Addicted to Workahol

About 30-40 young people attended the first environment club meeting on Saturday. It was tedious, but, after pulling a few teeth, the club was officially founded and engraved on the dar chebab roster. Those of us who were going to put on the meeting were a rag tag group: an American, another American who can only communicate in Tamazight, a middle-aged guy who left school in fifth grade, and a struggling university student. In fact, we were so rag tag that uh we actually were unable to manage the meeting on our own. The guys I work with totally came to the rescue and facilitated everything, and I've never felt so thankful to them. It was a momentous step in our relationship (knock on wood ancha allah), and the meeting itself was a testimonial to not give up--I had been pretty discouraged after the attempted meeting that didn't have a single attendant. Our next meeting is Friday at 6:30...we'll see if anyone shows up to that one.

The reading competition starts tomorrow. I'm about 75% prepared, which is unfortunate because I'm spending tomorrow morning in Nearby Large City in order to check out a couple associations. It'll work out, ancha allah. A hanger-outer (I've got to stop saying "student," because I really don't teach much anymore) stayed 40 minutes after the dar chebab officially closed in order to help me enter the names of Arabic books in the library into my Excel spreadsheet.

Working with teens and kids is like a terrible and addictive drug. I'm not saying that to make myself sound good or revel in their divine innocence. It really weirds me out to find how much I'm liking it. They're just so eager for intellectual, cultural, and social stimulation, and so ready to think I'm awesome, that I get a very quick return on all investments with them, and it's incredibly rewarding and, as I said, addictive. This is unfortunate because then one is inclined to spend all one's paycheck on stupid art supplies or something.

I'm anxious about the evening of activities for International Women's Day on the 8th. I got someone to agree to be the MC at least. I don't know why I'm so apprehensive about having things I plan crash and burn.

The weekend of traffic safety activities (which I had nothing to do with in terms of planning) went really well I think. I did hand out some flyers while saying, "Speed kills."