Lost in the last Wednesday

So here it is my friends… 7 1/2 days out until we fly home! It is incredible to think about all of the things I won’t have to miss in such a short time… it is hard to sit idly here at night knowing all that we have to do and all that is to come. This morning I attended my last women’s aerobic class. That class saved my life. From my first week, it has provided my an important outlet and lesson for myself. That being physically active not only relieves stress but it helps me escape it, during a run, yoga or workout class… I can pause mentally from whatever is plaguing me. Especially here in Morocco, that was vital to my sanity. It wasn’t only the classes, it was the 20 minute bike ride to the Sport’s Center and the 20 minute bike ride back. I will admit, I have gotten tired of the ride the past couple of months and opted to lazily hop in a taxi but today… it was a nice ride down memory lane.

From the Sport’s Center, I make a right where I bike up a pretty terrible but short hill. I take a left and see the apartment building where I would see someone’s horse stand in front of the door as if he were Mr. Ed and just rang the doorbell to chat with a friend. 

I continue down the street where there are plenty of stray animals wandering about looking for food and notice the place where I fell . I make a right into the round about and see the supermarket that often served as a sanctuary for my ‘store fix’ as it has lots of canned goods, hygienic items,  packaged spices, noodles etc. etc. stuff that is commonplace at a supermarket in the US. I merge onto the main road and pass a delicious restaurant that could be the place where the Hubs and I eat our last meal.

On the main road there are too many memories too count. At the beginning of our time in Larache while living with a host family who lived in this part of town, we spent quite a bit of time walking up and down this street. Without bikes and not wanting to spend the money on taxis we would walk the hour and a half one-way to the Youth Center and back… sometimes twice a day. 

I pass the Anapec (an employment organization) where we went once to try to organize an employment workshop series for a women’s association. 

I pass one of the high schools and smell something being deliciously fried,  this has been the scene of many boys yelling at me but also where we attended an English Class party for a couple of our Youth Center students. 

I continue to go straight around my favorite roundabouts in Larache, called Cuatro Camino (4 roads), it is a breathtaking fountain 

Where I see a man that lives on the corner and seems like he is constantly giving a speech to a large group of people…

I race down the street and let myself let go a little bit as I glide down the hill to the post office, which holds memories of frustration, joy and lessons of patience

I glide around the big roundabout that boasts itself to be the center of town… I take a glance at the ocean

  
before I take a right onto my tiny little street…..

 I have done this ride almost three times a week for a year and a half now. Each time has been different in some way… whether it be my bike tire a little flat, lots of traffic, my body having more/less energy. But both the class and the ride give me a sensation of empowerment. They reassure me that this is the place I am supposed to be at this time… it wipes away a lot of the frustration and gives me a “you can do this, no matter what” feeling. As I ride up to my door, I let myself get lost in the revery of my very last Wednesday in Larache.

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