Tuesday, July 20, 2010

A vacation home

I just finished a fantastic vacation to the USA. It’s strange calling a trip to your hometown a vacation but that’s truly was it was. A vacation from the many things that get me going on a daily basis here in Morocco. Most of you were there so I will spare you all the details. But everything about it was great and busy and full of love. I had the time of my life at Kahley’s wedding where I could be glamorous, proper, and honored. Even though I was busy everyday it was the easiest 17 days I have had in a long time. Easy because I was doing everything that was making me happy, in the places that I feel my best.

We all knew the worst part about this was when it would come time for me to leave again. Near the end of my vacation I just wanted to get the actual travel over with and just wanted to get back to Morocco so I could work on getting back to the USA for good.

I didn’t realize what difficulties were awaiting me. I thought things would be easier since I knew what I was coming back to. But in a short 17 days it’s like I almost forgot what life in Morocco was like. I started to go though culture shock all over again. And it had felt like I was never here. Only this time instead of shock I was quite annoyed. Annoyed by the fact that I couldn’t wear a seatbelt in a car quickly weaving though traffic. The fact that I couldn’t walk the street for more than one minute without hearing “bonjour Madame.”

The best part of coming back now is that I have my own private apartment to come home to. Which is all I needed at this point. A place to feel safe, alone, and free to be what I am. But the past couple days in this apartment have been strange and tough. I’m trying to see if I can watch enough t.v. and movies on my computer to feel ok again. Meanwhile listening to the endless live soap opera put on by my neighbors amplified in the hallway.

I never realized how hard an easy lifestyle can be. By easy I mean that I set my own work schedule, which is not very much, and I am able to do what I want mostly all the time. And by hard I mean struggling to communicate the most basic things, losing much of my liberation as a woman, and being confined to an apartment when there is just no place else to go.

I know that with time this readjustment process will be over and maybe I can regain some normalcy in my life again. Through all this my new motto is that this is all temporary. Both in the since to remind me that this discomfort won’t last forever and to remind me to live in the moments that will be gone before I know it.