Rain, rain...

For those of you who saw us this summer - remember how we said it is like perpetual fall here? Remember when we whined that we never get thunderstorms? Remember that we said it barely rains or snows except January - April?

Well, forget all that.

To back up a bit, when we arrived on July 5, 2006 we had no rain until late October. Last year was better, but not by much. Twenty years into a drought, the last few years have been the most brutal on Morocco. Springs are drying up. Villages are running out of water. Farmers fight the land. Entire lakes have disappeared - three in our immediate area alone. Living on the edge of the world's largest and ominously growing desert adds fear to an already stark situation. Day after day, Morocco's gorgeous cobalt-blue skies have seemed to mock the country.


But right now, all that is forgotten. Morocco has had so much rain and wild storms in the last two months that roads have been washed out, bridges down south torn apart, people's possessions and food have been carried away, entire crops washed away, and, in the north, there have been multiple drownings.

Wondering how much rain it takes to reverse a 20-year drought, I was told it will take about 10 years of this.

Two weeks ago, we had a terrific hurricane-like storm. Rain came horizontally from opposite sides on the house, the thunder roared and the lightning was almost continuous. The next day, tree branches were down and leaves were scattered all over the roads. But that was not all.

The rain in another part of town turned into a flash flood which roared down a ravine in Ifrane and raged right through the poorest neighborhoods. Built in stair-step fashion, many of the lower houses have one high window much like a basement window that looks into the neighbor's yard. As the muddy waters descended, they rushed in through the high windows of these homes and, with no place to go, filled the lowest houses up with rushing water and mud. Our church, with the help of some from the USA, helped fund the replacement of furniture in three of the worst-hit homes. Below are pictures and stories from our visit to these places after they had recovered a bit.


Meet Badr, and 18-year-old who has cerebral palsy. At the time of the flood, he and his three siblings were in the house alone. When the water gushed in, his siblings ended up clinging onto the window above while holding he and his mattress up as well. You can see the water mark just to the right of the window. Keep in mind that most Moroccans cannot swim. Mercifully, neighbors broke through the window and pulled the terrified Badr and his siblings out. Most windows have metal bars on them - thank God this one did not.
At the second home we visited, the teenage girls insisted we all get henna. This girl did mine and at the same time the others were practically forcing me to eat - a rather difficult thing to do when one hand has wet henna (you can't touch anything) and the other is being decorated! This father was about to go to the mosque when his elder son begged him to stay. A few minutes later, the entire house filled with water and mud. The littlest was strapped on the mother's back, and with the father's help, they all got out. Later the governor would not come and visit this community whose houses had been flooded, possessions destroyed, and food ruined (except for one loaf of bread which floated to the very top of the house because it was in a plastic bowl). This man stood in front of the governor's car and refused to move until the governor got out and spoke with him. As a result, the entire neighborhood was given flour and other food.
The furniture our church and folks back in the States bought. The mat on the floor is plastic. The reason for the houses being flooded - we are entering from one person's courtyard and going down into the neighbor's house. The water gushed down the stairs and into the window "like a river." The window at the left is where Badr and his siblings were pulled out.

I used to think a flood was just a lot of water. But it's so much more than that - mud, sewage, debris. But we are so thankful to God that none of these precious people died.