Watching the waves

I have yet to tire of seeing the ocean. I don't think I ever will. I pinch myself that I get to see it everyday here, and listen to the waves every morning and evening. I can eat breakfast on the patio that overlooks the ocean and watch the swells. There's a surf school down the road, but I have my doubts about swimming in this water since certain areas have sewage draining directly into the ocean, such a shame. This past week, I've walked along dirt roads in the neighborhood where I'm staying and have glimpses of the ocean between homes, and I often just stop and stare. There's a fish factory at the end of a driveway and I can't help but think what a gorgeous bit of property on which it sits.

There's also a beautiful highway - the Corniche, it's called here - that connects the northern and southern parts of the city. The road runs parallel to the ocean and passes by a lighthouse that sits atop a hill, a mosque, embassies, and beaches where every morning groups of men are exercising.

We take the Corniche every morning to get to the study site and I watch the sunrise from the taxi. There's a certain peacefulness in the early hours of the morning by the ocean, but by the time we reach the clinic downtown, the city is fully awake and bustling with energy. I smell smoke from fires over which women are cooking, see shops opening with tools, batteries, and plastics for sale inside the shacks, vegetable stands set up, people peeling oranges on wheelbarrow carts, and watch goats eating from piles of garbage. We dodge traffic - taxis, minibuses, horse-drawn carriages, and mopeds. It's a bit of sensory overload at 7:30 in the morning but I enjoy seeing the different parts of the city through the sites we visit for work.