Today I received a final briefing on what to expect on the other side of the Atlantic. I’ll be flying into Casablanca’s Mohammed V International Airport, and from there to Mehdya, a small beach town North of Rabat. From the gist of the email I got it sounds like they want to keep us new volunteers away from the big cities and crowds while they make sure we are all sane, sober and vaccinated, and while eating during daylight hours is punishable by law. That’s right, I’ll be landing during the holy season of Ramadan, which, I believe, celebrates the month it took the archangel Michael (or Gabriel) to dictate the Koran to the Prophet Mohammed. Apparently, and I bet one Wiki search could prove me wrong but, since Mohammed was so busy writing down the word of God during the day, he didn’t get a chance to eat, and so fasted from sunrise to sunset. Nowadays the Islamic world remembers this by spending the month of Ramadan sleeping all-day and partying all night, and punishing anyone caught flouting their lack of faith by having a slim frosted lemon muffin and Venti two-pump caramel macchiato on their way to work. (In actuality Starbucks, if it is in Morocco (and lets face it, it probably is because it is EVERYWHERE!) is not open and serving this month.)
So, the adventure awaits, and from the start it is going to be quite different from all the paper pushing jobs that I probably could not have gotten hired for anyway.