Out From Under the Clouds

I'm sure you've already guessed that this post will have better news, the title kind of gives it away but I couldn't pass up the double entendre, and not in the dirty way.
The next morning, I woke up, got packed, and was all ready to go.  I waited in the lobby until someone came over and put me in the shuttle.  I sat in the back with a man from Denmark whose flight was leaving at 7:10 and was afraid he might be cutting it a little close.  My flight left at 7:50 but I was nevertheless nervous, if there's one thing I'd learned it was never get too comfortable, just when you're feeling confident and comfortable, the whole jenga tower comes crashing down around your ears.  The driver came and informed me I had forgotten to turn in my key, which made me panic, but he just took it and said it wasn't a problem.  The whole thing really went off without a hiccup.  Hahaha, it's nice to be able to say that!  I arrived in the Fez airport, which is really cool, lots of tile work and you go down the stairs of your plane and walk across the sweltering tarmack into what looks like the front of the building. 

I was met immediately after customs by a girl from the school who had been sent to pick me up.  We got in the van with the driver and took off to Ifrane.  There was a brief scene that I accidentally caused, I seem to be prone to them.  I was trying to get my seatbelt on because I'd heard terrible things about driving in Morocco and I had actually been warned that this driver was especially fast.  My seatbelt was incredibly stubborn and was stuck underneath my seat somehow.  I just thought that I would quietly work on extracating in, possibly with my pen, the whole was to Ifrane.  Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.  The driver saw me struggling and tried to help by reaching backwards.  This was not effective.  He then proceded to pull over in the middle of a roundabout and get out of the car, come around the side, and do exactly the same thing that I had been trying with my seatbelt.  After a very embarrassing period, he managed to get it out and we continued driving.
Along the way, there were many groups of people taking naps in the shade.  I was told that they were harvesting peaches which obviously got me excited.  A car had broken down by the side of the road and our driver pulled over to see what he could do to help.  It turns out it was a freshman on her way to Al Akhawayn with her family and they had a flat tire.  The driver (I feel incredibly orientalist not remembering his name, sorry) changed their tire for them and we were back on our way.  I was eagerly scanning the countryside for the opportunity to see the thing that I am most looking forward to seeing.  Discaimer: this is not my picture, but I really really really hope to be able to take one like it someday soon.

!!!!!!!

I'm sorry it's not great quality, but how cool is that? It's like an Easter tree with goat decorations!  Anyways, the girl from the school just kind of looked at me like I was crazy when I told her that was what I really wanted to see.

I should tell you a little about the school.  It's a very beautiful campus design, I just learned today, by a French architect.  The translation means the two brothers.  If you want to be super groovy and get the pronounciation right it's (al-ach-a-win) with the emphasis on the ach which means brother.

 Anyways, I got to my room which happens to be on the opposite side of campus from everything and my room is on the third floor.  I was bemoaning this fact in the cafeteria the other day and several of the less permanent students said that they didn't live on campus, they lived in the annex in Ifrane which was much worse.  I just had to point out my broken leg and then they stopped. :)

I have a fox outside of my window that I say goodnight to everynight.  I feel like I have privledged knowledge because everyone around campus always says thing like, "did you hear we have a fox? I've never seen it but my friend's older brother's second cousin swears he saw it's tail flit around a corner once."

This is where he lives.

I was in the shower when my roommate arrived.  I was very lucky that I heard voices because I was preparing to make my usual entrance into my normally deserted room by hopping through the door in my underwear.  I quickly rethought this plan of action and put my pants back on.  I was incredibly relieved that I had because when I actually opened the door, her mother, her two aunts and two cousins turned to look at me from the bed.  I tried to salvage my shattered poise and basically stammered out that it was nice to meet them in Arabic before I was even introduced.  Later, once everyone had left, Amal (that is her name, it means hope and she is one of the sweetest and most helpful people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Not to mention she's lovely, like most Moroccan girls I've met with their olive skin, dark hair, and liquidy brown eyes next to whom I feel like the pasty duckling) came back in and said that her dad wanted to tell me hello and that I am welcome here in Morocco.  I was already in bed at this time, having lost the aforementioned pants in preparation for sleeping.  I thought that that was a very nice thing to say and asked her if she could tell him hi back for me or something equally eloquent.  She walked out into the hall and brought her father from where he had been outside our door into the room.

He had been a professor of French in Azrue, the largest nearby city and spoke English very well.  We had a long conversation about the medical system as he is now the head secretary for the Juvenille Diabetes Association in this part of Morocco.  Amal's whole family was very welcoming, as is every Moroccan I have met so far.  Most people, including the gardeners and maintenance men stop me as I walk by and say bless you and I hope you get better.  Much better than the United States from what I remember :)  I utterly reject what people say about Morocco being a sketchy and upsetting place to travel.  It must just be in really touristy places because Ifrane has been wonderful.  This campus is beautiful and I feel safer walking around at night by myself here than in Bozeman, that might also be because of Idris, my new friend who is a security guard.  He is the first person I have ever had a successful spontaneous Arabic conversation with and I will always remember him for that.