Aaaand I'm back. I know, I know. Long time. Don't worry, I have plenty of excuses prepared.
Excuse #1: Marche Maroc Essaouira.
Since late March another PCV and I worked on a craft fair for associations and cooperatives that work with PCVs across Morocco to attend in Essaouira (possibly my favorite place in Morocco). Everything went well, and as according to plan as could be expected. I think everyone had a good time, sold some product, and it was worth the living and breathing Marche Maroc, as well as blood, bruises and sweat (no tears, because there's no crying in Peace Corps). A little part of me is now wondering what to do with myself (oh, wait, there's still reports to be written and follow up to be done. Never mind.) Everyone who helped out was absolutely amazing - such a great team of helpers.
Excuse #2: London town.
Here's the short version: eating, drinking, catching up with my girls, dancing, more eating, some family time, shopping, museums (yay!), chatting, food shopping, trying on new shoes, more drinking, pub lunches, haircut, jacuzzi, steam room, sauna, running for busses (thank you Al!), and more dancing. All while wearing little dresses I could never get away with in Morocco (never mind that it was raining.)
Here's the long version: I went to London for ten days, of which the first 36 hours was spent being the wide-eyed country girl in the big city - overwhelmed by the number of choices, and being able to pick things up in the supermarket instead of having to ask the man behind the counter for something. I saw lots of my favorite people, some family, and ate my way through town. Everyone agreed that I've gotten some color while living in the desert (shocker, that one) and by the end of two years of service my hair may well be blonde (damn you, sun).
I guess that's not *plenty* of excuses, but whatever. It brings me to the last three days, in which I've unpacked (kind of), slept (a lot) and been fed (a lot) by my host aunts. Plus, in contrast to the last time I returned home after a spell away, when there were nearly 100 dead crickets on my kitchen floor, this time? Maybe six or seven. It would seem the Cricket War is over. Bonus.
Next week begins Ramadan, so will report soon on fasting, breaking fast, harira (soup) and staying up late to eat. I promise to write more during my days of not eating and being hot.