Romans- 1, Lacey- 0

Last week was kind of a blur... as usual, consisting of me doing as little homework as possible to scrape by while I plan my weekend get-away to Meknes--for a short time it was Rabat--then Meknes again. The cast from Azrou all resumed their old roles as we piled five into a grand taxi and headed from Ifrane to the grand metropolis of Meknes--the seat of French power during their occupation days. We arrived Friday night with more than enough time to settle into our hostel called Hotel Agadir, eat dinner at a small cafe called Snack Familie (Whether we were eating families or were a family is still up for debate) and tour around the Old City. At some point in the rainy, blustery evening Andrew J got a hankering for a hookah and several hours were spent scouring the new City for the precious flavored leaf... but when we got there, it was clearly not a hang out for the ladies. Andrew C was nice enough to go have tea and an adventure with me, instead. Turns out, I can navigate by landmarks like nobody's business! Not to mention, we all stopped for a snack in a McDonald's with a security guard next to a "Beeza Hut."

Day two: The plan is a small shrine town called Moulay Idriss and the old Roman ruins of Volubilis just outside of Meknes. We all crowd into a Berber tent cafe for an overpriced breakfast before snagging a taxi to Moulay. I must say, every time I travel by Grand Taxi, the views are exquisite. I am never disappointed in the scenery flying by as we zoom through exhaust and donkey feces past honey vendors, olive trees and God's green Earth. As we neared the town, the road opened up to a cliffside view where I swear, you could see forever.

Every time you crawl out of a cramped taxi in Morocco--it's like being born.. you all squeeze out of this tight stuffy space to a whole new world, full of experiences just waiting to happen. Moulay Idriss did not disappoint--it was authentic Morocco at it's core. Before I left the states, I was looking for something... and though I couldn't put a finger on it at the time, I did find it at Moulay. Hiking through the city's haunts and turns, we found ourselves continually going up through the old city, everything growing more and more vertical--the city was built in the style of a keep upon the bedrock of a mountain. At some point, as I paused to take a picture of a beautiful staircase between two white-washed buildings... we all decided to see what was at the top. Carefully, we all walked up and found a goat trail leading straight up through green grass, nettles, and a huge pile of midden. A dead goat hung from a brick wall, and the boys (All wearing shoes better equipped) climbed rocks and took pictures.. I looked up. And there it was. From this spot, we could all see the entirety of the valley... and even Ahmed proclaimed "I've lived in Morocco for 18 years and I've never seen anything like this." It's so far beyond my writing talent to express what happened, but I sat on a rock and wept. Something changed right then and there, and even as I snapped endless photos, I knew it could never convey how I felt as I looked out over this special place. No wonder the shepherds had brought their flocks up here... this place was different, endless.

After lunch, we all crammed into a taxi and were born again to Volubilis--4000 year old Roman ruins from the days of the battle against Carthage. Even after the Romans pulled out in a sorry attempt to save their asses, people still lived at Volubilis until the 1775 Lisbon earthquake when the remaining homesteaders moved to Moulay Idriss (Many inhabitants at Moulay have fair skin and blue/green eyes). Even so, the place is gorgeous.. and is a registered UNESCO site. Many of the biggest artifacts from the 18 hectare archaeological site at in the archae museum in Rabat, but many mosaics and olive presses are still in place. Even before we paid the entrance fee ($1.15) I was squealing with excitement. "OH MY GOD, MY FEET ARE ON A ROMAN ROAD" and "I AM TOUCHING SOMETHING ROMANS BUILT 4000 YEARS AGO" Calm down, Lacey. "NO"

We all paraded around.. once again, the boys had much better footwear.. climbing over stuff, touching, smelling, snapping pictures of ancient history. It occurred to me that no culture ever thinks they will go the way of the Romans. They never thought crazy white people from across the Atlantic would climb on what's left of their trash and old marble... I snapped some beautiful panoramas of the countryside, and the air was so fresh it almost felt like you could up and grab the blue sky. But I guess it was all just too much for one day... I asked Ahmed to take a picture of me in a beautiful patch of green grass... and I tripped over a 4000 year-old foundation.

My memory gets foggy here, but I think I was screaming before I even hit the ground. My ankle made the worst noise I have ever heard, a sickening crunch that ended with a pop. And the next half an hour was complete agony--some of the worst pain I've ever experienced. I screamed to Ahmed that it was broken, and he tried to move me, and stand me back up, whispering "No, no, be strong.. you're ok." I was too scared to test my foot, to see if I could move it, or even look at it. I knew my ankle was in a million crunchy pieces.

I was carried out by Ahmed and Andrew, almost half a mile to the entrance of the ruins while Why called a taxi to come take back to Meknes. I was shivering and in shock for most of it, but couldn't help smiling through my tears as we all made jokes and peeked behind us at the spectacular ruins that served the backdrop for our new Greco-Roman drama..

It took an hour and 45 minutes for the taxi to get there. I was literally trembling with pain as I sat on a stone with my foot propped up on Andrew J's backpack and wrapped in Why's scarf. I took the only pain reliever we had with us... Tylenol PM and after a while didn't care as much that my ankle had swollen to the size of a tennis ball. (Apparently on the trip back to Ifrane, Andrew and Why asked me several times from the back seat if I was ok... and I didn't respond--although I wasn't asleep?)

And after four grievous hours and more Tylenol, we all made it back to Ifrane.. In short, I visited the AUI clinic and recieved some shitty but completely insurance covered medical care. An X-Ray at the bare-walled public hospital in Ifrane revealed that my ankle WASN'T BROKEN (THANK GOD, OR HAMDULILAH), just completely and utterly sprained (Although I still doubt my muscle isn't torn). I'm on crutches that don't fit, and everything hurts--including my hip I fell on, my old injured knee (From last week), and purple bruises from my crutches.

Campus is all stairs, hills and marble walkways... not to mention covered in snow and ice, and treacherous even for bipeds. So class and food is out of the question. I've never felt so helpless in my life. For the first time since I got here, I really wish I was home.

But at least on Saturday, the sun was shining and I had good friends to carry me. THANK YOU SO MUCH.