A Year Reflected Upon

    Socrates once said that all he really "knew" was the extent of his own ignorance. The last year of my life has embodied this idea of knowledge and left me bare to see myself as I truly am. Something can be said for spending countless months separated from all that you once knew, and at times it is difficult to recall the fact that I am currently 5,000 miles away from the home I grew up in and the wonderful family and group of friends who have helped get me to this point in my life. Within the first few months of being in Morocco I soon had the epiphany of what would come to define this time away from America, and it quite simply is this: time away.

    If I made a list of every thing that occupied my time and mental faculties while in the states, the list would be immense. I have the belief that this is not simply unique to me, but is indicative of how most people I have been around spend their time. Family and friends would probably top that list, but school, careers, doctor's appointments, shots for the dog, facebook, twitter, the internet in general, 200+ television channels to trudge through looking for anything to catch your attention, would all be competing elements of daily life that clutter their way into our minute to minute existence. In all of this it is often baffling how little time we have to ourselves. Sometimes the only time people have to be alone with their own thoughts is their sacred time in the restroom, shower or before drifting off to sleep at night. Now imagine the shock to the system as I encountered my new life where internet may be intermittent, I live with no television, the water in my house chooses to be off for days at times and the there are only two other Americans within an hour and a half from me.

    Now this is where the concept of knowing the extent of my own ignorance comes into play. It is hard to bluff for a year in another country where you do not know the language or the people and are separated from your previous life. The bluffing can be done, but in an environment such as the one I am living in will reveal your true self over time. I can only speak for myself, but I have become more honest with myself and those around me and once that moment comes you can begin to look outward a little bit more.

    The amount of events and people and feelings I wish I could describe here for you would take up pages, and would also unnecessarily take away from your day in an unproductive way. But thinking on the last year I've felt as if I've been slowly climbing the first hill on a roller coaster, frozen at the top for a moment, poised to tumble down the hill with all the momentum I have been gaining. I think of the confidence I have gained within my community; greetings coming from many directions as I walk the streets near my apartment, the countless invitations to meals with families, the short stops for tea outside of a barbershop or cafe, the young children who stare at me wide eyed as if seeing something wholly unique for the first time (AAHH! WHITE MAN!!) until I say "Salam, labas?" with a smile and watch, amused, as the kid doesn't know what to make of me but their mouth slowly closes and starts to smile.

    The students who continuously attend my English classes, eager to learn, never fail to make my days, almost like clock work. The volunteers I have been able to spend countless hours with, at times doing nothing other than spending two hours at a cafe with nothing but our cups of coffee and our arsenal of conversation skills, have been one of my favorite aspects of my time in Morocco. I have written in previous blogs about my classes and about my friendships with other volunteers so this could be set aside for another time, but there is one more thing I wanted to tell you about:

    As the anniversary of the September 11th attacks passed yesterday I took the moment to think about an incident that happened to me this past school year while talking to a high school English class in my town. We were talking about American culture and as the period ended about half of the class headed out the door but about fifteen students came towards the front to continue talking. Both boys and girls were present when I was asked the question I very often receive: "Do you pray? Are you a Muslim?" As I began to explain that I was not but that I respect and understand their beliefs and religion one of the boys interrupted me saying, "Why do Americans hate Muslims? Why were they mad about New York and why do think Bin Laden was bad?"
    Obviously these questions hit me hard, here I was in a town as the only American, and for many of the students I was the only American they had ever met. So standing there, as the students and the teacher eagerly listened for my response I started slowly and responded the best way I could. I asked the students what they cared most about in life and what they wanted out of life. As they began to mention things like a good job and families I told them that for most Americans, all they care about in life is their family, their children, leading a good life and being happy as well. I asked the boy, "From what you have told me, you would be happy if someone came in this room right now and killed me for who I was and where I was from and they would be right to do so?" The boy soon backpedaled and said that of course no, they really liked me they said. So what about my mother and father, my brothers and sister? Again they said of course not, that would not stand. I then extrapolated and told them to just keep pushing that idea further to include my friends and the rest of the 300 million Americans who want nothing more than to care for their families and to be happy. I asked them to put themselves in the place of all Americans on that day and how it would have devastated and changed them forever. As I began to explain how although we live in a Democracy that every choice made by our government once they've been elected are not vetted or okay-ed by the public as a whole. Logically it does not follow that the responsibility for the decisions a president makes should fall to the people born to that country.
    Understandably there is much more to this complicated issue, but this is about the extent we covered in that 30 minutes after class. Obviously many people I come in contact with feel very strongly against what happened on 9/11 and vehemently confirm their appreciation and love for Western culture and the United States. What are the ways I could have reacted in that classroom? Icould have angrily stormed out of the room, I could have become outraged and begun telling them how ignorant and one dimensional they were being, but in retrospect those thoughts never even entered my mind. Here were a group of people who have limited access to information about the world, much of what they believe comes from parents, community members and the local news all of which constantly confirm an already held bias. They had never seen an American's point of view on this issue before, let alone met one. I did the best I could with answering their questions and I feel I learned more about myself and the deeply important notion that we should never be satisfied with our beliefs about the world and ourselves, we must continue to grow and learn new things, especially those from opposing or conflicting views than your own.