Fishing boats at Taghazout.
It's hot here.
No, I mean it's hot. The clock on the bank in Taroudant on Wednesday read 52°. That's Celsius -- take it times 1.8, add 32 and you get Fahrenheit ... 125°. I don't know how that could be possible, actually. But it really has been in the 118° range all this week.
Everything is hot. Every surface. My pillow. My toothpaste and saline solution. Water out of the tap. The air blown around by my lonely fan.
I've spent my afternoons trying to nap to make up for hours rolling around in the middle of the night, getting up for yet another bottle of frozen water to run along my legs and feet. Take several cooldown showers a day. Try to just not move very much. It's still hot after the sun goes down, but it's at least bearable, and I'm able to summon the energy to do a few things, like turn the pages of a book.
We were able to temporarily escape the heat last weekend with a brief trip to Taghazout, a pretty little village on the coast north of Agadir, renowned for both fishing and surfing. Oh, it was hot there, too, alright -- but the water was blissfully cold. I'm usually more of a lie on the beach and read rather than catch the waves kind of gal, but I spent most of my afternoons in the water with the young'uns, tossing the Frisbee around. We ate quite well, thanks to Anny and Vish, and had plenty of liquid refreshment thanks to a bus trip back to Agadir for supplies.
Best of all (besides the cold water), we were able to be dress lightly for a couple of days. No problem wearing skimpy swimsuits on the beach or even while walking through the village -- even for women, westerners and Moroccans alike. Back home, I'm still worrie about whether I have too much arm or collarbone or ankle showing when I dare to brave the heat and venture out.
Oh, how I wish I could've brought a little Taghazout back home with me! But I return to the coast next week. Work-related this time: I'll be teaching at a two-week English immersion camp in El Jadida, just south of Casablanca. But I'm told that in between the hard labor of being a camp counselor, we'll have time to visit the beach.
The lethargy-inducing heat has at least given me time to finally update my Flickr account -- I hadn't touched it since arriving in Morocco nearly 11 months ago now. I'll do a better job of organizing and visually archiving my life here from now on, I promise, so check back often.
Here are just a few more images from Taghazout:
Camel rides: The camels are kept muzzled and tethered; I hate seeing them approach.
Vish and friend.