Never enough

Yesterday, my conversation about 3aisha Qundisha, the mysterious man-eating beauty of Moroccan myth, was interrupted by a visit from another Arabic teacher. She came into my tutoring session because she, like me, is not a native speaker of the language she teaches and loves, and she wanted some tips from the best teacher at my institute: Muhammed Rida. The three of us chatted for a bit about classroom resources, and eventually this lovely woman declared that she aimed to study in Tetouan next summer. Saying so, she turned to me and asked: What do you think, is two weeks here enough? I smiled, caught Rida's eye and explained, you'll get so many precious moments out of two weeks, but nothing will ever be "enough." Since then, I have been coming to terms with the fact that I'll only be here for another two weeks. I have every intention of squeezing the preciousness out of every second.
In sha' allah:
I will drink more Avacado Juice.
I will climb more mountains.
I will speak more Darija (and try to work the Tetouani squeek into the music of my voice, replacing my Syrian drawl-temporarily at least).
I will take more walks on the beach.
I will read the newspaper more.
I will write more summaries of articles about Nature and Sufism.
I will eat more tagines of more varieties.
I will be so sad to leave.
And of course, it will be so good to be home.