to emotionally prepare yourself to leave your service country and return to the US.

Volunteers find themselves back in America, cut off from everyone they knew or saw for the past X months, with so little connection between their new lives and their old lives that their service quickly begins to feel like a dream.

I've heard this from so many RPCVs, regardless of how their service ended: there are no points of commonality between their service and their post-service life, nothing to form a bridge from one world to the other. Cut off from their past experiences, Volunteers struggle to hold onto their months and years of service. Their language skills fade away; their memories attain the shimmering implausibility of remembered dreams.

12/12 Religious Harassment

A friend recently asked (offline) if anyone ever attempts to convert me.

Here's my response:

I get urged to convert to Islam fairly frequently. My friends don't pressure me, though some of my Peace Corps buddies get ongoing pressure from their friends, but strangers often do. It's most commonly taxi drivers, interestingly - possibly because they know I'm trapped in their car, giving them a finite window with which to convert me?

I usually explain that I am Christian, and that's generally enough to stop the efforts. Mohammed required his followers to respect the fellow "People of The Book," the Jews and Christians. (Though the current situation in Israel/Palestine and the centuries of Crusading show that it hasn't always worked out so well.) Some keep going at that point. I explain that I follow the religion of my parents; given the respect-for-elders built into the culture here, that is sometimes enough. (Although once, that got the response, "Well then your parents are going to hell, too." I cut off the dialog at that point.)

I've tried saying, "There are many paths to God," but that usually blows up in my face - I've had people shout, "NO! There is only ONE PATH to Allah!" - so I don't use that one anymore. I'm perfectly willing to discuss religion, but if it gets angry or mean-spirited, I simply end the conversation, whether by walking away, turning away, or pretending not to understand anymore. (After the grand taxi driver told me my parents going to hell, I turned to face the window. The men crowded next to me waited a minute to see what my response would be, then turned to each other and said, "Oh, she doesn't understand Tamazight." I turned back to the man closest to me and said icily, "I understood every word. I'm done with this conversation.")

Technically, it's illegal to prosletyze in Morocco - in any direction - but that's only enforced against Christian missionaries. Also, technically, the Qur'an forbids compelling or coercing any conversion...but that doesn't seem to stop people. I can recite the sura that says, "There is no compulsion in Islam," in Classical Arabic, but that only works on the most educated people, who aren't the ones having this conversation with me. While scholars know that a compelled conversion is meaningless, the common person knows only that converting a nonbeliever wins them a guaranteed ride to heaven.

Sidenote: Even more meaningless is the inadvertent conversion. In order to become a Muslim, you have to recite, three times, in Classical Arabic, "There is no God but Allah, and Muhammed is his Prophet." Some uneducated folks believe that if they can simply trick me into saying this sentence three times, they get their ticket to heaven. I've had several people, usually children or teenagers, say, "Hey, repeat this:" expecting me not to know what it means. The first time it happened, I asked them what it meant. "It doesn't matter, just say it," I was told. This strikes me as the moral equivalent of offering someone a Communion wafer as snack food, and then telling them that they're Catholic now.

In Peace Corps, we talk about "religious harassment", in the same conversation with sexual harassment and political harassment ("Was Bush a good president? Do you think it's good to kill Iraqis? Do you support Israel?") Male PCVs tend to get more religious harassment than female PCVs, but we all get it, to varying degrees.

I think it's important to clarify that not all religious conversation is religious harassment. I like talking about religion, as long as it's in a mutually respectful way. Anyone who has had a Jehovah's Witness show up on their doorstep or got ambushed by a Hari Krishna at an airport has had an abrupt and unexpected conversation about religion. Some people hate it; others accept it as part of the human condition. "Harassment" is generally defined as unwelcome attention that makes the recipient uncomfortable. Note that it depends on the attitude of the recipient, not that of the instigator. In my opinion, when the conversation crosses the line to criticizing or belittling me, my faith, or my family, that's when it changes from talk to assault.

11/29/09 On Vegetarianism

"Ur da-ttagh aksum."

I don't eat meat.

I say this a lot.

How detailed my explanation becomes depends on the audience. Yesterday, speaking to a dear little old Berber lady, who's not only illiterate but probably didn't know anyone literate before her 60th birthday, I simply said, "I don't like meat." She responded, "But it's delicious!" I smiled - her entire face is mapped with smile lines, it's impossible not to love her on sight - and said, "Yes, delicious, but for me - myself - it's not good." My host mom was there, to chime in with her explanation that meat makes me violently ill (based on a misunderstanding last summer that I've never attempted to correct), and I let it go.

When I'm talking to people who have encountered other cultures and seem interested in hearing a nuanced discussion, I'm more likely to say something like, "In America, there are many vegetarians, for many different reasons. Me, I'm vegetarian because so much is wasted on animals. Animals need so much food and water and land; I want food and water and land to be used for people, not livestock. And here in Berberville, the sheep ate all the vegetation and now the mountains are naked, so they have to go far, far away to find grass - and we still grow more grasses in the fields, to feed them in the winter. I think that's a problem, so I don't eat meat."

I've been vegetarian since I was fifteen. And I'm the oldest Volunteer in my stage, so that tells you that it's been a while.

When I joined Peace Corps, my recruiter and I had a conversation about meat. He pointed out that in most Peace Corps countries, everyone who can afford to cooks meat as often as possible. Even if I were to limit myself to the vegetables served with the meal, they'd still have been cooked in the meat juices. He asked about the last time I'd had red meat. It was about six months prior, and resulted from my willingness to eat whatever I'm served when I'm in someone's home. The next day, I was sicker than I think I've ever been. It may have been a coincidence, or may have reflected that my body had gone so long without complex proteins that it viewed them as something foreign and toxic, and responded with the symptoms of extreme food poisoning. I told him something along those lines, and his advice was to re-introduce meat into my diet, a little at a time. I'd have enough challenges in starting life in a new country; I wouldn't need to worry about an inability to digest meat.

So ever since - and that was in May of 2007 - I've eaten meat every few weeks, give or take. I don't think I've gone a full month without meat since then, and I know a few times - like when I'm in the US, or when I'm in a city with great shwarma like Oujda or Essaouira - I've eaten meat up to half a dozen times in a week. Generally, it's every two to three weeks, but I don't think about it much.

I never eat meat with my host family or other Moroccan families, except on 3id al-Kebir, when I do it to show respect for the religious beliefs of my community. So I pretty much only dip a toe into the carnivorous lifestyle if PCV buddies and I go to one of the chicken houses in SouqTown or if I'm at another Volunteer's house, and they want to cook meat.

So I ate turkey at Thanksgiving (both Thanksgivings!), and meat-based chili when my PCV buddy Jamal made it - come to think of it, the last four times I ate red meat were when Jamal cooked it...hmmm - and have eaten shwarma in pretty much every major Moroccan city...but I still identify as vegetarian.

