Marrakesh Mama: My Head Spins This Week

It has been a mind boggling week. And I'm not talking about Morocco. I have watched with astonishment and a sense of helplessness as events have unfolded in the United States. I am torn between trying to keep up with the endless stream of news and the temptation to bury my head in the sand. Refugee education is near and dear to my heart. With each new development on the immigration and education fronts, I have cringed anew. I have alternated between overdosing on news and ignoring my Facebook feed. I am grateful to be so far away and grieving that I am incapable of helping from afar. I am proud of every protester, park ranger, and passionate citizen speaking out on my behalf. Thank you.

Summit Street School connection! So grateful
to this woman for her professional mentorship
and support over the years. What a treat to
share the magic of Marrakech!

Day to day Marrakech has been comparatively drama-free and upbeat. We have managed to balance some fun and adventure with our daily school and work routines. We had a great mid-January treat with a visit from Vermont friends, which we followed up by channeling some Vermont skiing vibes later in the week with a trip back to the High Atlas to give Andy his chance at the high altitude Moroccan ski experience. This time we were treated to some recent snow and about 8 inches of powder. It was a workout that left me wondering how I could possibly be breathing so heavily and completely exhausted from pointing my skis downhill. Gravity did not seem to be doing its job. Overall, though, it was a successful day. We managed to rent helmets this time around, which made me feel slightly safer than the last time we tried this adventure. The sun shone brightly as we waited an hour for the ticket booth to open and the lift to start running. The un-groomed powder made for challenging skiing but also provided more padding and friction for our falls. The image of Brianna's never-ending slide down the steep trail still haunts me. After three hours of challenging skiing under a cloudless sky, we wound our way back to Marrakech unscathed.

The view at 10,700 feet

Who knew we would find snowmen in Morocco!

The weekend brought marathon madness to Marrakech. Actually, for an international Marathon of about 8000 runners, the hype was pretty limited. A "marathon village" popped up in the park near our apartment. Andy and I had preregistered, so we walked over the day before the marathon, picked up our bibs, tried to determine where the race would actually start, and left with t-shirts that were designed for some oddly shaped people (in a country that encourages me to keep my skin covered, I find it slightly humorous that my official marathon t-shirt is more of a belly-baring crop top than anything close to modest running attire). The day before the marathon, Brianna and Nolan joined a group of girls from Project Soar to run the children's race through Marrakech. It was a 5K...no 3K...no 4K...ummm we have no idea how far it was, but it was a loop through part of the city with lots of local participants. Despite the running part (as Brianna would say), it was a good time, but the whining about sore muscles lasted for days. Andy and I got our turn the following day.

Finished!

I, being somewhat sane and not overzealous about training, had signed up for the half marathon. Andy, being somewhat insane and also not overzealous about training, had signed up to run the whole thing. I was quite happy about my choice. You can check in with Andy to see how he feels about his. The day dawned sunny and cool, as Marrakech mornings do in January. We found our way to the starting area where there were four port-o-lets. Yes. Four. Three of them were marked, "men," and one said, "women." Three of them were overflowing and locked closed. There were 8000 runners. I was mildly concerned about what this might mean for race course resources.

Pre-race chilliness with my fans

It was about 45 degrees when we started running. Brianna and Nolan stood by taking care of the camera, clothes, and money bag so I could concentrate on not getting stampeded at the start. Once I made it across the starting line, it was smooth sailing. The course was pretty and flat. We ran through parts of Marrakech that I had not seen before. I didn't hear a single word of English. The sun shone. The road stayed flat. There were bottles of water and oranges picked straight from the trees (so if you were tired of running, you could distract yourself by trying to peel an orange while you ran). There were no mileage markers. I ran in a blissful state of unawareness. I had no idea how far I had run or how far I had to go. I had no idea what anyone around me was saying. I just looked at my watch and hoped that I had trained well enough to keep me going for a couple of hours. Cheerful children popped up at intervals along the course to slap my hand. The biggest crowds were the grumpy motorbike drivers who were stopped at the intersections just waiting for all of us to go by. It was not the Vermont City Marathon. But, it was flat. Have I mentioned that? When I finished, it was 70 degrees without a cloud in the sky. Brianna and Nolan had come back for the finish and had bargained for a liter of freshly squeezed orange juice. I quickly decided that flat marathons in the sunshine are my thing.

Post-race smiles for all

The next day, Brianna, Nolan, and I boarded a bus to Agadir where I had a conference scheduled for the week. Brianna and Nolan enjoyed hotel living for a few days while I attended workshops and presentations. It was a whirlwind week of new faces and lots of learning for me, and a sweet beach vacation week for the kids. Now, we are back in Marrakech ready to see what the next week will bring both here in Marrakech and in our world at home. Stay strong for us!