This is the link to a slideshow compilation I recently put together. Morocco was amazing - so amazing that I hope to return in 2012 or 2013. Morocco is a beautiful country with beautiful people. I met up with 6 other people with an organization called Cross-Cultural Solutions. It's a very soft version of the Peace Corps. I claim no heroics. The children I saw each day were the real heroes. I volunteered at a children's hospital in Rabat in the cancer wing. I suppose I was nothing more than a glorified baby-sitter, but I say with gratitude and wisdom that I was an important glorified baby-sitter. I was a fresh face, a new smile, a beacon leading the children to a destination that momentarily transported them from their suffering. I was also the welcomed respite the parents needed.

The cultural immersion was most valuable. Rabat is not a tourist destination. It's the hub of government in Morocco, a city of commerce. It's beautiful and delightfully bustling and colorful and every bit as magical as the bigger names - Casablanca, Fes, Marrakech, Tangiers, Essaouira, The Sahara etc. Rabat is perched on the Atlantic and steeped in history - well, all of Morocco is a historical crossroads of riveting interest. Morocco is also 99.9% Islamic. I gained an enormous respect for Islam and Muslims. Shame, shame on the fear makers of the world who have targeted the whole of this faith, culture, and people.

Preempting my return to Morocco is a trip I've scheduled to Nepal. I leave mid-October to fly into Doha, Qatar for one night. I then fly into Kathmandu for 3 nights before I meet up with five others to take two domestic flights into the hinterlands. En route we will spend one night to acclimate though our elevations won't reach Everest proportions. After our second flight we will have to hike two hours to our accommodations. I've been told that burros will carry our luggage. I will be a member of a group restoring a Buddhist monastery. The project has been in progress for 5 years and is in the final stages. I won't be lugging boulders. :) To get to work each day I'll have to navigate a footbridge suspended over a gorge. Oye. I've padded my trip with lots of time to do some exploring on my own once I return to Kathmandu.

Of note, I inquired with my doctors for their approval of this jaunt. I've had two hip replacements and unfortunately nearly died last summer as the result of unexpected pulmonary embolisms - three! Because I live alone I was especially at risk because I thought I was coming down with the flu... not dying. The following video was made by a former volunteer with CRTP with whom I will be affiliated.

Nepal Video:

So, I'm still here. I love my life. Several years ago I wrote a 6-word memoir and it still applies: Wiser today than yesterday. There's tomorrow.

The following is something I wrote for my church bulletin:

After two weeks of volunteering in Rabat, Morocco with children on an oncology unit, one could easily assume that my core emotional impact occurred there. There's no doubt those precious children touched my heart with great empathy. Their plight was often heart-wrenching; their courage an inspiration. Yet, my most memorable experience didn't happen at the hospital - not even close.

It happened my very last day in Morocco during a quick turnaround visit to Casablanca. As my companions and I disembarked the train and wondered how we would navigate a city bulging with millions of people, a jolly sort approached us with lyrically broken English and an offer we couldn't refuse... the whole time he twirled a lollipop in his mouth. For a very reasonable price he suggested an excellent tour of Casablanca... and he did.

In response to our questioning we learned our driver was 43-years old with a wife and 9 year old daughter. His eyes lit up when he talked about his family. He talked briefly about his 20 years as a taxi driver - driving a vehicle he doesn't even own. He alluded to the uncertainty of it all, yet it wasn't pity or a larger tip he was looking for. He made it clear his journey in life was simply his given path. He accepted it. Much like the world at large, there is little opportunity in Morocco.

During the last fifteen minutes of our ride I noticed he became unusually quiet - his smile had skittered away and his countenance darkened a bit with a wrinkled brow of unknown origins. I ignored any sense of propriety and reached out and patted his shoulder - caressed it for a few moments with the language of concern. When we reached the train station we paid him twice his quote because he'd spent twice the amount of time with us. He was thrilled. Wanting to make sure the amount was to his satisfaction I asked, "Wakha?" which means "Okay" in Arabic. "Shukran!" (Thank you!) was his response. He shook the hands of my companions and then gave me a bear hug. I didn't realize the difference until later.

On the train back to Rabat, my companion said that the driver had asked her to tell me something on the return trip. He'd given her the message long before I'd patted him on his shoulder and long before our hug. This is what he told my friend, "Later, tell the woman seated beside me that I know when she was a young girl she was the most beautiful woman in the world."

How did he know my life has been difficult too, but that most the sorrow lies within? How did he know those simple words were such an important gift? It's not about the beauty thing... he saw something else in me and validated it.

I don't know how to close this, but I think this is what I learned: The answers to prayer come in all guises. Sometimes fanfare doesn't come with a marching band's big booming drums, but in the delightful tickle of a piccolo. Sometimes wondrous things zoom into our lives when we least expect them. No matter what, no matter the interpretation... prayer is always a good response.

I've thought about this a lot. Each day we all have the opportunity to gift another life with kindness. I suspect my lollipop driver is far wiser than me and already knows his recompense. His kindness is bonded to my heart forever and it trills with great gratitude, and that is enough recompense for him. And maybe, just maybe my little pat, that little caress, that outreach of tenderness was enough kindness to inspire his heart to trill, too.

And that's what I brought home from Morocco

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And to close with something I read several months ago:

There comes a time in life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh, forget the bad, and focus on the good. So love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living.

Bislama, Reenie