Which, I know, is inconsistent, and makes life harder for all the true vegetarians out there. (No, I really don't want meat. No, not even a little. Not even white meat. Not even fish. No, really, I *am* vegetarian. Really.)

But I like eating low on the food chain, and I know that all the animals in Morocco lead lives that a factory-farmed American animal could only ever dream of - the chickens run so free that I have to be careful not to step on them - so I'm OK with my compromise.

I eat enough meat that I don't have to be afraid of the meat-soaked potatoes and turnips I eat from Ama's tagine, but not enough to feel like a true omnivore.

So am I vegetarian? Not in any strict sense. But I identify with it for political and social and heck, even historical reasons (don't all my years of vegetarianism count for something?), and I'm OK with that.

Plus, I like not having to eat eyeball or brain or testicle - all of which are on the menu here. I eat intestine-wrapped organ meat once a year, and that's all the sheep I need. So I ate my half-dozen pieces of shishkebab'd sheep organs yesterday, will probably have the same again today (the 3id is a multi-day holiday), and then I'll get to return to saying Ur da-ttagh aksum.

10/28 Bled Bathing (aka Bucket Bathing)

(Quick reminder: bled is the Tam and Arabic word for rural areas. This entry is not about gore, it's about life in the country.)

You ever heard this old joke? An optimist looks at a glass and says, "It's half full!" A pessimist looks at the same glass and says, "It's half empty!" A Peace Corps Volunteer looks at it and says, "Ooh, a bath!"

Yesterday morning, I took a bath.

Took a bath.

Three short, one-syllable words. It sounds so simple. Hard to imagine that it was an hour-long endeavor...

It starts with water.

Lots of water.

So I have to bathe either while the water is still running, generally between 9 and noon, or else I have to fill a bucket or two with water in the morning, and then cover it (to keep out the ubiquitous dust) and set it aside until I'm ready to bathe, some other time of day.

I usually just stick to the morning.

I fill up my two trusty kettles, then put them on to boil. My stove has four burners, so when I first got here, I would use two kettles, a stew pot, and a couscous pot...but about four months ago, one of my burners turned into a flaming deathtrap, so I don't use that one anymore, plus I've come to realize that the tiny teapot burner really doesn't work well for anything but tea.

So: two burners, each with a big (3.5L - almost a gallon) tea kettle.

When the kettle whistles, I empty it into a hammam bucket. Hammam buckets differ from ordinary paint buckets: they're made of thick rubber, not plastic, to withstand boiling water. To keep the water hot, I put a ceramic plate on top of the bucket and then drape a towel over that. Then I fill the kettle again, heat it again...

Repeat until the bucket is full, about 5 kettles of water. Then I refill each kettle one last time, and put them on to boil. Then I carry the bucket into the bathroom, make sure all toiletries are arranged nearby, fill a banyo (plastic basin) with cold water, and finally get all the clean clothes I want to change into and hang them on the bathroom door, so the steam from the bath will warm them (and so I won't have to go out into my chilly apartment all wet!).

When the final two kettles-full hit the boiling point, I carry both kettles into the bathroom and set them on the ceramic tile.

I put a small plastic stool into my biggest basin, a shallow banyo about 2.5 feet across and 6" deep. Then I pull the door closed and begin.

Using a big heavy-plastic cup (with a handle - looks kind of like a big mug), I mix bathwater in a tiny banyo. My usual ratio at the beginning of a bath is 3 scoops of boiling water from the hammam bucket to 2 scoops of cold water from the bathroom banyo. By the end of the bath, maybe half an hour later, the formerly-boiling water will have cooled enough that I use a 3:1 ratio of hot:cold.

Once the warm-but-not-boiling water is sitting in the pan (tiny banyo) next to me, I sit down on the stool, cramming my feet in around the stool legs, and pour a scoop of warm water over my head.

Why sit down? It conserves body heat, for one, and lets the water hit more parts of me as it falls down, for another. The water that I scoop over my heat, to wet my hair, will either run the length of my back or slide forward over my shoulders and pool in my lap. When you're "showering" with about 7 gallons of water, getting the most out of every drop is key.

Why cram my feet in with me? I learned through trial and error that keeping my feet covered in warm water is vital to my feeling warm during the bath. After all, whenever I'm not actively pouring water over my head, I'm just sitting in a small ceramic room, wet and naked. It gets cold. But if my feet are sitting in warm water, I feel better. Also, my feet have a hard life here - lots of sandaled walking over dirt paths covered in various kinds of manure - so I think soaking them in sudsy water is a good idea.

Why am I in a banyo at all, instead of just letting the water pour onto the ceramic tile floor and run down the drain? The bathroom was built to be half-shower, after all. Because the shower drain doesn't actually drain, it just lets the water pool until it evaporates. Eeeew. Also, by catching the water in the banyo, I can reuse it for flushing the toilet. I live in a desert country; just because I'm in the rainiest part of it doesn't mean I have the right to waste water.

So I'm crunched down in this basin, scooping water over my head. It takes 4 slow scoops to get my shoulder-length hair wet through. Then I rub in shampoo. If it foams up, I know that I only need to shampoo it once. If it stays unfoamed, I know that this washing is doing nothing but stripping the outermost coat of oil, and I'll need to do it again. So I rinse my hair with another 2-3 scoops, then do it again. After that's rinsed out, my body is pretty thoroughly wetted (except for my arms, which will get their own scoop of water), so I grab the loofah sponge and shower gel and scrub down. I'll then rub shampoo/conditioner into my hair (a pure conditioner is overkill), then rinse everything at once.

This usually takes about 80% of the water, which I've been steadily mixing between the hammam bucket and the coldwater banyo to maintain a good water temperature. Once I'm pretty sure everything has been scrubbed and rinsed at least once, I'll finally let myself stand up. I double-check the backs of my knees and anything else I might have missed while crunched down, then pour the rest of the hot water over my head, for a final rinse (and just because I really love and miss hot showers).

When the water smrn (is all used up), I grab the towel, dry off, and put on the clothes that are all within arm's reach. Only when I'm warm, dry, and clothed, do I open the door of my now-steamy-warm bathroom and face my 45 degree apartment.

And just like that, I'm all clean.

I've never liked wasting water, but I do enjoy hot showers. Most mornings, in the US, it took 5-7 minutes. This bled bathing takes at least an hour, from the time I fill the first kettle of water until I'm all clean. Is it any wonder I only "shower" every week or so?

6/6/9 Peace Corps Housing

A few people have asked about my "mud hut".

OK.

I have a pretty zween house, compared to what I was expecting. Almost no mud. (Honestly, I'd prefer a mud house. My sitemate "Fatima" has a mud house, and it's a good 10-20 degrees warmer indoors throughout the winter. She never has to crack ice before using a bucket of water.)

If I lived in New York, I'd call it a "walk-up". It's actually fairly comparable to the layout I had when I was a grad student. (Except that those apartments had wood everywhere - building material, hardwood floors, woodframed windows, etc - and here it's only the internal doors...most of which are mis-hung, so many of my doors don't close well.)

