Going on seven.

*Please note that I wrote this blog entry on January 22. I promise to start updating more frequently. Internet access is spotty, but my schedule is starting to normalize slightly, so I can get access. Everything is great after five weeks in Morocco, but here is more about my first week!:

I'm not sure if I've ever had such a whirlwind of a week before. Seven days ago I departed for the biggest challenge and adventure of my life. I said goodbye to my parents and my brother in a small train station with lots of tears and laughter and began the first leg of my journey. Sitting in a small hotel room in the Rabat, the capital of Morocco, it's almost inconceivable that that moment was in the recent past.

After watching the rolling hills of my beautiful home state pass away, the train pulled into downtown Philadelphia. The journey was quick, as a fellow Peace Corps invitee and I chatted the entire trip about our expectations, fears, and pasts. Amazing Thai and Indian food were my last meals in the US. I know I'll be craving curry soon! Monday was a significant day, because I officially became a Peace Corps Trainee when I registered for my first day of training. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Peace Corps designations, I will technically be a Peace Corps Trainee (PCT) until I am sworn in on April 4, 2014, as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). Peace Corps makes it very clear to us that we are not yet volunteers and could still not be chosen for service if we do not perform adequately during the pre-service training. Monday was overwhelming, because we had a tight schedule of ice breakers, lots of introductions, and plenty of logistical information required to get a group of 104 people (and all of their luggage from Philadelphia to Rabat. Seeing the rest of the group in one room for the first time was both frightening and exhilarating. It was the first time we laid eyes upon each other, but we all knew that we were about the embark on something that only the person next to us and across from us would really understand. We will be each other's best friends. And that is certainly the truth. I have never bonded with such a large, diverse group so quickly and so seamlessly. I can assure you all the Peace Corps does an incredible and diligent job in every aspect of picking people to invite for training. Everyone is bright, quirky, interesting, unique, and versatile. I've talked to almost everyone at this point, and I know we're all going to work well together in Morocco.

Tuesday was a logisitcal nightmare that somehow worked out fine! After a quick trip to karaoke and an early night to get up to finish packing,the group split into three to board buses to JFK International Airport in New York City. The hotel staff was flawless in getting all of our checked luggage quickly onto the buses, and our carry-on luggage filled the aisles and seats of the bus. Somehow I got one of the few empty seats on the bus next to me and leaned on a pile of luggage for that leg of the trip. Rain and mist obscured my last memories of the US, but it was still to see the grey silhouette of the World Trade Center sticking into the clouds in the distance as we barreled past Manhattan. I felt a lot of peace in those moments thinking about the pain inflicted on my country by an evil group of people and truly hope that my service will in some way open at least a few minds and hearts to people of different religious and cultural backgrounds. That bus ride was when what I was about to do deeply hit me. I had little time to dwell in those thoughts, as I had volunteered to carry half of my buses passports from Philadelphia to NYC to avoid people losing them, and believe me that I was terrified of losing 15 peoples' passports. Within moments of the buses pulling up to the curb, suitcases were piled high, and dozens of us were running around trying to find our luggage. My smaller suitcase was not where it should have been, which caused a moment of panic (similar to when I left my carry-on on the train in Philadelphia and had to make a mad dash to get back downstairs and retrieve it!). After more than an hour of waiting at the counter for the Royal Air Maroc staff to arrive, we began to check in. As per usual, a relief to have a surname that starts A-b-a. I was with the first group of seven through security and got to mingle with others for four hours at the gate until we boarded the plane for Morocco. Being on that place was surreal. We filled about half of the plane, and you can imagine the energy!

Running on approximately three hours of sleep and dazed from five hours of jetlag, we pulled our luggage from the claim and crammed into a number of other buses for the hour and a half ride to Rabat from Casablanca International Airport. The hotel was way beyond what I had expected. We even have warm showers. The past few days have been the most overwhelming of course. It has been an unending, blurred timeline of shots, icebreakers, Arabic classes, thunderstorms, medical interviews, delicious food (yes, it's almost all vegan so far!), dehydration, Roman ruins, laughter with new friends, storytelling, filling out forms, and I could go on. Perhaps the most interesting information at this point for everyone is that I know more about my near future! I will be leaving Rabat on Thursday morning to take a two hour trip to a small town called Ain Cheggag (population 2,000ish). It is approximately 30-45 minutes south of Fes. I will be in Ain Chegag until the beginning of April doing intense language and cultural training and living with a Moroccan host family. Five other Peace Corps Trainees will be with me, and we will work as a team to create lessons, meet local leaders, work with the youth (typically ages 10-30 in Morocco...basically youth is any unmarried person). A current volunteer I met Friday who did his Community Based Training (CBT) in Ain Cheggag described it as "The Dark Days of CBT." I will not elaborate further on the dreadful stories he told me, but please think of me in the next few weeks! :)

As I imagine will be the case for the next fews weeks, I have so much to say and so little time to write. I promise to keep detailed notes of my experiences to post later even when I don't have Internet access. Masalaama.