I really enjoy hiking. So, I guess I’m lucky that it’s part of my job here! Didn’t stop me from dreading leaving last Saturday for the 20+ km hike ahead of me… I was mostly dreading it because of the time of day we ended up leaving: 2pm, the hottest part of the day. I pack two small water bottles of water, but that doesn’t last long in the heat of the day when you are hiking over the steep and dusty land. The air here is so dry! 40% humidity is considered rather high.
The hike itself is one I’ve already made a few times. The valley I was heading for is part of the SIBE (or Site of Ecological Importance… only in French with something that ‘B’ stands for…) that is a focus of my placement here. Environmental volunteers are supposed to help with the preservation/conservation/elucidation of purpose for these SIBE’s. So I know this path. I know the first sharp climb, the slow rise of the plateau to the gulley that cuts steeply through the bowl of high mountains and providing a steep and exposed path up to the high face of the mountain. I know the turn around the shoulder of the mountain, and the three scalloped valleys the path cuts across, and I know the long descent through the sparse forest into the grazing grounds on the other side. Really it’s only 10 km away, as the crow flies, and I know that’s really not that far. I also knew I wasn’t in quite as good a shape as one might hope if one was trying to keep up with your sheepherder escort… in the heat of the day.
He set a very reasonable pace for me though. And we stopped to rest at the water cistern at the top of the plateau, and wonder of wonders, there was a mule coming up the path behind us. We gratefully threw our backpacks into its carry-basket and joined the two girls who had been riding it. They got off for the passage of the gully. It’s steep and exposed, yes, but also the footing is bad. All sliding rocks and gravel and dust and sharp turns in tricky spots. If your mule goes down (and they do sometimes) it’s best not to be on them if they slide of the path and down the mountain a bit. We made the passage uneventfully, and I began my arguments with my sheepherder guide. He wanted me to ride the mule, and was unwilling to take the place of the two young girls who were having a harder time keeping up with him than I. I did give in for a bit, but that was (in that moment anyway) less about being tired and more about enjoying riding something vaguely horselike.
We made the decent through the trees, and left the girls and their mule at their families tent, and made our way across the valley. I was practically running to keep up with my shepherd. And then we turned with the path. Up. Straight up, for a final mile and a half (a couple of km) at about a 25% to 30% grade. It felt like 45%, I swear! After 4 hours of hiking, riding, and trying to keep up I was TIRED. For some reason, my hip flexors seemed to be taking the entirety of the load, because the rest of my legs were only mildly tired. It hurt to lift my legs, though, and so I just kept on, step by step. Counting the boulders as we passed them till we finally came to our destination: the tent of the president of an association I work. There I dropped my bag on the floor and collapsed, exhausted. It was all I could do not to lie down right there, but I knew that would inspire worried words… as it was they were exhorting me not to die. Which I was nowhere near doing, for the record. I have had a much harder time breathing after many a track sprint workout, thank you!
On the way back, GPS information gathered, I made the hike by myself. I enjoyed it, stopping in the shade, looking about me to really enjoy the sweeping vistas obscured only by the summer heat haze, and even taking pictures like a tourist! I veered off the path to look at a big cap of rock and enjoy the view. And I still made the hike in just over 4 1/2 hours. Which was about how much time it had taken me and the shepherd the day before. This time, though, I wasn’t exhausted. I even had enough energy to dance at the final stage of my neighbor’s wedding!
Friday, July 24, 2009
poof
Poof!
This is what I used to always say upon turning around and finding that a close friend of mine had disappeared into thin air. “She poofed!” I would exclaim. Well, the month of June just poofed. Between an end-of-May early June trip to Meknes with Anthony, mid-service medicals in conjunction with the Rabat Jazz Festival, and site visit (when my Program Manager or his assistant come to my site to give everyone a kick in the butt), June just about evaporated!
It was fun, though. There are volumes I could write about each; so many interesting places, great music, epic wild goose chases, and even a couple opportunities to see people really inspired.
