Girls walk linked arm-in-arm wearing new starched white lab coats. The smaller kids in blue button-down uniform jackets run through the streets. Their backpacks bounce side to side and look oversized on their tiny backs. The donut svinj shop across the street from the high school has reopened. Middle schoolers by the hundreds push through the one door open into Kacem Amine’s courtyard and I am just one of the crowd.

I sit in the teacher’s lounge with a glass of tea, catching up with the teachers who remember me and I introduce myself to many others I’ve never met. I thought it would be back to business: lessons to teach, values to instill, minds to mold and all that but it just feels like a pleasant get-together of friends. The bell rings, teachers and students slowly sort into classrooms. Math class starts 15 minutes late.

Am I the only one that remembers last year’s last-minute scramble to cram in a month’s worth of material the week before end-of-year exams?