"I hear, I know. I see, I remember. I do, I understand" ~Confucius

Hey there,

It's been just over a week since I've been home, and I thought I'd check in one more time before signing off. Getting re-acclimated was much harder than I anticipated, and it's been a long, emotional, and spacey week for me! I've had my good days and bad days, mindful to be gentle with myself as I mourn an experience that was so near to my heart. I think the hardest thing has been realizing that I most likely will never see most of the people again whom where a large part of my life this past month. From the children at the orphanage to the nurses, CCS staff members, and volunteers. I know this will take some time.

Sharon, my CCS Morocco Program Manager, said something that I thought was eternally wise. I was telling her how I was reminding myself that just because the experience is over doesn't mean you can continue to learn and grow from it. She remarked that maybe the sad part that you go through once home is also part of the experience. How true is that?! It's the part of the experience that we would prefer to do without, but that may be necessary to ensure the experience affects us in ways we remember and continue to grow from.

So I'm doing just that. Mourning what was in Morocco, and learning how to somehow inter mesh my experience in Morocco with my day-to-day life back here in the States. Learning how to continue to move on without forgetting. I'm not sure if Morocco changed who I am but instead helped me validate and get back to parts of what I've wanted to be. Not sure if that makes any sense :)

So much more happened than what I could ever write in a blog or express through my photos. I'd love to go out and grab coffee with those who want to hear more. If you yourself are interested in volunteering with CCS, I highly recommend it! You can find more information on their website, and feel free to contact me with any questions as well.

And now, what many of you have been asking for.... PHOTOS! 475 of my favorites, to be exact. As you know, photos were not allowed at the orphanage and therefore it is only a compilation of my travels and free time outside of volunteering. My parents want to have a "show and tell" night sometime in October where we'll have dessert and I'll go through a slideshow with more explanation of the photos, so stay tuned for that!

Until then, b'salaama (goodbye), and shokran (thank you) for all of your prayers, support, and encouragement.

Moroccan Madness: A Month in Pictures

America- land of free toilet paper

Ah, home sweet 52* and pouring rain home… Seriously, America is COLD!

I got home safely after 22 hours of travel. My bags decided to have a sleepover in New York, but thankfully I am back where there’s clean underwear for such events!

Some things that I’ve been shockingly reminded of regarding the States:

-There’s toilet paper in public bathrooms… and you don’t even have to pay for it! Did I mention you also get to flush it instead of throwing it away in the garbage?! Simply amazing!

-People wear tank tops and short skirts. Out in public. And no one looks at them. Except for me, ‘cause they look pretty darn naked after seeing such…”fully dressed”… women in Morocco

-I went to Starbucks today (personal high-five!), and there were women sitting in there. Not only were they eating and drinking in public, but they were sitting in the café enjoying themselves. Such a shock after seeing so many cafes full of only men, all facing the road and ready and rearing to gossip about whatever passes.

-Cars, somehow by something of a miracle, actually stay in their lanes. They don’t travel to and from one lane to the other, don’t form additional lanes that don’t exist, and policemen actually pull people over for not wearing seatbelts. By the time I was in a car for the third time today, I even remembered to wear my seatbelt (another personal high-five!)!

-While I saw more fights in Morocco than I’ve ever seen, Moroccans are definitely friendlier than Americans are. There isn’t an unwritten rule that you don’t talk to strangers; everyone seems to talk to everyone and it was a shock to get to America and realize that here people have these invisible bubbles that they don’t really want popped.

So that’s the crazy stuff. I don’t mean it as a bash toward Morocco by any means; it’s just a different way of living. I’ve got so much going through my head and so much to process that I know it will be days if not weeks before I have my bearings again. I woke up at 3:00 AM this morning pondering life’s biggest questions and unable to sleep with questions like, “How do I come back without forgetting?” and, “Why is it that some people are blessed with opportunities that others never even get the chance to see?” You know, the little stuff.

I went to church this morning, which was something that I really missed when I was gone. Pastor Ryan spoke about going all in when sharing your beliefs. He mentioned the question, “What does your life say about you? What is its message?” It would be so easy for me to write off volunteering due to my busy schedule of work and school. But that’s where my passion is, and that’s what I believe God wants me to be doing. Ryan also spoke about how easy it is for us to feel like we’re constantly unfulfilled, but that it’s impossible to do so when we rarely empty out what we already have. Like adding water to a water bottle that is already filled to the brim, it’s impossible to gain more when you’re not giving out what you already have.

My goal is to pour out what I have, no matter how big or how small. I have no idea when and if I’ll be able to do another trip like this (although I would in an absolute heartbeat, and already have my mind set on Tanzania!), but my hope is to continue volunteering in ways that I can. I also hope to share Christ’s love through my life, just as He has loved me. Gosh, it’s so much easier said than done, but it is a good goal, right?