A synopsis:
Meknes is great, it’s like Fez only chilled out. Fez is big, and full to overflowing with tourists this time of year. Meknes is smaller, has fewer tourists and feels a little more affluent for some reason… but you can find perfectly affordable hotels there nonetheless. Even on a Peace Corps budget. J Nearby are the city of Moulay Idris and the Roman ruins called Volubilis. Moulay Idris is one of the most holy cities in Morocco, and Moroccans and Arabs from other places alike take pilgrimages there. I happened to be wearing a headscarf to hide from the sun, and Anthony happened to be sporting a beard, and we had a very difficult time convincing a man that we weren’t Muslims, and therefore could not go into the mosque there. It’s truly lovely, perched on a hill with cliffs on one side of it. Volubilis is… well to paraphrase a friend “AWESOOMMMEEE!!!!!” No, seriously, it’s cool. It’s an extensive set of ruins that have been partially rebuilt but are largely open to wandering around. With nothing but a guidebook in hand and sunscreen and a water bottle, you can explore that place all day quite happily. There is MUCH to see, and most of it isn’t roped off at all. You might as well be the first person to stumble across that nearly pristine mosaic of Venus in the ruins of an old house, and you can sit on the steps of the old forum and watch the storks feeding their chicks in their huge nest built atop an old column in the ruins of the basilica.
Mid-service Medicals… what is that? Well, that’s when volunteers who have been in-country for a year go to the Peace Corps medical staff for a check-up or, as the case may be, a tune-up. We get screened for parasites, go to the dentist, have a physical, etc. It’s fun, though, because the entire stage (the group I came to Morocco with) gathers, and we get to hang out! This happens infrequently. Most fortunately, our MSM’s happened right near the time the annual Rabat jazz festival, Jazz au Chellah, occurred. Jazz au Chellah hosts many musicians from Europe, Morocco and Sub-Saharan Africa. Some of the artists are forgettable, but some are amazing. Each night they pair an artist from Europe and/or Sub-Saharan Africa with and artist from Morocco. At the end of the night the play together, and it can be really, really awesome. This is the second year I have been lucky enough to attend. Also exciting about Rabat was a trip to the beach. An adventure that included city buses, taxis, advice from taxis, a long walk to find a place to change into a swimming suit, and a big beach full of Moroccans, with rocks on either side and a powerful rip current in the middle. We volunteers had fun exploring both Rabat and some other towns nearby more fully. I went on another city-bus adventure to find a friend from my site who usually lives in Rabat. Moroccans are so helpful! I had nothing but a slip of paper with my phonetic scramble of the words my friend gave me to get the right bus, and by asking directions, people got me to the right bus station, right bus, and the right stop. It was magical when I got to an unremarkable market way outside of the city to see her standing there in jellaba and hajib to greet me, calling my name to make sure I got off the bus! Lunch and tea and then return to the city for a stage meeting with Program Manager…
Who shortly thereafter arrived at my humble abode (site) in the mountains. I spent a good bit of time prior to his arrival running around and making phone calls trying to get meetings arranged for him. When he did come, we were off and running immediately. Four meetings in one day, but it was worth it! Or, well… some of it was definitely worth it, and some of it was frustrating. Some projects are moving forward steadily, some are brand new and exciting, and one is frustrating because the members of this one association can’t seem to make up their mind about what it is they want. We’re running in circles until they make up their collective mind. Another meeting is in order, but how to arrange it? They took time out of their (admittedly very busy right now) schedules only because my Program Manger was here. And the president couldn’t even make it… well, that’s life. But it was good, and hopefully we’ll get everything else properly arranged… J
So, that was my June. Poof! The beginning of summer, warm but not hot, fruits and veggies just starting to come in… apricots are the first to come in season, then peaches, plums, grapes, figs, apples, pomegranates… perhaps, before I know it I’ll be breaking open my last pomegranate and waving goodbye to wearing only one layer of clothing again. That is, if July and August poof like June did!
This is what I used to always say upon turning around and finding that a close friend of mine had disappeared into thin air. “She poofed!” I would exclaim. Well, the month of June just poofed. Between an end-of-May early June trip to Meknes with Anthony, mid-service medicals in conjunction with the Rabat Jazz Festival, and site visit (when my Program Manager or his assistant come to my site to give everyone a kick in the butt), June just about evaporated!
