I look back on March and April, and the colors that come to mind are grey, black and white, brown. March is perhaps the hardest month because it is cold and starting to be humid. Except when April is the same only rainy instead of sleet.
I look back on the middle of the semester, and it was a long, hard pull. Constant, compiling knowledge to be gained. Assignments to be completed, tests to study for and take. Friends and boyfriend far, and no one coming to visit any time soon. Work exciting in it's developments but overwhelming in it's demands. Every hurdle you clear is followed by another either already in view or waiting sneakily around a bend. So you set your jaw, rally your discipline, buy a bar of chocolate and just go.
I have infinitely more respect for the people who pull off a full time job and an education at the same time now. Infinitely. They are amazing.
I look back on March in Morocco and longed for the early green of the winter wheat and the unashamed beauty of the almond trees blooming. I remember how it was distinctly warmer, and I began to wear only 4 layers instead of 7. Which, of course, makes me appreciate central heating, real woodstoves and the wonder that is modern insulation and plumbing. :)
So, yeah, there were bright spots scattered around. A friend from Peace Corps randomly shows up on my doorstep. A skype date with my family in Morocco is arranged, and wonder of wonders I can still hold a conversation. Of course, extra women show up. Even my cat makes an appearance! Oh, how I have missed you, Trouble. This week, I'm sleeping on the floor again, in a folded sheet, and you are not here to crawl in beside me along my side. Share your warmth and your dirt with me. I didn't care. Not even when I got ring worm (besides, I got my revenge when I rubbed fungicidal cream on you twice a day every day). I miss you much like I miss most of my life in Morocco, without having yet forgotten the bad spots. They were mostly only annoying then, and now, they seem like vinegar in lentils; bringing out the flavor.
It's been just over a year since I finished my service, and became an RPCV. Many things have changed in Morocco since I left. The very program I worked for has been discontinued, in the face of bureaucracy and misfortune. My village will not get another volunteer after my replacement leaves next year. This is hard to accept, because it is unlikely that the associations will be ready to fly on their own by that time. They will have to try. The government is much the same. I hear reports of the protests and I am hopeful and nervous at the same time. I hope the king and his government look at their neighbors and think carefully as to how to maintain the peace. I hope the people look carefully at their neighbors as they decide how to push for growth and change. I hope no more bombs go off in cafes anywhere in the country.
I look back on this year since I left Morocco, and one thing is sure: it's been quite the ride... life goes on, but it seems to only grow in complexity. Simplify, many Americans put on their walls, their bumpers, their shirts. I'd like to, but... speed allows for greater complexity. And we hurtle on, we Americans, multi-tasking and scheduling and flying and driving and typing... I am doing my best to keep up!
