Asfi Summer Camp; 2012-  Asfi is a beautiful city on the Ocean (population, over 400,000, believe it or not).  Ryan is located there and he and Mallory (another close friend we've hung out with since we "staged" in Philly) organized a Summer Camp at a Dar Chabab there.  Lee and I came in from our sites to work as counselors at the Camp.  It went from August 20-30, and we all (sometimes as many as 9) stayed with Ryan and his two roommates at his apartment.

Needless to say, it was crazy, exciting, and incredibly fun!!!  We had about 35 campers, aged 13-24 (most between the ages of 16-21) who attended the camp to give them something to do and/or learn a little English.  All of them left with a fantastic time under their belts.

The camp was wonderfully organized by Ryan and Mallory and included warm-ups in the morning to get them fired up (ridiculously loud chants, dances, songs, etc.,), workshops (arts, alternative sports, song/dance/, etc.), activities (soccer, volleyball, “fill-the-cup-with-a-bottle cap” race, etc.), events (to an MMA gym, beautiful tennis club, the beach, trash pick-up, poetry-in-the-park, etc ), English instruction, and a wonderful, catered lunch every day.

The group was divided into four teams, that came up with a make-believe country, flag, chant, etc., and the groups competed for points, with a “winner” at the end.  Moroccans are the most competitive people in the world, and so points were eagerly sought-after even if they were earned for cleaning up the kitchen, guessing the names of the 50 states, using the word-of-the-day in a sentence, etc.

The kids (we call them “kids” even though many of them were close to the same age as the counselors) were so excited about every facet of the camp.  Some even cried when it was over, and we were not going to see them any more.  One camper invited all of us over to her parents house for couscous, and it was delicious!

I’ve posted some pictures, but hopefully I will post a few more from other people’s cameras (that might have me in them :).

Anyway, the Mudira of the Dar Chabab as well as her boss were so impressed!  We each received a decorated plate/bowl (a picture of which I posted yesterday).

Then it was off to Oulidia, an awesome beach resort town/village which is pretty much beyond description.  Because there were 6 of us (at that time) and surfboards, we rented a “Honda” (which was actually a little Suzuki truck with a covered bed, but called a “Honda” by Moroccans), loaded our stuff and rode in the back, resting against our backpacks as we bumped along the back roads on a 1-2 hour trip from Asfi to Oulidia.

Gorgeous beaches, good surf, seafood stalls lined up along the quay, fisherman fishing off cliff faces and small Moroccan fishing vessels float in the ocean and rest along the shore line.  Of course, I have no pictures, because I pretty much wore a t-shirt, swimsuit, and sandals the whole time I was there.

To give you an idea, as we near the beach, there are dozens of little stalls where the fisherman are hawking the day’s catch.  Its not inexpensive by Moroccan standards, but it is so fresh and tasty that its easy to rationalize paying 75 cents for an oyster (something we did with somewhat reckless abandon), $10 per kilo for lobster, and maybe $2 per kilo for sardines, and other fish that I didn’t even know the name of. 

…so we pick out our desired seafood, and then saunter up to one of the many tiny grills lining the beach (basically, coals in a little tray, being constantly fanned with cardboard by the 12 year old son of the “owner”).  Those people have it down to a science, because they will run up and secure your seafood purchase, set up umbrellas in the sand, make you a Moroccan salad (of tomato, onion, oil, spices, etc.), run up to the hanoot and buy cold cokes for you, lay everything down on a mat, cook up your seafood, and bring it all to you as you lounge under the umbrellas.

The whole thing might cost you $7 a piece (which is pretty pricy for Moroccan standards) but we would go crazy, with lobster, crab, shrimp, fish, etc., and as much as you could possibly eat.

Then it’s a game of smashball or surfing, lying in the sun, or walking along the beach.  As you might be able to see from the first Ouladia picture, the beach wraps around to become a thin spit of a peninsula, with the ocean on the exterior and a lagoon on the interior.  Both are breathtaking (with large rock outcroppings in the ocean to add beauty and huge whitewater, crashing waves to the view).  As you walk from the beach toward the lagoon, the peninsula gets thinner and thinner and it also climbs upward and upward, so the view of the ocean on the left and the lagoon and the town to the right is simply spectacular. 

You feel as though you can walk this spit all the way around where it looks to connect with the mainland away to the right, but all of a sudden, you come to a precipice where there is a gap of 100 yards before the peninsula continues on its way, and the drop off is 50 feet or more, with sheer cliffs on both sides.  The thought of jumping off the cliff enters our mind, but there is nothing but sheer rock faces in all directions, and no way to climb back up once you’re in the water.

Its impossible to put into words, but believe me; spectacular!

We stayed in a beautiful house a block from the beach! There were 8 of us, but plenty of room for all.  The way it works is that pretty much every house in the town is potentially available for rent and you just have to talk to people on the street, explain what you’re looking for (proximity to the beach, size, quality, etc.), and they will direct you to either the owner or a “broker” who will get you set up.  We went the high quality route just because we wanted to and with so many of us, the expense wasn’t to crazy. 

The weekend we were there was the last summer weekend, and so most everything was already rented and what was left was very expensive, so we paid a little over $100 a day for the house, but it worked out to less than $40 per person total, because 3 additional volunteers joined our group.  Actually, they were volunteers from Cape Verde and Niger who, coincidentally, recently ended their PC service and chanced to hook up with us as they were vacationing through Morocco on their way back to the States (wonderful people, a cute gal Lee fell in love with and a married couple who met and married while in-site in Niger.]  [Sorry; major run-on sentence.]

Incredible meals were prepared when we weren’t eating on the beach.  …and we knew there were no alcohol outlets in Ouladia, so we went crazy on the way there, and stopped at the Marjane and bought a ridiculous amount of hard alcohol (unheard-of brands of Vodka, Gin, Whisky, and two bottles of Jose Cuervo (lets be real; you can’t do shots of cheap tiquila!).

 We then mixed pretty much everything with grapefruit juice, pina coloda juice, orange juice, lemonade, coke, tonic water, and pretty much anything else we could get our hands on (hey; we’re volunteers for crying out loud).

Then it was drinking games, cards, and other craziness until all hours of the night!  We had so much fun, we extended our stay an extra day.  …and at least a couple of the restaurants sold cold beer (which didn’t make sense to bring because it is difficult to carry and almost impossible to keep cold), so we hung out on the patio and drank cold beer and played cards a couple of times, as well.

After four days of this (not to mention over two weeks in Asfi, living with Ryan, et al), I was actually feeling like perhaps I should head back to my site (what with my European trip looming), so we all headed back to Asfi, I gathered up my other belongings from Ryan’s house, said my tearful good-byes to old and new friends alike, and jetted for the train station, where the last train to my site was leaving in ½ hour.

 My backpack was loaded to the brim and weighed a ton, but no big deal, because the train takes me all the way into my site, right?  … or so it is supposed to.  [Next blog:  The Journey Home When You’re an Idiot.]