It was fun, though. There are volumes I could write about each; so many interesting places, great music, epic wild goose chases, and even a couple opportunities to see people really inspired.
A synopsis:
Meknes is great, it’s like Fez only chilled out. Fez is big, and full to overflowing with tourists this time of year. Meknes is smaller, has fewer tourists and feels a little more affluent for some reason… but you can find perfectly affordable hotels there nonetheless. Even on a Peace Corps budget. J Nearby are the city of Moulay Idris and the Roman ruins called Volubilis. Moulay Idris is one of the most holy cities in Morocco, and Moroccans and Arabs from other places alike take pilgrimages there. I happened to be wearing a headscarf to hide from the sun, and Anthony happened to be sporting a beard, and we had a very difficult time convincing a man that we weren’t Muslims, and therefore could not go into the mosque there. It’s truly lovely, perched on a hill with cliffs on one side of it. Volubilis is… well to paraphrase a friend “AWESOOMMMEEE!!!!!” No, seriously, it’s cool. It’s an extensive set of ruins that have been partially rebuilt but are largely open to wandering around. With nothing but a guidebook in hand and sunscreen and a water bottle, you can explore that place all day quite happily. There is MUCH to see, and most of it isn’t roped off at all. You might as well be the first person to stumble across that nearly pristine mosaic of Venus in the ruins of an old house, and you can sit on the steps of the old forum and watch the storks feeding their chicks in their huge nest built atop an old column in the ruins of the basilica.
Mid-service Medicals… what is that? Well, that’s when volunteers who have been in-country for a year go to the Peace Corps medical staff for a check-up or, as the case may be, a tune-up. We get screened for parasites, go to the dentist, have a physical, etc. It’s fun, though, because the entire stage (the group I came to Morocco with) gathers, and we get to hang out! This happens infrequently. Most fortunately, our MSM’s happened right near the time the annual Rabat jazz festival, Jazz au Chellah, occurred. Jazz au Chellah hosts many musicians from Europe, Morocco and Sub-Saharan Africa. Some of the artists are forgettable, but some are amazing. Each night they pair an artist from Europe and/or Sub-Saharan Africa with and artist from Morocco. At the end of the night the play together, and it can be really, really awesome. This is the second year I have been lucky enough to attend. Also exciting about Rabat was a trip to the beach. An adventure that included city buses, taxis, advice from taxis, a long walk to find a place to change into a swimming suit, and a big beach full of Moroccans, with rocks on either side and a powerful rip current in the middle. We volunteers had fun exploring both Rabat and some other towns nearby more fully. I went on another city-bus adventure to find a friend from my site who usually lives in Rabat. Moroccans are so helpful! I had nothing but a slip of paper with my phonetic scramble of the words my friend gave me to get the right bus, and by asking directions, people got me to the right bus station, right bus, and the right stop. It was magical when I got to an unremarkable market way outside of the city to see her standing there in jellaba and hajib to greet me, calling my name to make sure I got off the bus! Lunch and tea and then return to the city for a stage meeting with Program Manager…
Who shortly thereafter arrived at my humble abode (site) in the mountains. I spent a good bit of time prior to his arrival running around and making phone calls trying to get meetings arranged for him. When he did come, we were off and running immediately. Four meetings in one day, but it was worth it! Or, well… some of it was definitely worth it, and some of it was frustrating. Some projects are moving forward steadily, some are brand new and exciting, and one is frustrating because the members of this one association can’t seem to make up their mind about what it is they want. We’re running in circles until they make up their collective mind. Another meeting is in order, but how to arrange it? They took time out of their (admittedly very busy right now) schedules only because my Program Manger was here. And the president couldn’t even make it… well, that’s life. But it was good, and hopefully we’ll get everything else properly arranged… J
So, that was my June. Poof! The beginning of summer, warm but not hot, fruits and veggies just starting to come in… apricots are the first to come in season, then peaches, plums, grapes, figs, apples, pomegranates… perhaps, before I know it I’ll be breaking open my last pomegranate and waving goodbye to wearing only one layer of clothing again. That is, if July and August poof like June did!
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