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I should have realized that climbing a sand dune was not like climbing a mountain the moment I set my foot down and my shoe disappeared into the sand. The difference became obvious. When one climbs a mountain, it is expected that where one places one’s foot will be the place it stays. Climbing a sand dune, however, does not afford that luxury. I noticed that no matter how far I placed my stride, my foot would always end up sinking back down halfway or more.
Another difference is that when one climbs a mountain, one can stop and be safe to assume that they would simply continue where they left off. Not so with a sand dune. I noticed that when I took my first break the small bush I had passed a while earlier had managed to climb up to meet me.
After the first twenty minutes of this, my legs decided to tell me what they thought of me. As I trudged through the sand, I began to get sharp pains in my thighs and calves. No, I thought, I can’t give up. I looked behind me, and there was Princess Leia, a few feet behind me.
“Reach for me!” I called out to her. Princess Leia looked up, smiled, and struggled a few feet to clutch onto my hand. Rather than pull her up to me, however, we ended up in a middle ground between the two of us. The actions of the people ahead of us had caused a mini sand avalanche, and distinct sound emerged from the dune.
“It sounds just like water.” I said.
“You’re right,” she replied, “it does.”
“It’s like we’re climbing a waterfall.”
I thought of everything I went through to get here. Not at this dune, but in the Peace Corps. Over a year’s worth of tests, interviews, and evaluations. I had been through weddings that lasted until sunrise and funerals that lasted for days. I had been through so many bacteria and diseases that I considered myself a microscopic Noah’s Ark. There have been times when I wanted to go home. All of my insecurities kept bubbling up into my mind. You can’t even get a project going in your site, I thought, You shouldn’t even be here. What would I do if I gave up now? What would I do if I couldn’t climb this dune? What would happen if I went home?
I turned back to the top of the dune, my strength restored, and continued upward. My eyes began to pop out of my head from the strain, and my legs were on the verge of mutiny. I climbed, one step at a time, with the river of sand flowing beneath my feet. I listened to the sound of the sand and remembered a dawn I spent on a beach with a friend before coming to Morocco. The ocean waves and the sand made the same noise. Everything was continually breathing out, sighing, as though to say we have seen all of this before. You were not the first here, nor will you be the last. Some volunteers had already made it to the top, and I could finally begin to make out their faces as I inched closer and closer.
“You can do it.” They called out to me.
The only sounds I could muster were low growls. I leaped forward and strained to reach the top. Finally, I made it. The sand flattened and I could finally rest. I had done it. If I could climb this dune, I could do anything. I could serve these entire two years. I will serve these entire two years.
Continue to Part 3
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