So back to reality, mindful of what I’ve learned from a culture unlike anything I’ve experienced. I’m already homesick for Morocco and ready to get back! It was seriously a trip of a lifetime, and I feel so blessed that I was not only able to do this, but that I was able to do it in Morocco with CCS. I couldn’t have been more impressed.

Stay tuned for pictures, and thank you for all of your support!!

B’Salaama :)

Be all that you can be (jn the Army?!)

I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And I will not let what I cannot do interfere with what I can do. ~Edward Everett Hale

This trip hasn’t been for me. Sure, I’ve gotten some amazing memories and moments of deep emotional revelation out of it, but my goal for this trip has and will continue to be what I can do to share the Love selflessly and wholeheartedly. A volunteer who just began this week remarked on the way home, “I hope I am helping. I feel that I am, but it’s hard to know if us being at the orphanage is really making a difference.” It’s a natural thought, and something that I’ve pondered a lot while I’ve been here.

What this wonderful woman has not seen is what happens when we, as volunteers, leave. For the last three weeks a group of about 15 Spaniards have been volunteering with the disabled group at the orphanage. I was originally signed up to help with the disabled, but the orphanage said they wouldn’t need my help in that area because the Spaniards had it covered. And boy were they right! They pushed those children and young adults around, cared for them like they were their own, and loved on each and every child they came into contact with. The kids surrounded them as they sang wonderful songs from their hearts and many, whom I never knew could walk, got up out of their wheelchairs and danced.

The Spaniards went home late last week, and seeing the disabled children without them this week showed me that we are in fact making a difference as volunteers. Most of the kids no longer had smiles on their faces, many were acting out, and the overall feel of the disabled group was that of sorrow. How it breaks my heart that I’m sure they’re wondering what happened to their new close and loving friends!

We are making a difference. We may not see it, but it’s there. Whether it’s giving a brief break to the nurse who is in the middle of a 12 hour shift or rocking a less than 24 hour baby as he cries competitively amongst the 38 other newborns, we’re making a difference. Maybe I’m typing this solely to convince myself, as it’s hard to remember that I can make any sort of dent in the some of the saddest of circumstances.

My hope is that I am coming across as a Spaniard. Because this isn’t about me, but about giving all that I have and 10% more to a cause that is so important. My prayer is that I can help plant the seed of hope in things greater. After all, that’s what faith is: hoping in the unseen.

Motherly Love

Another day has come and gone at the orphanage with not much new to report. I noticed an extra bed in the newborn room this morning as I was feeding and quickly scanned the room to see a brand new little face in the corner that must had been dropped off in the last 24 hours. It’s overwhelming to think of not only what this little guy has in store for the coming years, but what his mother went through and continues to go through. Some of you may wonder why so many women leave their babies, a heartless and incomprehensible act to many of us Westerners. Allow me to explain a little bit of what I’ve learned.

Many of the children at the orphanage are born to prostitutes and majority of them are born out of wedlock. Women that become pregnant out of wedlock are quickly shunned by the community, and either asked to leave their town or leave on their own out of shame. Forget single parenthood; unless you’re divorced or widowed, you and your children are not accepted in the community. With an orphanage in all of the major cities, some of these women from smaller cities purposefully travel to a place where they know their child may have a chance at life.

Abandoning a child is a whole other challenge. As it is illegal in Morocco to abandon a child, it’s important for the women to leave a baby where they know someone will find it but where she won’t risk being known or caught out of fear of imprisonment. The medina, a busy and crowded location, is a popular place, as well as: hospitals, besides trash cans, and virtually anywhere where people will be guaranteed to be are prime locations here in Morocco.

So, some of you still may ask, “How could they ever do that?” While I don’t know the answer to that and I’m still baffled myself, I learned that unfortunately the story doesn’t stop there. It is common for the husband’s family to inspect bedding after a married couples first night together. If there is no evidence that she is a virgin, the consequences can be tragic. So despite being shunned from her community, moving to a city where she doesn’t know anyone, birthing a child by herself in a dangerous environment, and leaving the tiny being that she grew and brought into the world… Many of these women can never get married and have the family that they always dreamed of and are expected to have. Because of this, the women that weren’t prostitutes before tend to begin to prostitute to make a life for themselves. Don’t even get me started on the women who were impregnated from sexual assault and then blamed for the event!

I commend these women for going through such lengths to ensure their child has a chance. I can only imagine what the mother of the less than one day old newborn is feeling right now. God Bless her!

Yes, this is heavy stuff, and it’s probably not a lot of fun to read. I promise it’s not always like this here, and there have been some fun times as well. But I promised myself this blog would be about what’s on my heart, and not an “Everything is wonderful and I’m saving the children of Africa” blog. I’ll try to mix it up a little and tell you of all the awesome and fun things I’ve been doing as well tomorrow. For now, B’slaama and goodnight!

PS- Thanks to everyone for posting comments!! It totally makes my day to hear from you all!