You open the steel door, climb the mud-brick steps, and go into the apartment itself. You enter into a giant foyer/hallway/entry space that's nearly empty, because the skylight leaks like a sieve. (If the entry space isn't empty, it's because it's full of buckets/basins/pails to catch the water.) All the other rooms lead off from this space, and all (except the bathroom) are roughly the same size.

The smallest room is my bedroom. There's also a salon, which has ponges and a small table, as well as the kitchen. The whole place has enormously high ceilings - at least 10 feet - which is pretty common here in Morocco. (All Moroccan architecture is designed for the desert: high ceilings, flat roofs, maximum shade and minimum - which is to say nonexistent - insulation. Unfortunately, this doesn't work as well in the mountains... The lack of pitched roofs means that we have to shovel them off after every big snow. And the heat-minimizing features mean that they're comfy in the summers but iceboxes in winter.) My kitchen and bathroom both have a tap for running water, which is on 2-4 hours a day, so I fill up bottles and buckets to use for the other 20-22 hours per day.

Peace Corps Morocco just updated the housing guidelines, so here they are, for your information. I have no idea how this compares to housing in any other Peace Corps country, but it should give you an idea how we live...

PCV Housing Criteria

Typical housing contains one bedroom, one salon, and a small kitchen.

Housing must meet basic security and living standards for volunteer service. Basic security standards include such things as secure locks on doors and windows, clean latrine facilities, and an enclosed roof on living quarters. Ideally, your landlord is responsible for providing these things and this should be negotiated before you move in. However, if your landlord is unable or unwilling to provide basic security, please contact your PM to discuss with you how best to secure your house. This could include his/her negotiating with your landlord and/or Peace Corps providing you with resources to make necessary upgrades.

4/10 Peace Corps Applicant FAQs

I've been getting some offline questions from applicants, and I thought I'd share my answers with you all. If you have more questions, feel free to email me or post them in the comments section. :)

I've been nominated for Peace Corps and have been waiting nine months for my invitation. However, after completing the medical paperwork and being cleared, I'm beginning to worry ... what if my placement officer decides I'm not "highly qualified" and I don't get placed when they told me I would??

Take a deep breath. Getting nominated is hard. For some, getting medically cleared is harder. But if you've cleared those hurdles, it's just a matter of patience.

Two things to do to assuage your fears: (1) Visit your "toolkit" online and verify that you have, in fact, cleared all the hurdles. If any are outstanding (legal, dental, whatever), make a note of it. Then (2) call your placement officer. Ask about the outstanding issue, if there is one. If there isn't, say something about how happy you are to have been fully cleared, and how eager you are to be invited. Peace Corps staff are human. Sometimes they drop things between the cracks, and need to be reminded. Don't hound your PO night and day, but don't be afraid to call him/her, either. At the very least, your PO will be reminded of an eager nominee who's hungry for a posting.

Do you know if one could refuse vaccinations and still be accepted? Our family all have religious exemptions to vaccines.

You should definitely check with your recruiter - policy might have changed - but two years ago, when I was where you are now, that was not an option. That's why I had so very many vaccinations to go through: I'd never been vaccinated for *anything*, and suddenly I had to get them all at once. Hence the polio shot and "booster" shot only a few months apart. Blech. The clinic I went to almost refused me, because they don't usually give polio vaccinations to adults, but I explained to the RN why I needed it, and she went ahead and gave it to me.

As I understand it, exemptions only apply to legally required vaccinations. Nobody is requiring you to join Peace Corps, so the religious protections don't apply. I grew up under the umbrella of religious exemptions, too, so a big part of my decision to join Peace Corps was deciding to let myself get stuck full of needles. I haven't regretted it. When Henry IV was told he'd have to convert to Catholicism to assume the throne of France, he said, "Paris is well worth a Mass." I'd say, "Peace Corps is well worth
some shots." :)

Where are most PCVs in Morocco sent?

Depends on your sector. YD volunteers are in medium-to-largish cities. If you're in YD, you'll be speaking Darija in a town of at least 25,000, with guaranteed 24/7 electricity, running water, etc. You'll almost certainly have internet at home, a hot water heater, a fridge, and all the other amenities of Posh Corps. If you're in Health or Environment, you'll probably be in rural regions, likely in the mountains, since those are the regions still in need of Health and Environment support. If you're in SBD, anything is possible. SBD is trying hard to reach out to the rural co-operatives, so some Volunteers are put in some pretty rural areas, but others share YD sites, with all the amenities at their fingertips.

I've read that Moroccan Arabic is almost unintelligible to most Arabic speakers. Do Moroccan volunteers get to learn much Classical Arabic? French?

Yes, Moroccan Arabic (Darija) *is* very different from Modern Standard Arabic (known here as "Foos'ha"). The "th" sounds all become t's, the vowels are shortened or removed entirely, and there are lots of words borrowed from French and Spanish. That said, Darija speakers are very well positioned to learn Classical Arabic or Foos'ha, since they're written the same and probably 80% of the vocabulary is the same.

But there's no guarantee you'll learn Darija. Youth Development Volunteers do, but the other sectors all have a chance of learning Darija, Tamazight, or Tasuseit (the latter two being Berber dialects). Tam and Tash (as they're known) are useless anywhere outside of Morocco. In fact, they're pretty useless if you go more than 200 km from your site, since as unwritten dialects, they vary *hugely* even from one mountain valley to the next.

But is there opportunity to learn Classical or Foos'ha? Absolutely. Peace Corps will give you money for tutoring, which you can spend however you find most helpful. Also, anyone who has been to school (read: anyone who lives in a city, the majority of men in the rural areas, and a handful of rural women) speaks Foos'ha, so there are countless opportunities to practice it. Ditto for French.

I have a lingering fear that if I join Peace Corps, I may well be saying yes to two years of celibacy. Is this accurate in your opinion?

Most of us accepted that we'd be celibate for two years when we signed on. For some, that was an accurate prediction. For some, it was not. The Peace Corps Office of Medical Services claims that 90% of PCVs request condoms during their service. Some are probably given to our friends and neighbors (we're officially forbidden to distribute them, but I'm sure some PCVs do.) Also, condoms are useful for demonstrations during health and SIDA lessons, for home-brewing wine, for pranks, and various other purposes, so some are probably requested for these reasons.

Do you have much influence on which region of the country you will be sent?

