Rabat

So, about six months into service, we's all gots ta go to Rabat to have a week-long conference meant to provide additional training. Here are some of the highlights:

- England-USA game. The last night in town, we went to a British pub in town hoping there would be some opposing fans at which to yell crap like "No taxation without representation" and "1812." Sadly, the place was packed with neutral Moroccans and other idiots who had the same thought process as we did. Apparently, it never occurred to us that any legit, die-hard Brit who would indulge in infantile screaming matches with us would not be caught dead in a country with few pubs and no ties to the World Cup during his team's opener. Still, screaming at nobody is kinda fun.

- 20 minute discussion about lotion. During a medical session with one of the new doctors, it was revealed that due to a change in shipping restrictions concerning liquids, we as PCVs would no longer be allowed to ask for free lotion to fulfill our medical needs. The fact that we were initially permitted to do this was news to me but the heated discussion that followed was even more ludicrous. It was during this period that one of the all time greatest interrupters (we shall call this person K) shone through with a brilliant performance. Combatant, alienating, and irrational, K displayed exactly why there is a drinking game based on his/her number of irrelevant outbursts. I mean, lets ignore the fact that the person being vented on is a trained medical professional with many years experience working in developing countries, how can K possibly be expected to continue service without a steady supply of imported lotion courtesy of US tax dollars? Towards the end of the rambling, I heard someone behind me mumble "Forget dryness, 'hey lady, what the heck am I supposed to jerk off with?'" Finally, someone was addressing the issues.

- Party at the Marine house. Having been assigned the sweetest gig of all time, several Marines live in an absolutely pimped out house in Rabat and regularly throw parties featuring subsidized, high quality booze. I feel like there is no need to explain why drinking Guinness, playing hoops and eating free food all at one party was notable.

- Prom. Yes, we threw a prom. Yes, it was awesome.

- Trip to visit an Association called Humanity without Borders. This was interesting and informative but the whole endeavor was overshadowed by the grafiti we noticed about 5 seconds into the visit. Like most major cities, Sale (next to Rabat) has a football team, one which abbreviates its name into a three letter acronym. Also like most clubs, Association Sportive de Sale has a group of supporters who feel the need to call themselves something. For example, all three dozen of the U.S. national team's ardent fans refer to themselves as Sam's Army. Sale's passionate bunch chose the moniker Pirates. So everywhere in this neighborhood, shakily scrawled on walls, was the phrase "ASS Pirates." Just thought that was worth mentioning.