New House and More

As of July 1^st, I am living in my own house! The new found privacy and sense of independence of freedom did not come too soon. I didn’t realize how much I’d gotten used to living on my own in the last 4 years until I spent 4 months living with Moroccan host families. I was lucky to get two very nice families, but that fourth month was challenging and a true test of patience. I found myself finding reasons to spend days outside of site so I could escape my host mother’s constant inquisitive demeanor and at least some of her cooking. I’d had enough of the strictly bread or couscous diet. In her defense, Malika made efforts to be flexible and understanding and was therefore probably less imposing than other host families have been with fellow Volunteers, but I still couldn’t wait to live alone again, and on my terms. At the same time, these daytime excursions have been a great way to get to know the region in which I live. There’s much more exploring to be done!

So, when I returned from Essaouira on June 28, I set to work tracking down my landlord and getting the rental agreement signed. This was no easy feat. As promised, he’d done the necessary work on the house; patched up the hole in the wall of the courtyard, closed off the wall to the latrine/shower, and installed doors and windows. In addition to my Peace Corps rental agreement, the landlord, Mohamed, also wanted to get an official rental agreement typed up in Arabic and stamped by the commune. This is not always practiced when renting village houses, but I can understand why he would want to do it. The one cyber café owner in site knows how to do it and we had a rough time getting a hold of him. Three times we made the 20 minute trek across town to his cyber only to find the doors bolted shut. The tailor next door said the cyber man had supposedly lost his keys and therefore couldn’t open shop. By day five though, we finally found him and he typed up the document. Mohamed also signed my rental agreement, and I gave him my first month’s rent.

In the meantime, I’d already gotten a key to the house and moved in. Malika helped me sweep the cement chunks and dust out of the rooms on the evening of June 30. Freedom was within reach, finally, and I just couldn’t wait another night to move in. After throwing the last bucket of dust out the door at 9pm, I ran down to the town center to find a man with a motorcycle wagon who could transport my things from Malika’s house. By 11pm, I was alone in my new house and jumping for joy in the courtyard. I can now walk around in my underwear when its boiling hot out and I don’t have to worry about being seen by my teenage host brothers or my host father. I can get up when I want, eat what and when I want, and come and go without explanation. Oh the simple joys in life.

But, I am not completely alone in my house. I have a an adorable four-legged companion: a dog named Haddoc. I adopted him from Sara, a fellow Volunteer in my region who decided she didn’t want a dog anymore. Sara brought him to Marrakech by feeding him Benadryl and managing to place him in a souk bag and sneak him onto the city bus without the driver seeing him. By the time I was ready to take him home, the drugs had worn off and I couldn’t get him in a bag so secretively. The driver saw me coming with a dog in my arms and shook his finger “no”. I walked him about a mile out of the city to the taxi stand. There, I got at least part of him in a bag and held him on my laps as we drove to the Barrage. I named him Haddoc, in keeping with the tradition of naming my pets after the Tintin et Milou comic book characters. He’s 100% mutt, and about 4 months old. During the first two days, I found him surprisingly calm for a puppy. But, it must have been a combination of the Benadryl and the adjustment to a new house and owner. It turns out he’s just as wacky and energetic as any puppy, and I hope the puppy stage doesn’t last the entire 2 years.

The most challenging thing is poddy training him, as he was apparently not trained to do his business outside the house. But, despite his fascination for chewing on trash when we go on walks, he stays with me without a leash, and can keep up on 5 mile runs. He’s definitely going to keep me occupied the next several months.