It varies. Peace Corps' priority is matching your skill set to a community's needs, so they'll try to make the match *they* want, regardless of your preferences. Of course, their other priority is keeping you productive and in-country, so they don't want you miserable. You'll have a meeting with your program staff, early in stage, where you'll talk about this. They asked me if I'd be willing to live in the mountains, and whether I'd rather be in a cold region or a hot one. I said I grew up in mountains, and I can tolerate cold but hate the heat. I got the coldest, highest-elevation site in the country. When my ceiling leaks in the winter, the drip-water puddle freezes on my floor. But at least I don't have to buy a fridge! :) In other words, they do listen to what you have to say, but they have their own priorities, too. So, like in so much of Peace Corps service, flexibility is key. :)

But also, prepare for things to be *better* than what you expect. I love my village, my host family, my mountains, even my meters of snow. I love that I speak a language known by less than a million people. (Probably less than 100,000 people, for that matter.) None of this was what I'd imagined originally. Keep your eyes open for the unexpected good - the serendipities of service.

3/8/9 International Day of the Woman

Today is International Women's Day / International Day of the Woman / World Women Day - depends on how you translate it.

Any way you phrase it, it's an excellent opportunity to raise issues of Gender and Women's Rights. :)

Peace Corps has a committee known as "GAD", Gender And Development, that helps us organize activities and events to raise awareness of women's issues.

Actually GAD's focus is broader - it's a paradigm for developement that means incorporating the attitudes and needs of *all* the members of a community - men, women, boys, girls, and the elderly.

One of the examples they give, to illustrate the importance of GAD, has to do with tree plantings.

Once upon a time, there was a community that desperately needed erosion control and soil improvement. Their Peace Corps Volunteer thought that planting trees would meet these environmental needs. He talked to the men in his village, who explained that they wanted fruit trees, to serve as a cash crop. The Volunteer found funding and there was a massive tree-planting effort.

What the PCV didn't know was that in this community, women were responsible for agriculture. So women were expected to water and nurture the trees, and eventually harvest the fruit.

The women had enough work to do, saw no point in supporting this crazy project, and the trees all died.

So the next PCV in the community talked to the women. They explained that they spend most of their time hiking into the forests nearby to gather "fuelwood", branches and twigs that they can burn to heat their houses and cook with. So they want fast-growing, low-maintenance trees that can serve as a local source of fuelwood.

So she arranged funding for a massive tree-planting effort...which was stymied at every turn by the men, who didn't like being left out of the decision-making process and who saw no point in planting trees that didn't grow saleable products.

The third Volunteer talked to the men *and* the women. She explained to the women the potential benefits of this extra income for their families. She explained to the men that if women didn't have to hike out for fuelwood, they'd have more time to cultivate the fruit trees. She got the men and the women to talk *to*each*other* about their different needs.

Result: Impasse. Deadlock. And ultimately...compromise.

The community ended up planting a combination of fruit trees and fast-growing fuelwood trees. (Pines, I think.) Since the women didn't have to go as far to get fuelwood, they were available to cultivate the fruit trees. Since the men understood the purpose of the fuelwood trees, they helped plant them.

And they all lived happily ever after. :)

I don't know how exactly this example was drawn from life, or how many details have been changed in years of retellings, but the take-home lesson is a good one: a clear understanding of gender roles and gender-based needs is key to effective, sustainable development.

Happy Women's Day! :)

2/27/09 Final Thoughts for Applicants

Since it's the last odd-numbered day in February, this is my last post explicitly dedicated to the future PCVs out there. For those of you late to the party, just look for posts with the PCinfo tag. :)

I'm delighted that this has proven to be such a popular topic. My PCinfo posts have been read more times than the other 200-some posts combined, which tells me that there's a hunger out there for this information. The official Peace Corps site actually has a huge amount of information, but it's poorly organized; even if you know that the answer you're looking for is there, it can be hard to find.

I'm sorry it's so hard for interested folks to find straightforward answers to most of their likely questions. The problem is that PC service varies immensely, based on region, sector, and even (unfortunately) race and gender.

Will I have telephone access? Will I integrate quickly into my community? Will I work in a school? How close will I live to the nearest PCV?

The answer to all of these, and to so many more, is simply, It depends.

That said, I've tried to provide helpful information. If you are thinking about applying to the Peace Corps, please refer to what I've posted. Peace Corps is a fantastic life choice, and I don't know anyone who's regretted the decision to fill out the application. Tomorrow, innocentablogged will return to its usual diet of snapshots of my life, reflections on local culture, and descriptions of my work. I hope you keep reading, but if not, best wishes as you think through this important decision!

2/26/09 Languages of Morocco, aka I love my French teachers!

I keep promising myself I'm going to write a long thank-you note to my French teachers. Mme. Lyons, Mme. Charters, M. Gauche, I can never thank you enough.

Peace Corps can create language requirements for a country, if they want to. If you want to work anywhere in Central or South America, you need to have at least two years worth of Spanish under your belt. They still give you the same 8-12 weeks of language training that all PCTs get, but you're starting from a much better place. I've heard that French is required for some of the countries in the formerly-colonized countries of West Africa, but that might just be rumor. It's certainly *recommended*, but that doesn't actually mean all that much.

I think they should make French required for a posting in Morocco.

Every Moroccan kid learns at least some French in school. The amount of French acquired varies with the quality of the teacher and of the school, but they all know *some*. If you pursue education beyond high school, all of the courses are taught in French, so you're effectively required to be (or become) fluent.

In other words, if you speak French, you can talk to a large percentage of Moroccans. Everyone in a position of authority.

If you speak Darija, aka Moroccan Arabic, you can talk to everyone in Morocco except for a scant handful of people - mostly women and old men - in some rural villages. Those folks speak one of the three varieties of the Berber dialects: Tarifit, in the north; Tamazight, in the middle of the country; and Tasuseit, in the south.

Peace Corps elected to teach me Tamazight, since they placed me in the heart of the Berber lands in the middle of the country. With Berber, I can speak to all the natives of Berberville...but not all the transplants. And nearly everyone employed by the government - teachers, police, caid, judge - are transplants.

Fortunately, they're all educated, so I chat with them in French. My French is far from flawless, especially when I'm talking quickly, and my accent is more Parisian than Moroccan (though that's changing fast), but I can communicate whatever I need, and I can understand probably 98% of what is said to me.

For the PCVs who didn't have a Mme. Lyons, a Mme. Chartres, or a M. Gauche, things are a lot harder. Those who are taught Darija in stage, ie all of the Youth Development PCVs and about a quarter of the rest of us, have it a little easier.

But if your only languages are English and Tamazight, then you're going to have a hard time explaining yourself to a policeman, teacher, or local government official whose only languages are Darija and French.

My sitemate is in this position. Before I got to town, she'd usually end up grabbing a Tam speaker - and the nearest ones were usually a secretary or janitor - and having them translate for her. That sometimes worked. But bureaucratese is hard to translate. When the police were demanding her residency authorization forms, the best the translator came up with was "papers about work". She ended up calling a Peace Corps staffer and having them translate through the phone.

(OK, I fictionalized that particular story. She told me about it a long time ago and I've forgotten some of the details. But the gist is true.)

In non-emergency situations, most of us don't like to bother the Peace Corps staff. They're overworked as it is. So we muddle along as best we can.

