In times of challenge, we grow. When presented with obstacles, our determination is sharpened. When faced with adversity, we find strength we never knew we had.
I have never been more thankful to be home. The first week back at school passed with little difficulty - an unanticipated treasure, as all teachers can verify. Somehow the rooms full of students accustomed to sleeping late, eating snacks consistently all day, and tackling intellectual challenges no more difficult than composing a decent argument to get your neighbor to give back the soccer ball, quietly re-focused themselves on their studies.
I am thankful for my students this week, and the honesty and kindness they show.
The Algebra class greatly enjoyed a game that I borrowed from the fourth grade teacher, "Stump the Chump." Although none of the groups managed to make an equation that I couldn't solve, they participated enthusiastically, and there was some creative number manipulation devised. The three physics students who entered my class halfway through the year are catching up, and at least catching on to the necessary basics, a good start for now. They showed significant respect for lab equipment and sharing with each other in a Hooke's Law Spring Constant Calculation Lab. In equation-of-the-day news, the 7th grade has now defeated the 12th grade *twice* in the number of valid equations discovered on any one day! They have gotten very creative!
A few groups of foreign guests came through this weekend, and I really enjoyed dancing until after midnight with the folk dancers who stayed at my apartment - sunny young girls who spoke eloquently floral French.
Guests always indicate medina tours, and never fail to bring some small adventure to the day! The weekend was sunny and warm. Though I worry for what the spring will yield with the absence of the month-long rain we should be experiencing now, I must admit to fully enjoying the sunshine that melts over every ancient wall and street. The noise and bustle of the medina just glows brighter today, and the warm sunshine matches the warmth in the smiles of familiar faces along the streets.
I met one traveler near the main gate in the medina; I knew he was waiting a few minutes, but the area is interesting to the point of sensory overload. When I approached, I could pick him out immediately: shorts, backpack, overwhelmed facial expression. At least he wasn't alone; the waiter at a nearby restaurant was speaking quickly with him, holding up several menus, trying to convince the poor man that he REALLY REALLY did want to eat lunch now, because at this restaurant he would get the family price. I have seen this man say the same thing to every tourist for the last year, although we have never actually had a conversation ourselves. When I approached to rescue this traveler, the waiter responded joyously, "Oh you are with her! I known her since longtime! She is very good, very good guide. She is like my sister, I know her! Well, I never talk to her, but I see her all times! Since longtime I see her!" I was too busy trying not to laugh to even respond.
Being here makes me take joy in life again, and I grow stronger for it.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Read This With An English Accent
First impression of London: cold. As I de-planed, I found my Moroccan slippers entirely submerged in the snow. Also my hands, as I had to make snowballs to defend myself from the Brazillian peace corps volunteers I had flown with, and a full-on snowball fight broke out on the tarmac.
Second impression of London: big. Though my airport is supposedly 'in' London, the train still took about an hour to reach center city. I chatted with a friendly Londoner on the ride, and she burst out laughing after my first sentence. She spent the next hour trying to teach me to soften my apparently terrible American accent. Once in center-city, I thought it would be easy to find the family I was to stay with. In my city, I can walk from one side to another given about an hour and a half. Not in London! The underground had stopped running, so I ended up on a bus to another station. Still not there, I then had a half hour rail ride before I reached, not even to a place I could walk from, but to an area where my host could retrieve me in a car!
Third impression of London: pedestrian-friendly. Despite its absolute massiveness, once I learned my way about, the underground and rail lines actually proved quite kind. Busses, however, remained a success only when travelling with locals.
I stayed 4 days more than planned in London, and I feel I hit all the important tourist sites. However, I do recognize that said claim opens me up to a barrage of 'did you see this?' and 'did you do that?' so allow me a list before I elaborate.
What I did in London:
Natural History Museum
Science Museum
Telephone Box
Ice Skating Rink
Hampton Court
Westminster Abby
Big Ben
Buckingham Palace
King's Cross Station
London Bridge
Shakespeare's Globe
Southwark Bridge and Cathedral
Tower Bridge
Clapham Common Park
London Eye (big ferris wheel)
St Paul's Cathedral (went to evensong service)
London Zoo
Regents Park
Epsom Downs Raceway
And many nights of salsa dancing!
The family I stayed with, a mum with 3 grown kids, one with his own daughter of 4 years, was so generous and hospitable with me. They live in one of the 'sub-cities' of London, so I got a bit of the cozy town experience as well, on nights when I wasn't salsa dancing.
I also got to drive a London black cab! Only took about a minute for me to come out of a roundabout on the right side - I mean, the *wrong* side - of the road, and for the family's son to realize that it was probably a bad plan to let the American/Moroccan at the wheel. I really couldn't get used to getting into the left door of the car, during the course of the entire week and a half, that threw me off.
