The past month was a busy one. After the Holy Month of Ramadan everything picked up. School went at its regular pace. La3id, the holiday after Ramadan was a three day celebration. All people dressed in their best clothes. Women had a hawaj-a circle of singing and dancing which started early and lasted until dusk. This time the fall came upon us in southern Morocco. The fall has not been what I envisioned. Rain has come and turned my town green. Some say this is the most rain ever while other say this is the most we have received in 2 years. The river that runs through my village was so full it flowed straight through the main road, which is the only paved road. The grass that is being grown is going to the local cows. People are preparing the fields for growing. Its interesting as things are reversed in my view. Fall has awoken the people of the town and once again I continue to learn about this village.

My work has also picked up as well. After receiving permission from the Delegate of Education, I began teaching Health Education Classes in my local schools. At first this was daunting for me but the children loved my lasted visual aide. It was a piece of cardboard with a tree and the students placed pictures of health messages on it. It  was so successful that some students have been coming back the last few weeks. I also  have been working with the local association to help cover a well a local neighborhood. The people of my village are eager to improve the    village and it reinforces my role. I also love to learn stories and history of my village.   The more I ask the more I learn.

This month I visited Aglou, a beach located 15k from Tiznit Center. It is a small town often overlooked my tourist’s. The current is strong and only the brave go for a swim. I visit this area because its idruss-or sparse. Sometimes its nice to be in the solitude of the ocean and enjoy it. This day I met the local men from the Souq- market. One told me that he was a Berber Palm reader. He told me that I have  lost the love of my life and that I would find the next and have children with him but never marry. When I asked him why he said the rivers of my hands, or the lines, didn’t finish that way. The entire time I sat there with the other men of the market I looked around and felt that I had  a connection to this land. After, a friend a I went to see the caves of Aglou. The fishermen   live in them. The majority  dug holes in the coral to make  their homes but some really do live in caves. It was like a dream walking along the ocean only inhabited by the fishermen. It was one of the memories that will live with me for years.

The more I meet people and open up to them the more Morocco is  apart of me. Being far away means less because the memories Ihave made live with me as will the current ones.