I'd encourage anyone planning to spend any serious length of time in Morocco to study French. (Well, study Darija if you can, but it's a lot harder to find those courses!) Studying classical Arabic won't do you much good...it's a lot like, say, a Chinese speaker studying Latin before visiting the US. The languages are related, most definitely, but centuries of evolution have created many immportant differences. More accurately, it would be like that Chinese speaker visiting the US 50 or 100 years ago, when Latin was taught in every prep school and Catholic kids grew up hearing weekly mass in it. Classical Arabic is used in mosques and Islamic Studies courses, but it's a formal, written language that has stayed carefully static for centuries. Modern Standard Arabic, spoken in Egypt, Jordan, Lebanon, etc, is quite close to Classical Arabic, but Morocco, so remote from the rest of the Arabic-speaking world, has let its language evolve further, and incorporate lots of words from French and Spanish (since France and Spain are much closer than, say, Saudi Arabia).

All of which is to say, Americans coming to Morocco should practice French.

In my work with the schools and the Department of Water and Forestry, I've found a total of 3 native Tam speakers. (Added complication: all three spoke regional variations different from mine - the risks of an unwritten language. It's a bit like an Aussie talking to someone from rural Scotland, or a midwestern American watching The Full Monty. If you listen hard, you'll do OK, but there are enough differences to make it challenging, especially if your ear isn't attuned to it.) Three. But everybody employed by the schools and DWF speaks college-level French. Lhumdullah.

I don't mind translating for my PCV friends. Honestly, I feel useless a lot of the time, so I'm grateful to have something to contribute to the work going on here. But it concerns me that it's so needed. Which brings me back to my point: Peace Corps should make French a requirement for service in Morocco. (Or else teach us all Darija, but that would preclude conversations with rural women, one of our target demographics.)

2/25/09 Your Peace Corps Toolkit

There is a tremendous amount of information available to potential PCVs. Here are some sources that I've found helpful:

The Official Peace Corps Website
SoYouWanna Join the Peace Corps
The so-called "Real Peace Corps," which says in a page what I've said in a month.
Campbell to Cameroon, the excellent, up-to-date (revised just last month!), and free 26-page book that walks you through the application process, by Travis Hellstrom

...just Google "join Peace Corps" and you'll find dozens more.

Many books have been written by PCVs about their experiences, but the world is changing so fast these days that some of the classics (my favorite is A Life Inspired) don't always reflect the current reality. I'd recommend reading Peace Corps Volunteers' blogs. They've recently given the site a big facelift, but they haven't addressed their biggest weakness, which is out-of-date blogs. Once a blog is listed, apparently it's there forever, even years after the Volunteer has left their country.

There's also a Peace Corps Wiki site, but it's not as useful as I'd hoped it would be.

Once you know which country you're going to, I'd recommend buying the Lonely Planet guide and the Culture Shock! for your nation, if they exist. Lonely Planet offers a 20-50 page overview of the history and culture of each nation, as well as detailed and constantly updated information about places to go and things to do, for when you take a weekend (or longer) trip around your new country. The Culture Shock! series delves more deeply into the culture and practices of the countries. It's written primarily for Americans living abroad - like you soon will be! - and therefore focuses a bit too much (imho) on the opportunities available to the monied foreigner, but includes vital information on everything from transportation options to hammam mores, as well as anthropological discussions about the origins of current practices. (Oh, and like all books, you can often find them for less on Amazon.com or another online bookseller. This is one case where the used book option may not be your friend, though - make sure you're getting the most up-to-date edition.)

2/23/09 FAQs

How long will it take from when I submit my application to when I ship out?
Will I end up in a mud hut?
I'm [a minority]. How will that affect my experience?
What about gender roles? Is it hard being a woman in a Muslim country?
How far from modern amenities will I be?
What are the jargon words I'll absolutely have to know?

How long will it take from when I submit my application to when I ship out?

It varies, of course, depending on how rapidly they can clear you medically, legally, etc. The shortest I've ever heard of was 2 months, and she worked in a hospital, so could get all of her medical tests and bloodwork - the biggest culprit in the delay - as soon as she wanted them. Peace Corps says that the average timeline is 6 to 9 months. For more details on what to expect, check out this post.

Is it better to join Peace Corps straight out of college or after doing other things for a while?

There's no right answer to this one. I will give you two facts: Peace Corps is working hard to increase the number of older Volunteers, especially those over 55. I believe the oldest active PCV is 82, and he's on his third term of service. (Personally, I can't imagine a more fascinating retirement than to join Peace Corps and just keep re-upping after each experience. What a student of the world you could be!)

That said, the vast majority of Volunteers are fresh out of undergrad. Most don't ship out within the first month or two of graduation, but only because ship-out dates are pretty evenly spread throughout the year, so there's only a 1/12 chance that the country you've been nominated to will ship out in June. :) On March 1, when my Peace Corps service began, around 20 of the 26 Volunteers in my stage had graduated the previous May/June or December.

So wherever you are in life - an undergrad, at a mid-career crossroads, a retiree - if Peace Corps is calling to you, give yourself a chance to listen to the call. Maybe it's time to live the life that so many people have longed for: traveling the world, immersing yourself in a foreign culture and language, broadening your definition of yourself.

Will I end up in a mud hut?

Maybe! Peace Corps still serves many deeply impoverished regions in sub-Saharan Africa and in Asia where the most common accommodation is, yes, a mud hut. But Volunteers also serve in Eastern Europe, in Central America, and pretty much all around the globe, in every climate and in cities of every size. Urban Volunteers and those living in "developing", as opposed to "under-developed" nations, usually live in houses or apartments. Me, I live in a cement house with a steel door.

I'm [a minority]. How will that affect my experience?

Every PCV's experience is different, of course, and I hate to make sweeping generalizations...but then, that is sort of what I've been doing all month, so why stop now?

I should say that "Political Correctness" has not percolated into many of the countries where we serve, so people will probably not hesitate to comment on any perceived difference between you and them. *Any* difference. Height, shoe size, skin color, clothing choices, you name it. Also, people living in isolated areas have little chance to learn about the diversity of the world, other than what they see on TV. I've encountered some shockingly ignorant comments, even from educated people, because all they have to go on is their own prejudices and what they learn from movies and the international media.

You may encounter the belief that all Americans are pale-skinned with blond hair and blue eyes, and therefore be challenged that you're not "really" American. Or, if you can "pass" for a native of the country where you serve, you may be criticized for acting differently than natives are expected to. For example, in Morocco it's inappropriate for women and girls to go into public restaurants and cafes, and no good Moroccan female would set foot in a bar...so my friends who "look Moroccan" have been turned away by bouncers and maitre d's, been refused service at bars, and generally held to a different set of expectations than those who meet the stereotypical image of Americans. Also, many folks here know little about Asian cultures, and assume that all Asian-looking people are Chinese. A Vietnemese-American friend of mine said that the first full sentence she learned, and she learned it in both Tamazight and Darija, ie the language of her village and the language of bigger cities, is how to say, "No, I'm American, but my parents came to America from Vietnam a long time ago." Every day, where I hear "Tarumit, tarumit!" (Foreign girl!), she hears "Chinois" (pronounced sheen-wa, the French word for "Chinese") and "Jackie Chan! Jackie Chan!". A dark-skinned African-American friend hears "Senagalese! Senagalese!"

