I knew exactly what was in that water and sought to convince people, however clear the water may look, that they had better find a better source, or at least treat their water with readily available chlorine bleach. I punched a hole in the bottom of a small bucket, rigged it up so it would drain through a trough, and so made a small, running river. I fashioned characters, first out of vegetables, later out of wood, that represented women washing in the stream, sheep wading through it, and a mule that would "pee" mint tea (through a syringe) and "dump" coffee beans right in the water. Another figurine woman, downstream from all this action, gathered water for her family. I made this model fully collapsible and toted it to a health education tent we erected in the souk, in the schools, and on week-long hikes to distant villages in the mountains. No matter how awkward my speech was, this visual aid got the point across. People laughed, and almost everyone agreed that there was, indeed, "sickness" in the water. Change, of course, is slow, and it seemed that no one had started treating their water. But people had listened, several families did start chlorinating their water, and most local school children now know that one drop of bleach treats one liter of water.

This kind of "living with the Berbers" approach to development is unique to the Peace Corps. Many organizations, based in a capital city, will drive up in their Mercedes, conduct a high-profile, cameras-flashing, one-day tour of a village, and drop down a piece of the latest technology, designed to solve the peasants' problems. The officials drive away, leaving no sense of understanding or ownership on the part of the people. When this "toy" inevitably breaks, no one knows how to fix it, and people sit, waiting for the government to return with better equipment. The Peace Corps, on the other hand, maintains a low-tech approach, emphasizing the development of the people, so that they can learn how to catch that proverbial "fish."

I remember well one state-side criticism of the Peace Corps, that it is an organization of "culture killers" geared to "Americanize" the Third World. I can't disagree more strongly with this view. All Moroccans know about the West, and many are quite envious of it. But few things can shake their image of the Marlboro Man: an American who speaks Berber and rolls couscous with his hand. Moroccans generally have a very high opinion of Americans, especially in comparison to their primary trading partner, the French. To a large extent, this is due to contact with Peace Corps volunteers, who really are the only foreigners who take the effort to truly learn about the local culture and instill pride in the maintenance of traditional ways. Peace Corps volunteers provide a "reality check" in the Third World by trying to strengthen the local people, not the myth of the West.

As Americans living in Morocco, there are definitely some perks that work in our favor; but above all we are a minority, of different speech, habits, and religion. After almost three years of breaking down many of these barriers, I still felt very much an outsider. Integration is a difficult concept, one that is just as awkward for the newcomer as for the host. Especially as a person representing the world of money in a land of peasant farmers, it was impossible to feel truly at ease. But what is remarkable is the extent to which I did feel sincerely welcomed among this people so removed from my own. I earned a high degree of trust and respect from them, and was thus privy to a great freedom. I relished those hikes through the High Atlas Mountains, stripped of my past, carrying little in my bags but my confidence in a foreign tongue and my faith in the local hospitality. My greatest joy, as expressed by Si Abderrahmen, was learning how to pack a warm lunch for the road.

Steve Carlson completed his stint in the Peace Corps and returned to the United States. He is now attending Yale Law School. Carlson says he's planning to specialize in international law but is wary of a career that entails too much country-hopping: "Traveling, with all its advantages, is very exhausting and something I would not want to dominate my life." Instead, Carlson says he hopes to become involved in international environmental issues. While at Reed, Carlson was active in Reed Recycling.