“The love that lasts the longest is the love that is never returned” ~William Somerset Maugham

Happy Wednesday to you all!

The sun is shining, the wind is blowing, and it’s another beautiful day here in Africa. I have yet to use the sweatshirt and raincoat I brought; never mind the one long sleeve I brought “just in case”. After all, I’m in AFRICA!

Today was another eye-opening day at the orphanage. After feeding some super cute newborns, I made a mad dash down to the toddlers and took two little boys out today. Most of the girls are adopted by the age of 18mos, so it’s just a room full of boys and a few disabled girls. I was put in charge of Speed Racer and Koala Bear, otherwise known as Safeen and Nazir. Safeen spent his time running around watching me chase after him with his buddy on my hip. I was rescued by another volunteer and got to spend some time with my little Koala Bear.

Nazir latches onto you with both hands in a grip that can’t be broken. He has got to be about 15mos and his eyes are half-shut most of the time with the most sorrowful look on his face. The second you sit down, or, heaven forbid, set him down on the ground, he begins to let out this very sad little cry and usually won’t stop until you’re up and swaying again. Today was my first day with him and I decided to rock him sitting down and started singing to him,

“Draw me close to you,
Never let me go…”

His crying slowly dissipated and I continued to sing all the slow paced worship songs that came to mind. He leaned his little head on my chest as I continued to rock and sing. When I stopped he pulled his head back, looked up at me, and put his pointer finger on my lips and slowly opened my mouth again. When I started singing again his eyes locked onto watching my lips move, and then slowly moved his focus onto my eyes. My voice cracked, and tears started coming down my face as I looked into those sorrowful eyes! How I wish I could take all the pain away and lift the burden off of his tiny little shoulders.

“He loves us,
Oh how he loves us…”

It's hard not to get angry and question why such things are happening to such little souls. The only option is to have faith that it will get better for him. That he will be in the small 25% that will be adopted at one point in his childhood, and that someone will love him very very much.

Afterall, that's exactly what faith is; hope in that which we do not see.

"Every child born into the world is a new thought of God, an ever fresh and radiant possibility" ~Kate Douglas Wiggin

Today was Day 2 of my new schedule at the orphanage. It is SO MUCH BETTER than the class of the WWW! Allow me to back up…

The orphanage is an old hospital that is two stories. I’ve been on the first floor with the older children this whole time and was finally able to go upstairs and see the babies yesterday! Mohamed (our Country Director) led me into a large room separated into three smaller areas with…Drum roll, please… 38 newborns. The oldest can’t be more than four or five months old and the youngest are easily preemie and still not yet at their correct birth age (we’re talking days old and some less than 3lbs). I was quickly given a little girl of about 6 weeks and told to feed her a scorching hot bottle (for the moms out there, we’re talking 8oz 4+hours apart at just days old because they don’t have time to feed 40 newborns 2-4oz every 2 hours as we would back home). As she was sucking down her glass bottle with a giant plastic nipple that has an opening as long as the width of my fingernail, I tried to console Mustapha who was having a coronary over not getting his fix first.

It’s crazy. To think about how I ran to the little girl I nanny back home when she was a newborn at every and any random sound or squeak she made, and how there are now 15 newborns around me crying louder and harder than any sane person would ever want to hear… Well, it was a bit much to say the least. These kids don’t have a mom, dad, and nanny to run to their every need. At just days old, it’s already survival of the fittest and a competition. I tried to feed the babes as fast as I could and still give them some personal time before setting them back in their see-through plastic “You’ve just been born” crib before moving on to feed another starving face. After all the babies are fed the nurses shoo us out the door so they can sleep, and we move on to the toddlers down the hallway.

Yesterday I was in charge of a little black her named Iman who is said to be about 2 ½. She is absolutely gorgeous and just a kick to be around! She is one of the few girls left in her age group and I believe she has some sort of mentally disability because she still doesn’t talk at all (her disability means she will never be adopted). She knows what she wants though, and is a fast little bugger as she runs down the forbidden halls, clueless that I’m getting dirty looks and shakes of the finger from all the nurses! Today I was asked to take little Illyas out, who must be about 14 months and is not yet walking. It looks like he had some sort of leg surgery around his upper calf area, and I found a lump on his foot. I’m dying to know- was he given up after they found the lumps, or did he just get dealt a bad hand with being both an orphan and having some sort of illness that causes tumors?

The work continues to be a challenge, and I’m still beyond grateful that I’ve had this opportunity. As I walked into the newborn room, it was as I jumped in a time machine and could picture doing the same thing several years from now as an adoptive mother. I don’t know how it will work, when it will happen, and what the circumstances will be, but I am beyond certain that it WILL happen. There is no way I could ever walk away from what I’ve experienced in just these couple of weeks. I wish I could take the entire clan of 250+ plus at the orphanage home with me, but I will remain hopeful that one day (a long time from now), I will grow to love a similar little soul as my own.

I couldn’t be more excited!