I don't mean to sound discouraging; my goal here is honesty. And honestly, the best way for isolated citizens in the Third World to learn about American diversity and world diversity is to meet "diverse Americans". To see Americans of Indian and African and Asian and Latin and Native American descent, and get to know and love them.

Every Volunteer faces his or her own set of challenges. Diverse Volunteers whose deviation from the stereotyped norm is not visible, such as members of a minority religion or sexual orientation, have to make the choice of whether to publicize their difference, and live with the consequences of that choice. Here in Morocco, Jewish Volunteers may hear vehement anti-Israeli and anti-Jewish sentiments. Homosexuality is a crime, and widely considered a perversion. So do you tell the truth about yourself, risk the possible censure and distancing of your friends and neighbors, and even the chance to do work, if people stop collaborating with you? Or do you hide the truth, hide yourself away, and present a more publicly acceptable, if painfully dishonest, face?

We all have our own challenges. But they're also our own unique opportunities, whether it's to correct stereotypes, or to erode prejudices, or even just to educate. Foreign nationals will learn more about America by our very presence here than by anything we do deliberately. So we all, of whatever age, skin tone, background, religion, sexual orientation--of whatever piece of Americana we represent--we're here to bring the world a little closer together.

What about gender roles? Is it hard being a woman in a Muslim country?

I can't speak for Volunteers in Jordon or other Muslim countries, but here in Morocco, the answer for many of us would be that we're in the "third gender". Moroccans see enough tourists to realize that the customs governing the behavior and dress of Moroccan women don't have to apply to non-Moroccan women. (Of course, this means that friends who do look Moroccan have a different set of challenges, as I discussed before.) There are a few, very remote, very conservative villages where the female Volunteers have found that they need to dress identically to the women in their community in order to be accepted. Most of us do not experience that. I brought scarves to Morocco in case I'd need to "cover", as they say here, but I've never been expected to. I've gotten dressed up in Berber clothes more than once, from the top of my covered head to my bangled wrists to my henna'd toes, but it was always for fun - playing dress-up. I am expected to dress modestly, to show no skin from my neck to my elbows to my ankles, but that's mostly because Moroccan prostitutes wear revealing clothing as a signal to their potential clients, and my friends and neighbors don't want me to send inadvertant signals. Gender roles in Morocco, as in many developing and under-developed countries, are very different...but not uniformly so. In some villages, it's shameful for women to work in the fields. In others, it's shameful for them *not* to. Regardless, as a non-Moroccan woman, I'm invited to share in whatever customs I choose to, but my choices are respected, either way. My neighbors all think it's odd that I buy bread in the shop instead of kneading it myself, but they don't look down on me for it. It's just another arumi oddity, like wearing a parka or having pale skin. A male friend got stares from the women in his village when he did make his own bread, on an external wood stove like everyone else's in town, but they decided (after they got over the shock of seeing a man kneading) that they liked him for it.

That said, the experience of PCVs in Morocco varies widely, and I'm sure the spectrum of acceptable and unacceptable behavior is different in whatever country you serve in. This is one area where I can't give you a clear expectation before you go. You'll just have to go and figure it out. Flexibility, remember, patience and flexibility. :)

How far from modern amenities will I be?

It absolutely varies. If you're serving in a big city, they may all be within a few blocks of your doorstep. If you're in a tiny rural village, you may have none. Here in Morocco, just one country the size of California, we have PCVs living without electricity or water...and we have Volunteers in Posh Corps with hot showers and wireless internet at home. You'll get some say in how "posh" your post is. By which I mean, you can talk to your recruiter about it, and then once you're in-country, you'll have an interview with your staff

What are the jargon words I'll absolutely have to know?

Well, they introduce them a few at a time, so you'll learn them easily, but here's a short list:

Country Director - The buck stops there. Well, for your country anyway. They can always reach up the food chain to Peace Corps/Washington, the world headquarters, but within your country, the Country Director has the final say on matters of policy, making exceptions to the rules, deciding whether to send you home (Administrative Separation), etc.
Program Staff - The shorthand for referring to your Program Manager and/or Program Assistant. As in, I contacted my Program Staff about taking vacation next month, but haven't heard back yet.
Program Manager - The head of your sector. As an Environmental Education volunteer, I get training, resources, guidance, and work ideas from the Environment Program Manager. Each sector gets its own PM.
Program Assistant - The right-hand man or woman to your Program Manager. The job responsibilities differ on levels I don't see, like in setting the major goals and country plan for the sector, which I think is just done by the PM, but in terms of PCV-Program Staff relations and support, the PA can generally do whatever the PM does.
PCT - Peace Corps Trainee - Someone newly arrived in country, still going through training (aka stage). This is what you'll be from the day you travel to your American jumping-off point until the moment you swear in, 8-12 weeks later.
PCV - Peace Corps Volunteer - You, after swearing-in. A Peace Corps term consists of 2-3 months of training as a PCT followed by 24 months of service as a PCV. We usually refer to it all as "two years", just because it's simpler, but you'll be in-country for 26-27 months.
HCN - Host Country National - Someone who was born and raised in the country where you serve. Here, the HCNs are Moroccans, but for a PCV in the Ukraine, the HCNs are Ukranians. By referring to them as "HCNs", Peace Corps/Washington can make policy that affects all countries, without having to belabor "Moroccans and Ukranians and Russians and Jamaicans and South Africans and..." every time.
In-country - The shorthand way to say "in your assigned Peace Corps country." As in, How long have you been in-country? or I went home for Yom Kippur but got back in-country a week ago.
PCMO - Peace Corps Medical Officer - One of the doctors or nurses responsible for you. Here in Morocco, we have two doctors and one nurse, all HCNs fluent in English. They're collectively referred to as PCMO. One of them will be available by phone 24/7 (assuming you can get to a phone), as in, Ooh, you did you call PCMO about that?

I think that's all the ones you'll use in your daily conversation with fellow Volunteers. Those are the ones I've found myself using (or consciously avoiding) on the blog, just because they're part of my ingrained vocabulary.

2/21/09 5 Reasons to Reconsider Joining Peace Corps

I love my Peace Corps Service and love my village, but that doesn't mean that I've never reconsidered my decision. So you're considering joining Peace Corps? Wonderful! But don't imagine that it'll be easy-breezy. Few things of any real value ever are, after all. I did an informal poll of some PCV friends, and here are the consensus answers for "Reasons to Reconsider." I don't mean to be a downer, but my goal with all of these posts has been to give potential PCVs a realistic expectation of Peace Corps service.