Two days before Christmas, I took the bus to Leicester to meet Evan and Nic, friends from uni that I haven't seen in far too long. Nic's family lives in Leicester, and she also has extended family in Ilkley moors, in the north. Evan and I trained to Ilkley to meet them the following day, since the car was full, and had a very picturesque afternoon walking around the cute little snowy town!
Simon and Wendy's house is perched on the hillside looking down into the bowl of the town of Ilkley, built like an oceanfront beach house, but lost on a mountaintop. Wendy told me that, after looking at the house, they just knew it was the right one. However, when asked to describe it later, they couldn't recall a single detail about the structure itself - only the view.
We ate heavy English food, all deliciously savory, and Nic's little sister Alice educated me in the ways of the English. Christmas presents were opened in a frantic mass of chaos, with all 11 people diving simultaneously under the tree and tearing wrapping paper right and left. Since this didn't take very long, we all went for an afternoon walk. Alice informed me that a proper English hike must involve walking to a pub, so we drove off to the next hillside where we could stroll among the mountains and cliffs on our way to a pub that looked like the wicked witch of the west had just dropped it out of a tornado in the middle of nowhere. The snow on the ground was soft powder, and we all slipped and slid along the semi-treaturous terrain with all the other English people who had the same idea of this particular hillside hike/pub.
Our hike was in vain, as the pub was not open, and we were left to enjoy only the beautiful views off the rocky cliff, and the snowy countryside, and shuffle back to the car before our feet froze to the ground.
The day after Christmas is Boxing day, and it is a National Bank Holiday in England. This means that nobody does anything, maybe even more so than on Christmas day. I was due to fly back to Fes on Boxing day. Listen to how well-planned this was: I had a coach that left me 4 hours in London before my flight. During that 4 hours, I was to take the Underground, if it was running, or a citybus, if not, to the rail station where I could catch the Express Rail service to the airport and arrive in plenty of time.
Well. The coach was about an hour late ariving in London. The Underground was, of course, not running. The bus was somehow not going to the right place, to I ended up in a cab to the rail, where I discovered that the rail service was on strike. I resigned. Surely four more days in London wouldn't be the end of the world.
It was an absolutely lovely time.
I got back to some tourist attractions I hadn't seen the first time, and eventually met up with Tracey and the same family I had stayed with before, who once again offered me their generous hospitality! By the last day, I actually felt I could navigate my way through the city fairly effectively, most of my navigation centering either around the Victoria Rail Station, or the salsa club by Tottenham Court. London is a late-night city, and I enjoyed taking advantage of the activity!
When it was finally time to fly home, I must admit to feeling some sense of loss at leaving London and the English culture and people. Arriving in London felt so very foreign, but it must be reasonably close to America, because it felt comfortable by the time I left. I boarded the plane, dragging my feet ever so slightly, ready to sit silently in my seat and just sleep so I wouldn't have to watch the city dissapear out from under me.
I immediately encountered a tiff between an older Moroccan gentleman and a flight attendant in need of a translator, and was able to help. In the first few rows, I saw Sue and Larry, who had also been on my flight TO London, and greeted them. I shuffled back through the aisle, searching for a seat, and saw a space next to a familiar voice in a red coat: my school's fourth grade teacher, Kirsten, who grew up in Saudi and was on her way back from her family's house in Scotland! My spirits rose so much in that five minutes of getting on the plane; it felt like being personally welcomed back to Fes, the city of a million people, where you can't walk down the main street, or even get on an airplane, without meeting someone you know.
My mood continued to lift as I talked with Kirsten on the flight home, just to remember the amazing people that I had left in my city. Fes, it seems, just attracts exceptional people, and I am so thankful for the friends that I have here. I like coming home to a place where the system is familiar. I feel I belong in Fes.
Second impression of London: big. Though my airport is supposedly 'in' London, the train still took about an hour to reach center city. I chatted with a friendly Londoner on the ride, and she burst out laughing after my first sentence. She spent the next hour trying to teach me to soften my apparently terrible American accent. Once in center-city, I thought it would be easy to find the family I was to stay with. In my city, I can walk from one side to another given about an hour and a half. Not in London! The underground had stopped running, so I ended up on a bus to another station. Still not there, I then had a half hour rail ride before I reached, not even to a place I could walk from, but to an area where my host could retrieve me in a car!
Third impression of London: pedestrian-friendly. Despite its absolute massiveness, once I learned my way about, the underground and rail lines actually proved quite kind. Busses, however, remained a success only when travelling with locals.
I stayed 4 days more than planned in London, and I feel I hit all the important tourist sites. However, I do recognize that said claim opens me up to a barrage of 'did you see this?' and 'did you do that?' so allow me a list before I elaborate.
