Eid M'loud

Somehow, this vacation has been more restful than most. It came at a time when it was very needed. The winter lull has affected everyone at the school, students and teachers alike. Between the rain, report cards, seniors working on college applications, and the continual flow of lessons, homework, and tests, the students all needed a chance to re-energize.

I had the chance to spend a long day with Amina, go with her to the al-S'boua3, the celebration a family has for a new baby, for her neighbor (the baby's grandmother), spend a day showing off Fes for two sweet Polish university students who stayed with me, and train to Rabat with one of Amicitia's new volunteers to take photos of the ruins of Challah and the blue medina. I spent the train ride in the door, watching the countryside fly by, and was determined to swim in the ocean, despite the cold.

The cold was not the greatest deterrant from the ocean paddle. The afternoon sun was thin through the winter clouds, but a greater threat was the ocean itself, still caught in the throes of the recent rainstorms. The waves crashing against the shoreline were nothing but fear-inspiring. As tall as buildings, they came from both diagonals, ripping through each other like a pack of dogs fighting over nothing, for sheer bloodthirsty instinct. The waves were large enough to hide mountainous rock features on the beach, revealing them in the trough of the waves like knives. Though it was daylight, the water seemed to suck up the sunlight and reflect back nothing. I have never seen an ocean so murderous and powerful.

Once, while backpacking in the Sierra's with Dad and Rachel, we were hit by a lightening storm on our way down a mountain. Isolated in the rock field, we had no cover and no protection from the storm. Watching the immense storm surrounding us, I saw for the first time that Nature could kill me.

In Rabat this week, the children playing between the concrete barriers on the beach and the lighthouse foundation ran past yelling, 'les vagues tuees! les vagues tuees!" The killer waves. Standing in my sweater and swim-pants with the water ripping past my ankles, I felt that power a second time. Those waves would have killed me. It was so beautiful.

The train on the way back to Fes was standing room only - I stood in the little aisle by the compartments with some students and an American tourist couple, chatting until we got to my city. I visited Candace and Suzanne, and finished some lesson planning for school. I am excited for school to start again, with new plans for classes to inspire learning and curiosity, and fresh patience and love for the students that I care so much for.