5 Reasons to Reconsider Joining Peace Corps

1. It's hard. I mean, really hard. You'll be living hundreds or thousands of miles away from everyone you knew before. You probably won't speak the language all that well, certainly to begin with, though that improves over time. You'll be stared at, marginalized, fetishized, ignored, dismissed, mocked, and blamed, possibly all in the same day. You'll encounter ugly stereotypes about yourself and people you love. You'll eat food that's foreign to you and foreign to your digestive tract. You may not have running water. Or electricity. Or paved roads. You may go a month without hearing a word of English.

2. Your isolation. Unless you're fortunate enough to have a site-mate, you are the only American around. The only native English speaker. The only person who understands the importance of peanut butter and Good Night Moon (or pick examples from your own childhood). You may have functioning phones and even internet, but if you don't, you may go weeks or months without hearing from loved ones. (Even if you do have a phone or internet, they may not work dependably.)

3. The slow pace of development. A lot of us thought that good old American elbow grease and determination would be enough to accomplish wonderful things. They're not. There are dozens or hundreds of factors that affect the work you're doing, not all of which are in your control. There could be bureaucracy issues. You might face a demand for paperwork you've never heard of, as a precondition to further action, minutes or hours before your planned activity. There's the fatal combination of weather and limited infrastructure. It doesn't matter how important or urgent it is that you get to your destination; if a blizzard drops a meter of snow on you, the road will be closed for awhile.

To those of us used to busy days crammed full of appointments and to-do lists, the slow pace of development can be devastating. Downtime is the one thing that stage, with its frenetic pacing and relentless activity, does not prepare you for. If you have two meetings in a week, that may be a pretty good week. If you want your work to be sustainable - to outlive your service here - you need to move forward by building consensus, creating relationships, training people who might think that the thing you're training them for is ridiculous...and these things take time. When everything else is (or seems to be) dragging along, discouragement and cynicism can grow rapidly.

4. Your minimal access to western medicine. There is a western-trained doctor or nurse (known as PCMO, for Peace Corps Medical Officer) available by phone 24/7, but sometimes that's not enough (even if you have access to a phone, which isn't a guarantee). If you need face-to-face medical attention, you may be referred to a doctor who doesn't speak your language, or else be asked to travel the hours or days it takes to get to the capital and see PCMO. When you get in-country, PCMO will give you a giant case full of drugs, gauze, surgical gloves, chapstick, etc, and then expect you to dose yourself with that as the occasion arises. One friend was asked to look in a mirror, find her tonsils (which she'd never looked for before), and describe them to PCMO, who then diagnosed strep throat and prescribed antibiotics...all over the phone. Another thought he had pnumonia, but was waved off with "It's just the flu; take two ibuprofin and call back tomorrow." He dragged himself, with a 104* temperature, to an American doctor who happened to be working nearby. That doctor diagnosed pnumonia at a glance, and sent him for chest x-rays...but the x-ray technician didn't image the whole lungs, so missed the key symptom, so PCMO still thought it was the flu. He had pnumonia for a month before getting treatment. There are many, many horror stories like this.

5. You're poor. You do get paid, plus Peace Corps covers your rent and tutoring, but it's a stipend, not a salary. You are expected to maintain the same standard of living as people in your community. This means that my take-home salary is less than US$250 a month. Fortunately, taxes aren't withheld - our stipends are well below US poverty line! I live in one of the cheapest regions in the country - quite possibly *the* cheapest - and I don't eat meat (which is quite expensive here), and I still spend nearly all of my stipend every month. Living modestly. People in more expensive regions, or who are more fond of vacationing around and eating out, usually subsidize their stipends with money from the US. Our stipend hasn't been increased in years (how many years? Depends who you ask - some say 5 years, some 15), and won't be unless 75% of us fill out an online survey detailing exactly how much we spend in a month, and what we spend it on. Given how few of us have regular internet access, plus how hard it is to account for every centime (worth about 0.12 cents), I don't foresee a raise any time soon.

Did I scare you? Depress you? I'm sorry. Peace Corps service is life-changing and rewarding to degrees almost unimaginable before...but it's not easy, and it comes with no guarantees. But if you're too depressed, go back and read the Top 10 Reasons to Join Peace Corps. :)

2/19/09 Top 10 Reasons To Join Peace Corps

As part of my ongoing series for future PCVs, today I'm going to give you what constitute, in my opinion, the ten best reasons to join. Some are as altruistic as our mission; some are more pragmatic, for those of us not channeling Mother Theresa; some are just funny. For the flipside...see my post in two days.

1. You'll love it. There's a reason that Peace Corps used "The toughest job you'll ever love" as their tagline for so many years. Many jobs are tough, and many are deeply rewarding, but once you've climbed this mountain - crossed language barriers, culture barriers, and thousands of miles - you'll stand on the summit, surveying all you've accomplished, and feel a core-deep thrill.

2. You'll be working for peace. You'll be in the business of strengthening connections between America and the world, deepening understandings across cultural divides, and enriching the world's peace dividend. Remember the old joke about the military? Travel the world, meet interesting people, and then kill them? In the Peace Corps, you get to travel the world, meet interesting people, and share two years of your life loving and helping them. It's not as funny, but it makes up for it. :)

3. You'll make some of the best friendships of your lifetime. Your connections to the people in your community as well as your fellow PCVs will sustain you through these two years and through the decades beyond. My stage-mates and my neighboring Volunteers are a constant source of laughter, strength, and renewal.

4. "Peace Corps Volunteer" and "International Development Worker" both look awfully good on a resume. You'll instantly demonstrate to future employers that you're resourceful, adaptable, and persistent.

5. Many international aid organizations want you to have experience abroad, to know that you're up for the challenge. Two years living and working in a developing country is more than they'd dare to hope for. You'll be beautifully positioned for any number of NGOs or government posts.

6. In the current economy, jobs with a guaranteed future are hard to come by. In Peace Corps, you'll get twenty-seven months of a living wage and benefits, plus your readjustment allowance of around $6500, payable when you return to the US. And to steal a line from the Hegemonist, if your employer goes under, you'll have bigger things to worry about than your career.

7. Considering grad school? Dozens of graduate programs have partnered with Peace Corps to offer advantages to returning PCVs, from waived application fees to course credit. For details, look here.

8. Your host family gives you a whole new family to love (or hate). You'll have new birthdays, new siblings, and a mountain of aunties, uncles, and cousins to share laughter and love with. Many PCVs stay in touch with their host families for the rest of their lives.

9. You'll gain a new appreciation for the amenities of life in the US. Alternatively, you'll discover that you don't actually mind going a week without a hot shower. Or probably both. :) Living a lifestyle that doesn't prioritize this year's shoes or this month's hairdo frees you to celebrate the deeper aspects of individuality. Plus, your morning routine will drop to a minute or two. :)

10. The weight-loss plan. As in, "Do you have a parasite or have you been working out?" (Which, yes, is a real quote.) The adjustments your body makes to the hygienic conditions and new foods will have all kinds of effects on you, but yes, weight loss is a frequent side effect. Most of us lose between 10 and 50 pounds. (Seriously.)

