Beyond Ramadan

On my way back to site from a day trip into the city on September 9th, I heard whisperings of the next day being l3id sghir, the holiday celebrating the end of Ramadan. Sure enough, the following morning white djellaba'd men filled the streets, calls echoed from the mosques, and I found myself at a neighbor's house, wide-eyed and buzzing as glass after glass of tooth dissolvingly sweet tea coursed through my veins.

I had ended my fast several days prior, due to a weird stomach issue and the Peace Corps doctor's recommendation that I resume eating as normal. Oh well-- close enough, right?

Things have returned to normalcy relatively quickly, it seems. School will be starting before long, and the roundabout at the main entrance to town, a popular between-class hangout, is already filled with loitering youth. Cafés are packed with men half-hidden behind a veil of cigarette smoke, and the streets are a-bustling with the drones of motorbikes and groans of transport vans. People have resumed conversing with one another beneath my windows at great length and maximum volume, often from tens of feet apart. Nice to see some life back into everything.

I'm anticipating my friend Abderrahim's return any day now. As I wrote previously, he's been working near Rabat for most of the summer but will return to continue his studies at university in Marrakech. Also attending will be my good buddy and cousin of Abderrahim, Aziz, who passed the ominous "Baccalaureate" exam this past spring. Aziz has only left Amizmiz a handful of times in his entire life, despite being twenty-two. As a result, he has no stomach for vehicular transportation and tends to spend the duration of his rides heaving into plastic bags, much as he did on the two hour, four bus round-trip fun-time excursion to register for classes last week. Poor guy. It's going to be a rough commute every day, but I hope he will adjust quickly. He does, too.

September 9th also happened to mark the two year anniversary of my stage's arrival in country, which is a strange fact to process. People ask whether the time has passed quickly or slowly, to which I can never articulate an answer. The passing of time has been quite the enigma of my Peace Corps experience, tending to expand and contract, accelerate and slow, and in retrospect, often seeming like all simultaneously. Recalling those first days and months, it feels like so long ago, yet I remember it as crisply and vividly as though it were yesterday (erm, perhaps even more so)-- the grand mystique in everything that has since become the mundane. I still glimpse it often, though these days it comes as a passing appreciation rather than sustained awe. Family and places back home have remained familiar as always, but life before Morocco feels truly like another existence entirely.

September 12th marked two months until COS! I'm officially done November 12th and fly out the 13th. I've started to have dreams about it, even. I must be excited. Beginning later this month and continuing into early October we'll have COS conference in Rabat, which involves prepping for departure, wrapping up this and that, and medical/dental checkups. Fingers crossed for two years of remaining parasite free!