Magic

I think sometimes that there is more magic here than in other places I have lived. Charms protect us from the evil eye. Dreams at some times of the night will come true. Certain animals are lucky. God is spoken of and to in almost every conversation.

The evening of the 5th, just before Iftar, I could feel her coming. It's been 13 months since my best friend Chev and I have seen each other- she's been living in Burkina Faso working for the Peace Corps. I knew she was due to arrive any moment, so I watched from the rooftop of my hotel until I saw her in the street. I ran downstairs and out the door and hugged her. Without knowing us or what was going on, the shopkeepers and people sitting in cafes outside started applauding and cheering for us. The magic began.
The next day, Chev, Kristi, Zoe and I decided to get henna, so we visited a henna artist/spice shop proprietor who, I assume, is the Moroccan equivalent of a witch. I adore everything about her, from her bright red henna-dyed hair to her slightly battered Jallaba. She paints us with Berber designs and stops every few minutes to tell tourists browsing in the shop what the powers and purposes of each spice are. If I were living in Morocco I would love to be just like her.

Over the next few days I fell into an enjoyable pattern of sahoor, fasting, iftar, and nighttime adventures with my ever-dwindling number of classmates. Yes, my heart is broken now, but it broke slowly and over a long period of time. This is good because I did not have any moments that were more than I could handle but bad because I had a new (and progressively more painful) goodbye almost every day. First Alex left, then the first of the Medinanites and then more and more in little groups until we took Kristi to a bus bound for Marrakech and kidnapped Beau to Rabat. He just left for London a few minutes ago, despite our best attempts to extend the kidnapping all the way to Burkina Faso. He was the last of the people I spent the last two months with and now he is gone. My heart is somehow broken exactly the same way all over again and, at the same time, so, so much worse.

But Chev and I are still together in a beautiful Riad. (If any one reading this is ever going to Rabat, the Riad "The Repose" in Sale is the single best place to stay. Don't think about any other place. Jan and Rashid are the two greatest people in Rabat so you should probably meet them.) We are going to Casablanca tomorrow to chill in the airport for longer than is usually appropriate and then on to Paris. There will be more stories to tell of the last few days, tonight I am just holding it together as best I can, assuring myself that goodbyes in Morocco will turn into reunions in Seattle after another round of adventures with my best friend.

Was it magic that made this summer go so fast? Was it magic that made so many strangers into such good friends? Tonight I feel like I will dream something to make it all make sense, that I will wake up tomorrow having closed the book on one part of this adventure and finally be ready to begin the next one.