It’s now that I know my stomach has shrunk. I want to eat everything on the table but I can only manage a few mouthfuls of food before I am full.
The streets are surprisingly busy during the day in the old Medina but subdued when it comes to the normal sound track of my street. The kids are not running screaming up and down the street or beating a sibling up because thats just not cool during Ramadan.
I spent the morning sleeping and then tidying my home for my first meeting with my new Darija tutor. My tutor is one of the local English teachers and she – yes she- seems so western in comparison to many of the Moroccan women I know.
She arrives and we spend two hours simply talking in English and getting to know each other /catching up. She is an amazing woman and when I tell her I will pay her – she refuses.
I am excited to get time to talk with her and ask for her help with my fall Employment Camp that I am planning and developing curriculum for – which she readily offers.
Once my tutor and I end the session I crash out in front of a fan and read some more of a free book I downloaded on my Kindle app.
Final when dusk nears I walk over to my old site mate host family to break my fast and as I do dark clouds roll in over the mountains that ring my site and a sprinkle of rain starts to fall.
I raise my face to the rain and hope I get to the host family house before it pours.
I utter a Alhumdualilah for the wind and rain. As I reach the host family house lightening streaks across the sky followed by the clap of thunder.
I have missed the summer storms that I grew use to when I lived in Colorado attending high school and this felt just like one of those storms.
I hustle into the house and I am rewarded with the first part of the down pour- which host mom tells me to go outside and sit in the rain and enjoy it.
So I stand in the courtyard with my face raised to the rain and my arms outstretched to catch the winds until another bolt of lightning lights up the sky and I run back inside out of the rain and watch out of the windows as the storm rages outside.
We break our fast and the rain stops as we do but the cool wind continues a welcome relief from weeks of 100F+ temps although its not as hot as other parts of Morocco such as Marrakech and Tata.
Later I am walked home to my house and the streets are busy with individuals going to the masjid for Taraweeh or to socialize at a friends house.
I barely notice spending all night drinking nalgene after nalgene of water until right before the dawn prayer.
American Muslimahs Musings 