Superstition

So apparently one isn't supposed to talk about baby for the first twenty-four hours in case something awful happens. I took it as a personal attack. My bad.

The house has been entirely empty. I went home after Arabic yesterday to find no one there. I went to bed at 10pm and still no one was there. I woke up to find that breakfast had been left for me on the table. Later in the morning, Mother walked into my room without knocking and I was in the process of getting dressed. There was no request for pardon.

Gender this morning was... not interesting. The syllabus made it sound like we were going to talk about how al-mourshidaat (gov't sponsored women's program to get really educated ladies out there educating other ladies) has taken off to a rocky start. Instead, an hour and a half of my life was spent staring into space while the professor discussed the literary aspect of the article instead of its relevance to the real world.

I did not go home for lunch. Instead, I ate Brahim's food, and it was absolutely delicious. I smiled as I realized that my lunch held every color of the rainbow, red for tomatoes, orange for carots, yellow for potatoes, green for beans and also lettuce, blue for my entire Nalgene that I drank, and finally purple for beets. I do believe that I have finally fully recovered from Friday's illness.

The sun is shining. I've been sitting outside on the terrace working on tanning... the backs of my hands. It's still quite cool, so I, foolishly (and sensibly) kept my shirt on. Some of the other girls, however, have opted otherwise. It is hshuma for sure, but at least they'll go back to America with nice tank top tan lines. Morocco had been famous for its fabulously mild winters but I guess that was just not in the cards for us. Even now, in proper spring time it is much too cool and the clouds on the far eastern horizon don't look much like gentile cotton balls.

I got back all of my mid terms, and I got an A- on all of them. I am furious with myself. I need to get on the ball and polish off a perfect semester.

I want to apoligize for my extreme swings in behavior. Morocco likes to play with my mind. While I do love it here, I hate it as well. I do not find myself saying that this was the best thing ever (like I have with Exeter or either Outward Bound experience). I shall take the next four and a half weeks as I would the end of any normal semester. It is hard to not have a library to retreat to but I'll have to settle for overpriced cafés with rude waiters instead.