Dispatches from the Front

A while ago, back when I moved into the apartment here in Rabat with 8 other Americans, I jokingly named it "The Real World: Rabat." Little did I know, my prediction wouldn't be wholly accurate. Instead, we've managed to trump any season of Real World with the sheer absurdity of our goings-on.

Ever since the Americans arrived, and started their whirlwind tour through themselves and other Moroccans, things have been getting and more complicated. Adding to this has been the addition of three new trainees: Merell and Bernadette from the Netherlands, and Nathalie from Dusseldorf, Germany. Add in frequent houseguests: Khan from Mali, three ladies from the south of France, Souad from Denmark, plus the omnipresent AIESEC members, and you'll come away with some interesting stories...

Without being as annoyingly vague as I've already managed to become, this traineeship in Morocco has been a lot more than a work experience, it's been an experience in drama, coping, women, cultural sensitivy (I swear one day I'll stop making fun of Germans...), and pretty much everything in between. As time begins to wind down (I'm out of here the 13th of August), and as I wait for my mom to come in on the 4th, I'm left with some time to think about everything that's happened here, good and bad.

At the risk of being cliche, the best thing I've learned here is not to sweat the small stuff, and keep the (imagined) big stuff in perspective. I've slowed down a bit, lightened up, calmed down, and have hopefully changed for the better.

In doing all of this soul-searching, I've been helped along by the Moroccan emphasis on people and warm personal interaction. I know I've already talked about hospitality/touching and things along those lines, but I just want to reiterate how great it's been to be able to get into a petit taxi, and by the end of the ride, come out as good friends with the driver... time after time.