I guess this is a better time than never to start posting on a blog since my budget for postcards and phone calls is nearing (over) it´s limit. I got depressed the other day when I was robbed by someone in Granada, partly because I had a bit o´cash, my credit card, and my driver´s license (I would seriously pay a pretty penny to never have to deal with the DMV again, and this is coming from someone who has been working with Moroccan bureaucracy for the last month). I was really bummed, though, because I had just bought new stamps and was ready to send out some letters.
It´s been quite interesting to see the reaction of Spaniards to my brilliantly-executed pickpocketing, though I´m not necessarily suprised. When I went to report it to the police, they assured me that the thief must have been Moroccan, a sentiment echoed by pretty much every Spaniard I talk to. Yep, I am pretty sure there was no Moroccan involved, since it happened in a bar where, if a Moroccan were to enter, the world would come to a halt.
Even worse, for the police and everyone else, is that I actually work in Morocco, a concept which is beyond their understanding, even as they wander these amazing cities built by Arabs, and speak this language which would not exist as it is without its Arabic precursors. What I usually don´t get the chance to tell them is that, even here in Granada, my closest friends are mostly Moroccans, immigrants, or Muslims, and usually all three. Granadinos don´t make it easy to start up a conversation, and I don´t even have a language barrier to deal with.

On a lighter note, I really do love Granada and have really enjoyed living here. There are so many amazing little shops and restaurants that I discover every day. The award for the best ever, however, has to go to our favorite little bar, el Rincón de Michael Landon, which comes complete with a shrine to the prince of Little House on the Prairie and a Wednesday night trivia game called Trivial Landon Pursuit. Yes, we go every Wednesday. We won once. We got our asses handed to us on a platter once, too.

I have been to Morocco four times, and led two of my own groups. After being overwhelmed for a minute, I am finally figuring out how to be in Morocco on my own terms. It´s made a huge difference in how I feel about my job, although there are still a lot of doubts I have about the organization and the effects we have in Morocco. They are generally overshadowed by the reactions of the people who come on the trip. Without fail (even after a Bubonic plague-like flu from Spain left 10 of 15 people with explosive, well... everything), they leave with a whole new perspective of Islam and Africa and globalization. And they LOVE Morocco.
Still, I had a stint last week where I was really feeling dismal about everything (and the news of tons of snow falling in Colorado made me homesick). My wallet was snatched. My beautiful and strong horse, Nickers, is not too long for this world, and Bracket, her partner in crime, has never been without her. I miss my doggy-snuggles and my mama, and I wish I could have been there for my brother´s birthday. I had a massive breakout.

Then goodness happened. My boss called me the other day to see if I would be interested in developing a two-day program in Alpujarras, in the beautiful Sierra Nevada mountains in Spain. There is a really rich history in the area, as the Arabs managed to stay deep in the mountains for almost a hundred years after the rest of the Muslims and Jews were forced out of Granada in 1492. I get to lead a program of 6-8 students to the 500 year-old house of some friends, which runs almost entirely on solar and wind power. They grow most of their food, and are almost entirely self-sufficient.
Along the way, we will hike, sleep in tents, learn about basket-weaving and organic cooking, and generally get to do really awesome things while talking about alternatives to the consumer-taker-user-dominator bubble around us. The goal is to have some US students and some Moroccans on the trip together, but I will be happy to just fill my first trip.

Well, there it is. The first real entry. Now I´ll figure out how to get some pictures onto this things, and you can see the beautiful place where I live. I hope you all voted today, because the rest of the world is waiting to see how long it takes us to wake up. Go KEN GORDON!!!!!
I love and miss you all, and would love to get a letter or email to know that you are well.
Peace. H