Alfayn u 3chra

Stephanie came out to spend Christmas and New Year's with me-- her third trip to Amizmiz, the first being when we met last December at Ami's. It was a long-anticipated visit, as I had literally been counting down the days since her departure last May.

It was a nail-biting experience for the both of us as she waited to take her plane from London into Marrakech. Due to snow and bad weather, her initial flight was canceled and it didn't look like she'd be making it in any time soon with the holiday travel rush. It seemed for a bit there that our time would be cut frustratingly short, though just an agonizing day of waiting later, she miraculously made it over.

The visit was thankfully long and leisurely; we spent time cooking at my place, taking walks up the mountain road and the mountain itself, had lunch with TeaMaster and my good buddy Abdel Ali, saw the place where they turn olives into olive oil via horse, grinding stone, and press, a Moroccan cooking lesson, and had some good conversations with my friends and classmates from the neighborhood. Christmas Day evening we spent with Donniell, by the light of my humble fake tree adorned with dental floss strung popcorn, feasting on a holiday meal or our own creation, as well as three (three!) desserts prepared by my sitemate extraordinaire.

Several days after Christmas we left town for Taghazout, a small coastal town I had heard about from several other volunteers-- a supposedly quiet and beautiful place, perfect for a romantic seaside getaway in which to ring in the New Year. After a six-hour trip via bus, taxi, bus, taxi, and another bus, we rolled in to town. Some hasty negotiations for an apartment stay and an exploratory walk around later, we realized we had come to a trashy, smelly tourist trap overrun with surfers. We spent some time searching for those quiet beaches, but only found stretches with garbage literally strewn thickly across the shore. We did find a rocky area near a heavily trafficked and camel-ridden (yes) footpath on which we were able to watch a distant area of beautiful surf:

Over dinner that night at our candlelit table plagued by the subtle-but-pervasive bouquet of rotting fish, scraggly stray animals, and repeated visits by a paint-huffing local, we opted to bail out of town early the next morning in order to spend New Year's Eve at my cozy residence. The travel gods were not looking upon us favorably on the return trek, however, as every step of our journey was a headache. BUT we did make it back safe and sound, even watching the clock of my computer turn to midnight in the seconds before falling asleep. Thusly went our twenty-four hour romantic seaside getaway.

It was tough to part ways last Monday, and I've had a bit of post-visit blues, though I'm getting back into the swing of things now. There's lots to work on and keep busy with. I'm going to begin building a website for the Amizmiz cultural tourism project. Just as I had resumed attending my English class, we were informed that the landlord needed the garage we use as our classroom, and went to find a big padlock across the door bolt. Our scheduled time normally spent in class each evening has been temporarily replaced by nightly walks around the neighborhood until we acquire a new place.

Lots to look forward to (visit to San Francisco in May, anyone?); I'm excited about the project here, and everything to come this year. Onward...