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"Little By Little- NF"
buckeyegirl 5446 desperate attention whore postings
DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold"
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01-17-04, 12:29 PM (EST)
 
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"Little By Little- NF" |
LAST EDITED ON 01-17-04 AT 12:30 PM (EST)Edited to add: I just realized that I forgot to put WCSC in the title....
I wondered what I had done to deserve this. Why, for the thousandth time had I volunteered to live in the desert, where I was the only American for miles and miles around? No one to speak English to-only my halting Berber. I looked at the mud walls of my house, and told myself that in order to go to work, I had to leave. I could not stay in my house forever. Speaking in a strange tongue and being the object of ridicule was exhausting and more stressful then anything I had ever experienced. I was having trouble leaving the house because of an incident that had occurred the day before. I had innocently gone on the government sponsored vaccination drive with my counter part to some neighboring villages, mainly because other Peace Corps Volunteers had said that this was an experience you didn’t want to miss. Well, it was an experience all right. I had only been in my village a week, and all I could say in Berber was: “Mamakatget” How are you? And ask directions to get from point A to point B and a few other words here and there. My counterpart and I had traveled to a village that was isolated from modern civilization. It looked as though time had stopped there. It was nestled in the Sahara desert and was about 100 km away from my small village, which made it 5 hours from anywhere. It was a date palm oasis, like mine was, only it had more trees, and more water. It was a breathtaking view-I could easily see why people would choose to live here instead of Marrakech or Rabat. When my counter part and I finally arrived, we were welcomed by the mayor-type person and his officials to have the obligatory Mint tea and some horrible dry cookies that one could tell were only used for special occasions such as this. After managing to grasp most of the conversation at the tea (The weather has been so hot, the road is bad, etc.) I was feeling quite proud of myself and very confident by the time our group made it to the site where we would give the vaccinations. The line for vaccinations was already miles long by the time we got there-I could tell it would be a long day. I was confused about what my job would be as I couldn’t actually give the vaccination. As I soon found out, my job was to be errand girl and get whatever it was my counterpart needed. During a lull of the errand running, I was sitting writing a letter home, when a group of boys around 8 or so came up to me. Or rather attempted to approach me. As soon as they would get about 5 feet from me, they would scream and run to the nearest door. Apparently, they were daring each other to see who could talk to the American. This went on about 7 or 8 times before an adult saw what was going on and put a stop to it. I’m not sure what was said to the boys, but after what I could tell was a good dressing down, they ran out the door, and no one bothered me on my breaks again. That was the most humbling and awful experience of my entire time at my village. I couldn’t understand why they were so afraid me. It upset me, and I couldn’t entirely shake the notion that I was the local joke, and had a hard time having a good time the rest of the day in the village we were in. My nurse explained to me that it wasn’t anything I had done, the boys just weren’t used to seeing foreigners in their village, let alone an American. I had scared them, and their daring each other was just their way. He told me that my Berber was good for not having been there long, and I shouldn’t take it personally. I took it personally though, and thought I had failed miserably at being a good ambassador for the States in that tiny village that time had forgotten. So the next day when it came time to go the clinic to give my health education lessons and just chat with the villagers, I had worked myself into a state. What if I was made fun of again? What if I couldn’t remember any Berber? What if I spilled tea on me? What if boys chased after me again? What if the women laughed at me for giving stupid presentations? There were so many whatif’s running through my mind that I was sick with doubt by the time I finally worked up enough courage to leave the house.
As soon as I started the 30 minute hike to the village, I was stopped by a women I had met earlier in the week. Please won’t you come in and have some tea with me? So I did. Amazingly, Berber words I didn’t realize I knew flew out of my mouth, and I was able to have my first real conversation with someone. After leaving there, about 4 houses down I was again invited in for tea. And again, I was able to communicate well enough to make small talk with the family who lived there. Two hours later and 7 tea stops later, I finally made it the clinic. “What took you so long to get here this morning?” Asked my counterpart? After explaining to him what happened he smiled. The smile confused me. Shouldn’t he be upset with me for being late? “Aren’t you mad at me for being so late?” I asked haltingly? “Schewa by Schewa” he replied. “What?” I asked. “Little by Little the people here are taking you into their world. It is hard for them, having a foreigner help them out, but by having tea you are showing them that you are beginning understand their world, and in return they are beginning to understand you. What you’re doing here takes time. In America things happen instantly, but here in the desert time moves on its on accord. Remember that the next time you think you aren’t fitting in well enough. Remember this is a new beginning of a new life.”
Whenever I am going through a difficult time in my life, I look back on the phrase "Little by Little" and realize that everything is going to be ok. 
-please be kind, it's the first thing I've written in ages
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Puffy 6091 desperate attention whore postings
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11-26-04, 11:34 PM (EST)
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6. "RE: Little By Little- NF" |
I just found your story, from a link that Gothmog posted in another thread. I really enjoyed reading it. I'd love to read more about your experiences. Thanks for posting it.
RIP
created by the incomparable IceCat
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gotta lvoe the loaf 
Wheeze 
