Thursday, August 16, 2007

I lost my shoes. There are some really great ways to lose them, maybe in a kayak accident or stolen at gun point. This has to be the dumbest way.

I was elaited to be invited to a wedding fest, I dont like to be a door crasher but Moroccan culture is a little more vauge about invitations than American. Embossed paper is expensive, but word of mouth isnt. So at 1130am, I biked over (with helmet!) to Mulay Abdulahamans. I tend to call all weddings by the name of the father figure, mostly because they seem to be the ones in control of everything. It wasnt Mulays wedding, I think it was his daughtors. Truely that part was not important, and at this lunchen fest I never once saw either the bride or groom. I like to wear what I call "traditional" sandles, because many people have them. Really, they are imported (China?) plastic sandles. They are very sturdy, and very cheap. Most of them are blue (this is key).

When you arrive at someones house it would be impolite to track dirt into their rooms. So you take your shoes off at the door. Which is a simple process in plastic sandles (another reason to wear them). At large gatherings the piles of shoes grows to impressive size, looking like you have arrived to a grade school sock hop. Instead we all hang out barefoot thinking "damn, that dudes feet have been treated harshly". The food came, we ate, and pretty much as a group we stood to leave. Because everyone is looking for shoes at the door it creates a small bottleneck, and I was at the end. As the crowd thins and I move to the front I do not find my fairly new size 44 blue plastic sandles. What is left are two mismatched, smaller blue plastic sandles.

This leads to two conclusions. Either one man came wearing drasticly mismatched sandles and worked a little prestidigitation. Or two men came, switched one foot each and now have mismatched pairs. I am hesitant to assign sinister motives, and am more concerned about the lack of observation skills in my town. While the right footed sandle is close to the correct size (its a 41), the left is truely too small for my foot, which makes me think someone in town has a left that is way to large for them. In a week of strangeness, which I am attributing entirely to the informally named "owner of the stars", this was the icing.

Time to go back to market and buy another pair.


I looked back on some of these "posts". I am unimpressed. But, more importantly, it is hard to believe how quickly this time has gone.

I was spending some time with a few vols from my cohort this weekend, and we all could not believe how soon we were done. As the summer starts to fade, and I know that I have a mostly mild winter then the trip home I know that it is coming quick.

This does raise the issue of counting down months. It is my feeling that one should count a month as finished at the end of the month. But, strangely some vols count off a month at the begining of the month. Strangeness. Think about it this way, when school is out, Ill be home.

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