What I did in London:
Natural History Museum
Science Museum
Telephone Box
Ice Skating Rink
Hampton Court
Westminster Abby
Big Ben
Buckingham Palace
King's Cross Station
London Bridge
Shakespeare's Globe
Southwark Bridge and Cathedral
Tower Bridge
Clapham Common Park
London Eye (big ferris wheel)
St Paul's Cathedral (went to evensong service)
London Zoo
Regents Park
Epsom Downs Raceway
And many nights of salsa dancing!
The family I stayed with, a mum with 3 grown kids, one with his own daughter of 4 years, was so generous and hospitable with me. They live in one of the 'sub-cities' of London, so I got a bit of the cozy town experience as well, on nights when I wasn't salsa dancing.
I also got to drive a London black cab! Only took about a minute for me to come out of a roundabout on the right side - I mean, the *wrong* side - of the road, and for the family's son to realize that it was probably a bad plan to let the American/Moroccan at the wheel. I really couldn't get used to getting into the left door of the car, during the course of the entire week and a half, that threw me off.
Two days before Christmas, I took the bus to Leicester to meet Evan and Nic, friends from uni that I haven't seen in far too long. Nic's family lives in Leicester, and she also has extended family in Ilkley moors, in the north. Evan and I trained to Ilkley to meet them the following day, since the car was full, and had a very picturesque afternoon walking around the cute little snowy town!
Simon and Wendy's house is perched on the hillside looking down into the bowl of the town of Ilkley, built like an oceanfront beach house, but lost on a mountaintop. Wendy told me that, after looking at the house, they just knew it was the right one. However, when asked to describe it later, they couldn't recall a single detail about the structure itself - only the view.
We ate heavy English food, all deliciously savory, and Nic's little sister Alice educated me in the ways of the English. Christmas presents were opened in a frantic mass of chaos, with all 11 people diving simultaneously under the tree and tearing wrapping paper right and left. Since this didn't take very long, we all went for an afternoon walk. Alice informed me that a proper English hike must involve walking to a pub, so we drove off to the next hillside where we could stroll among the mountains and cliffs on our way to a pub that looked like the wicked witch of the west had just dropped it out of a tornado in the middle of nowhere. The snow on the ground was soft powder, and we all slipped and slid along the semi-treaturous terrain with all the other English people who had the same idea of this particular hillside hike/pub.
Our hike was in vain, as the pub was not open, and we were left to enjoy only the beautiful views off the rocky cliff, and the snowy countryside, and shuffle back to the car before our feet froze to the ground.
The day after Christmas is Boxing day, and it is a National Bank Holiday in England. This means that nobody does anything, maybe even more so than on Christmas day. I was due to fly back to Fes on Boxing day. Listen to how well-planned this was: I had a coach that left me 4 hours in London before my flight. During that 4 hours, I was to take the Underground, if it was running, or a citybus, if not, to the rail station where I could catch the Express Rail service to the airport and arrive in plenty of time.
Well. The coach was about an hour late ariving in London. The Underground was, of course, not running. The bus was somehow not going to the right place, to I ended up in a cab to the rail, where I discovered that the rail service was on strike. I resigned. Surely four more days in London wouldn't be the end of the world.
It was an absolutely lovely time.
I got back to some tourist attractions I hadn't seen the first time, and eventually met up with Tracey and the same family I had stayed with before, who once again offered me their generous hospitality! By the last day, I actually felt I could navigate my way through the city fairly effectively, most of my navigation centering either around the Victoria Rail Station, or the salsa club by Tottenham Court. London is a late-night city, and I enjoyed taking advantage of the activity!
When it was finally time to fly home, I must admit to feeling some sense of loss at leaving London and the English culture and people. Arriving in London felt so very foreign, but it must be reasonably close to America, because it felt comfortable by the time I left. I boarded the plane, dragging my feet ever so slightly, ready to sit silently in my seat and just sleep so I wouldn't have to watch the city dissapear out from under me.
I immediately encountered a tiff between an older Moroccan gentleman and a flight attendant in need of a translator, and was able to help. In the first few rows, I saw Sue and Larry, who had also been on my flight TO London, and greeted them. I shuffled back through the aisle, searching for a seat, and saw a space next to a familiar voice in a red coat: my school's fourth grade teacher, Kirsten, who grew up in Saudi and was on her way back from her family's house in Scotland! My spirits rose so much in that five minutes of getting on the plane; it felt like being personally welcomed back to Fes, the city of a million people, where you can't walk down the main street, or even get on an airplane, without meeting someone you know.
My mood continued to lift as I talked with Kirsten on the flight home, just to remember the amazing people that I had left in my city. Fes, it seems, just attracts exceptional people, and I am so thankful for the friends that I have here. I like coming home to a place where the system is familiar. I feel I belong in Fes.
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