Camp!

For Most of April I was traveling. Last year, and all other years in recent history, Morocco's Spring Break was a single week.THIS YEAR the government decided to have Spring Break be two weeks long. (As if these kids aren't out of school enough as it is from a million holidays and strikes...) Last year, I coordinated the Ministry of Youth and Sport's English Immersion Camp in Oujda. This year I was assigned to a bit of a different task. I was assigned to coordinate a day camp at a Dar Chebab in Fes. This particular Dar Chebab was chosen because the newest set of Peace Corps Trainees arrived just a few weeks ago and one group of 6 is training at this particular Dar Chebab. Having a camp at the Dar Chebab not only is fun for the neighborhood kids, but it also gives the PCTrainees a chance to see what "camp" is like really early on in their experience. We taught English and did some games in English, and of course, taught the Macarena. It was an especially important time for the PCTs to see what is "normal" here. For example, we prepared a whole afternoon show for the local delegate of the ministry of youth and sports and...of course, he was a no-show. They also got to find out that is is normal for the Moroccan counselors to bust in on your English class, or any activity, and take it over. They're just trying to help. Smacking a misbehaving kid? Also normal. (Although I don't do it...) One particular PCT, Kitty, has a tremendous amount of camp experience under her belt from America. I heard her making a comment about a game we could play with our shoes off that she couldn't play in the states because "insurance wouldn't allow it." HA! All in all, camp week 1 was a great success.

This is a photo of me, the new PCTs, and some of the campers and counselors at the Fes camp. Getting to Camp Week 2 was a bit more of a challenge. The camp to which I was originally assigned for week 2 really didn't have room for me. And camps were canceling right and left for week two because...local delegations just didn't feel like hosting a week 2. I found my refuge though in Tetouan! Tetouan is a lovely mountain city very close to Tangier. It looks so much like Spain! Everything I read referred the the architecture as Andalusian. The kids at the camp were well behaved and spoke a surprising amount of English. I really bonded with a few of them. They also were incredibly participatory with all our activities including an epic 2-hour scavenger hunt that not even one group finished! I will definitely be recreating it for summer camp.

(Photo of Tetouan and it's beautiful white buildings.) Camp finished on a Friday so two other PCVs and I who'd been at Tetouan went up to Tangier for Friday and Saturday. I had been to Tangier last year to do the Special Olympics and really loved it. I went back thinking that my memory would prove false and it wasn't possibly as great a city as I remembered...well I was wrong! Tangier is absolutely just as fantastic as last year! There are so many fun tourists to "bonjour" in the street, so many winding avenues to follow, so many cafes and restaurants to sit at for hours on end. It's also very walkable. Plus, there is the beach and the port. It's humbling and thought-provoking to gaze across the water and stare dreamily at Spain, a mere and clear 8 miles away. Yes, not only is Tangier officially my favorite city in Morocco, it just may be my favorite city in the world, aside from Miami, of course.

This is a picture taken on our trip to Tangier last year of me and Xavier "accidentally" getting caught in a Russian tour group... As much as a loved seeing more of the country and traveling, there's nothing like home. I took a 12 hour bus from Tangier to Errachidia and then took a different bus from Errachidia back to Bouarfa. Once I started getting closer to Bouarfa, I could really see the atmosphere change. The air got thinner, the sky brighter. Everything had a tinge of dusty orange and I felt at ease and at home. The music playing on the bus was distinctly 3aloui, Moroccan/Algerian border music. Imagine you are on an old greyhound, windows wide open, women wrapped in colorful sheets, men with turbans all around you, it's hot and dusty and beautiful.