I made it no further than two blocks from the house when another wave of rain broke loose from the grey sky. I paused to determine my options, but in that time I could already feel damp pants clinging to my leg. I needed to get inside. Through the windows of a cafe, I watched the storm make a river out of the street. People scattered to find shelter, unless they were unfortunate enough to own an umbrella, in which case they were too proud to admit that their preparedness was no match against the violent weather. One boy played in the water with a thick smile plastered on his face.
Winter was putting on its final performance. Earlier in the week, the sun demonstrated it's power and provided a taste of what summer might be like, but it couldn't sustain itself this early in the spring. It was back to the weather I had experienced throughout my training: wet and windy. Winter is stupid if there is no snow.
I felt useless. My only goal for the day was to make a photocopy of my passport. It took so much effort to crawl out of bed in the morning and greet my family. I almost went back to sleep after breakfast, but instead I summoned all my energy and stepped out into Morocco. But now that I was about to do something productive with my morning, I was suddenly stranded, incapable of doing anything just because water was falling from the sky. Part of me was stoked since I am a big fan of doing nothing, and there is no better way of doing nothing than listening to rain patter. Part of me was frustrated though, because I had been doing nothing all week, my first week at my final Peace Corps site.
After two months of intensive training, it was awkward to have nothing to do. The Youth Center in the town is closed for renovations, so I have no official classroom. Yesterday I was about to give an English class at the women's center, but someone had forgot to leave the key for me, so I failed before I even started. I had made some friends at the basketball courts earlier in the week, but that too had been cut off because of the freaking rain.
Two men chatted near me in the cafe. I should approach them, I thought. Since I was stuck inside anyway I might as well try to meet some of my neighbors. My job description at this point in my service is simply to make friends. However, their tone and expressions seemed serious and I felt intimidated. As I tried to think of how to introduce myself, the waiter walked up to me and asked me what I would like. I wanted to say that I was just waiting for the storm to pass, but I got scared that it might be rude, so I asked for a coffee even though I had just had some at my house. The interaction with the waiter messed up my thought patterns, and I decided that I wouldn't talk to the strangers after all.
I just sat. And drank my coffee and admired the storm.
I paid for my coffee when the rain stopped. Then I walked to the paper store to photocopy my passport. I chatted with the store owner and made him smile. Then I dropped some papers off at the police station. I chatted with the police officers and made them laugh. One of them even gave a me a sort of high five. Instead of going back to my house afterwards, I went to the local boarding house for out of town students. I wanted to talk to the director about maybe scheduling some English classes in one of his spare rooms. He wasn't around, though.
This sudden burst of productivity lasted thirty minutes. It wasn't much, but it tired me out enough to want to go back home and spend a few hours doing nothing.
Winter was putting on its final performance. Earlier in the week, the sun demonstrated it's power and provided a taste of what summer might be like, but it couldn't sustain itself this early in the spring. It was back to the weather I had experienced throughout my training: wet and windy. Winter is stupid if there is no snow.
I felt useless. My only goal for the day was to make a photocopy of my passport. It took so much effort to crawl out of bed in the morning and greet my family. I almost went back to sleep after breakfast, but instead I summoned all my energy and stepped out into Morocco. But now that I was about to do something productive with my morning, I was suddenly stranded, incapable of doing anything just because water was falling from the sky. Part of me was stoked since I am a big fan of doing nothing, and there is no better way of doing nothing than listening to rain patter. Part of me was frustrated though, because I had been doing nothing all week, my first week at my final Peace Corps site.
After two months of intensive training, it was awkward to have nothing to do. The Youth Center in the town is closed for renovations, so I have no official classroom. Yesterday I was about to give an English class at the women's center, but someone had forgot to leave the key for me, so I failed before I even started. I had made some friends at the basketball courts earlier in the week, but that too had been cut off because of the freaking rain.
Two men chatted near me in the cafe. I should approach them, I thought. Since I was stuck inside anyway I might as well try to meet some of my neighbors. My job description at this point in my service is simply to make friends. However, their tone and expressions seemed serious and I felt intimidated. As I tried to think of how to introduce myself, the waiter walked up to me and asked me what I would like. I wanted to say that I was just waiting for the storm to pass, but I got scared that it might be rude, so I asked for a coffee even though I had just had some at my house. The interaction with the waiter messed up my thought patterns, and I decided that I wouldn't talk to the strangers after all.
I just sat. And drank my coffee and admired the storm.
I paid for my coffee when the rain stopped. Then I walked to the paper store to photocopy my passport. I chatted with the store owner and made him smile. Then I dropped some papers off at the police station. I chatted with the police officers and made them laugh. One of them even gave a me a sort of high five. Instead of going back to my house afterwards, I went to the local boarding house for out of town students. I wanted to talk to the director about maybe scheduling some English classes in one of his spare rooms. He wasn't around, though.
This sudden burst of productivity lasted thirty minutes. It wasn't much, but it tired me out enough to want to go back home and spend a few hours doing nothing.
