A Love of Reading.

As I child, I loved to read. I think this was due in great part to my mother's constant encouraging (pushing) of us to read, even going so far as to require "reading hours" after our homework was done and before the TV ever got turned on. Since my mother was a stickler for our TV watching, just as she was for our after homework reading, (I never saw a Friends episode until I got to college), it was probably better that we read instead of being frustrated by the lack of "approved" channels and shows.

When I was about ten or eleven years old, I shoveled our entire driveway after a big (for St. Louis anyway) snow storm. It took me the better part of an entire day to complete the daunting, uphill task. My reward, a book. Yes, I shoveled snow all day for a book and trip with my Dad to the bookstore. (I don't need to be reminded of how nerdy I am, this story says enough).

I share this somewhat embarrassing story with you to make a point. Reading is a luxury and we are lucky that we can. If you are reading this right now, you are a part of a very lucky, very small percentage of people worldwide that can read. That is a gift, something we should be grateful for.

This point hit me hardest when I was visiting my host family for lunch a few weeks ago. I brought with me the book I was reading at the time (Packing for Mars) because everything in my host family's world takes hours to complete, even simple tasks such as lunch. At some point during the long process, I usually get bored of watching my host sister cook and run out of things to say in Tashlheet, so I head to living room and crack open my book. After the Cous Cous was served and the dishes piled, my host sister, Khadija (Ha-de-ja) joined me in the living room and started questioning me about my book.
In the best language I could, I started explaining all about NASA, the race to the Moon, America and Russia in the 1960's and what it would take for people to go to Mars. After the glazed over look appeared, I asked her if she enjoyed reading. Mind you, she told me when I first moved in that she graduated high school, when indeed she did not, she did complete the 9th grade, but that was all. Weary of her not always truthful answers, she started going on and on about how much she loved reading and how after seeing me read so often, she started reading instead of watching TV. Ecstatic, I asked her to bring down some of the books she had been reading.

When she came back downstairs she had a pile of French magazines, these were her "books". She doesn't read French and cannot speak more than basic vocabulary, but yet these magazines were her "books". Most of them were cooking magazines, some were gossip type pieces, all sent from her aunts who live in France.

It was in that moment that I realized what different playing fields we were on, I might as well have been from Mars asking an earthling. Her "reading" comprised of looking at pictures. How could I ever share with her my extreme love of books and reading, when her reading was so far different from my own? How could this key part of my identity be so misunderstood despite our strong friendship?

I often wonder if the children here will ever know the real joy that comes from reading. When my youngest sister Maddy moved into our home nearly 8 years ago she didn't posses this love of reading that was instilled in the rest of my family. She struggled at it and hadn't yet discovered the pleasure that books can bring. Eight years later, books are all she can talk about. From the newest Twilight book, to the Harry Potter she just finished, or the novel she was assigned to read in class and fell in love with, reading has enveloped her life. I think she is better off for it.

It seems worlds away in my small village in southern Morocco. Parents in America are reading their unborn child "Baby Einstein" books and finishing every day with a bedtimes story, long before the children can even talk.

In my village, the children do not even have access to books to read. There are no public libraries nearby and my local high-school has a library room that doesn't contain a single book. I have heard so many times that knowledge brings power, yet how can the children here attain "knowledge" with nothing to read? How can they expect to learn about the world and themselves when their only information source is the TV?

During my time in Morocco I have embraced the pliable work schedule and ample free time. I have filled this time with books. Books provide enjoyment, knowledge and most importantly the opportunity to practice English so I do not return home with worse language than when I left. I often wonder how village Moroccans fill their time without books since reading comprises a great portion of my day. I only wish they could read and enjoy the stories as I do, if only to serve as a temporary escape from the day-to-day reality of life in the bled.

Reading has brought so much excitement and happiness into my life. I love the stale smell of a library full of books. I am entranced by a hardback book with crisp pages and the way it feels in my hands. I am captivated by the stories told and topics learned. Most of all, I cherish this breathtaking gift I was given, the ability to read.

P.S. I just finished reading, Packing For Mars; the Curious Science of Life in the Void, a witty and intelligent book by Mary Roach about life in space and the affects space has on the human body. I laughed the entire way through it. I recommend this non-fiction masterpiece to any space junkie interested in what life is like outside of the Star Trek/ Star Wars universe.



My newest book is Where the Wild Things Are; Life, Death, and Ecological Wreckage in a Land of Vanishing Predators by William Stolzenburg about the relationships keystone predators play on ecosystems all over the world. I am 100 pages in and cannot put this book down. This is a great book for anyone interested in general ecology and the effects of predator/ prey relationships (aka Miss Natalie Rada). It is sort of like the General Ecology course I took in college, minus the boring mini-themes.