So whether you're in it for the altruism, the careerism, or the diet plan, Peace Corps offers these and countless other benefits. I know I'm thrilled to be here; wouldn't you?

Update 2/20:
11. Your cooking skills will expand exponentially. You're likely to be in a place with abundant produce and few (if any) pre-processed foods, so you'll be forced to learn how to cook everything from scratch. And with two years of trial and error, it's inevitable that you'll become quite a cook. :)

Update 4/20:
12. You'll grow as a person. You will have hours upon hours in which to reflect on life, love, God...all the big questions. You'll face challenges that most Americans can't imagine, and learn things about yourself that will change the course of your life. Maybe that's why Peace Corps changed their motto from the one quoted above to, "Life is calling. How far will you go?"

2/17/09 The Sectors: Environment

As part of my ongoing, every-other-day series on Peace Corps, I'm going to discuss each of the four sectors in which PCVs serve, here in Morocco: Youth Development, Small Business Development, Health, and Environment. They are four of the five most-populous sectors in all of Peace Corps, so this should be useful information for Peace Corps applicants, regardless of which country or region they're hoping for. Today, I'll focus on Environment.

Last, but absolutely not least, we come to my sector. Environment Volunteers work on a wide range of issues, focused around the theme of "Environmental Education". This could be formal education, working with groups of students; or informal education in schools, such as starting an "EE Club"; or having conversations with shopkeepers that lead to them using fewer plastic bags; or teaching people how to build more-efficient woodstoves so they burn fewer trees; or planting trees and explaining their many benefits; or putting on an Earth Day festival; or anything else you can think of.

Environment Volunteers have the least-direct supervision of the sectors, and are most responsible for creating their own work. If you thrive in this kind of environment, this may be a good fit. If you like directed projects and to-do lists and external guidance, you may struggle as an Environment Volunteer. Also, because we work in Parks and other sites of biological or ecological interest, we tend to be remote. Most of us are at least an hour from the nearest decent-sized city. I'm four hours away from mine, which I think is the record. (I believe I also have the coldest and highest-elevation site. Lucky me! PCVs, if you think you can challenge me on either of these, bring it on...)

2/15/09 The Sectors: Health

As part of my ongoing, every-other-day series on Peace Corps, I'm going to discuss each of the four sectors in which PCVs serve, here in Morocco: Youth Development, Small Business Development, Health, and Environment. They are four of the five most-populous sectors in all of Peace Corps, so this should be useful information for Peace Corps applicants, regardless of which country or region they're hoping for. Today, I'll focus on Health.

Health Volunteers typically partner with a nurse or doctor in a sbitar, or rural clinic. They may provide health lessons on topics like toothbrushing, handwashing, anti-smoking, SIDA (AIDS) prevention, prenatal care, or nearly anything else that has to do with keeping yourself healthy. They may directly assist the medical staff with tasks like weighing babies. One popular project among Health Volunteers is arranging the purchase of an incinerator, to safely dispose of medical waste. Another is helping a community install sanitary bathrooms.

Some Health Volunteers have medical backgrounds or even nursing degrees, but the vast majority do not. (What about people with medical degrees, you ask? They usually join Doctors Without Borders, not Peace Corps.)

Health Volunteers are often groundbreakers, moving into sites that have never had a Peace Corps Volunteer before. These are often very remote and underdeveloped villages. If you're looking for a "real" Peace Corps experience, without running water or electricity, Health may be the sector for you.

2/13/09 The Sectors: Small Business Development

As part of my ongoing, every-other-day series on Peace Corps, I'm going to discuss each of the four sectors in which PCVs serve, here in Morocco: Youth Development, Small Business Development, Health, and Environment. They are four of the five most-populous sectors in all of Peace Corps, so this should be useful information for Peace Corps applicants, regardless of which country or region they're hoping for. Today, I'll focus on Small Business Development, aka SBD.

Small Business Development Volunteers are partnered with artisanal or agricultural cooperatives and associations-working-towards-becoming-cooperatives. These coops may focus on crafts like weaving, carving, or metalsmithing, or they may focus on niche crops, like argan oil, honey, medicinal herbs, or saffron. SBD Volunteers help these fledgling enterprises with product development, marketing, finding craft fairs to display their wares, etc. Some SBD Volunteers have backgrounds in craftwork or art, while others have business or economic degrees.

SBD is a new sector in Morocco, so it's still finding its footing, and in fact is in the process of rewriting its goals right now. SBD Volunteers are sometimes placed with YD Volunteers in amenity-laden cities, where they can help established coops move towards business status or microloans, but they're also placed in rural villages like mine, to help nascent businesses get off the ground.

2/11/09 The Sectors: Youth Development

As part of my ongoing, every-other-day series on Peace Corps, I'm going to discuss each of the four sectors in which PCVs serve, here in Morocco: Youth Development, Small Business Development, Health, and Environment. They are four of the five most-populous sectors in all of Peace Corps, so this should be useful information for Peace Corps applicants, regardless of which country or region they're hoping for. Today, I'll focus on Youth Development, aka YD.

Youth Development Volunteers spend most of their time with young people, not surprisingly. They work at youth centers, summer camps, schools, and anywhere else the youth congregate. Here in Morocco, most YD Volunteers go to a Dar Chebab (youth center, literally a "House of Young People") to teach daily English classes. As I mentioned a few days ago, Moroccans who get to work with these native speakers end up speaking much more fluidly, not to say fluently, than students who encounter English only through Victorian novels. That then opens opportunities to live and work abroad, or with tourists or the government here in Morocco. YD Volunteers also run week-long English Language Immersion camps for advanced students, during Spring Break and throughout the summer.

Perks of YD:

Because they go to the Dar Chebab nearly every day, YD volunteers have the closest approximation of a 9-5 job that you'll find in Peace Corps. If that kind of structure is important to you, Youth Development may be a good fit. Also, YD volunteers are always placed in the bigger towns and smaller cities. (Rural villages don't have enough youth to support a Dar Chebab, and the biggest cities are forbidden for security reasons.) This means you'll have constant access to electricity, water, stores, cafes, restaurants... Nearly every YD volunteer I know has internet in their home and satellite cable TV. Many have hot water heaters, too. If you prefer this slightly-more-comfortable lifestyle, this might be the sector for you. The final "perk" of this sector, some would argue, is that all YD Volunteers in Morocco learn Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic. For anyone planning to work in the Middle East after Peace Corps, fluency in Darija is a big step towards fluency in the Standard Arabic spoken from the Levant to Egypt. Morocco PCVs who don't learn Darija learn a Berber dialect, which is spoken only in the Atlas Mountains of Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia.

If you have any further questions, please let me know via email or by posting something in the comments.