"Drifa", means nice

Evenings in the village

Boy walking on top of water trench 

Kids show me around in fields

I often look at the moon

Grandma telling me about hair henna

Boys admire my bike

Duct tape cell phone holder, a new creation

Evening journal-ling has become a routine

As I continue to study and make friends, I am continuing to adjust to the slower pace of Morocco where an indirect culture doesn't provide direct answers and time is not of the essence. It's  challenging to stay positive when things are so different and often misunderstood. I am finding the rhythm of my village which proves to be comforting. Although it doesn't feel like much progress is being made yet, I am focusing on the integration process. Many locals in the community are telling me I'm, "drif", which means 'nice' in Arabic. I have made it six months in country and am reflecting on all I have learned so far. It seems so long ago I boarded the plane to get here to be a part of my dream. I'm proud of the things I've accomplished: journal writing, cooking, dancing with friends or alone, talking with new friends, meeting new people, learning a new language, traveling in Morocco, juggling in a talent show, star gazing, taking walks and bike rides, solving puzzles, sewing, creating artsy things, had a good long cry, having coffee and pastry in a cafe, bought something new, sing out loud, training for Peace Corps, giving messages, swimming in a pool, learned how to bake bread and Moroccan cuisine, blogging, skyping with friends, reading good books, coloring, sketching, organizing, going to the local outdoor market, going for a donkey ride, seeing Fantasia festival and ride an Arabian horse, go to the carnival, eat ice cream, sleep under the stars, have a cold drink, cloud gazing, nature walks, yoga, take a nap, meditate, listen to music, being domestic, going to weddings and funerals, move into an apartment, decorate a new place, paint my nails and spend time alone.