Aching

I left Rabat less than 24hrs ago and already my heart is aching. Not for people, but for a situation. An environment in which I was constantly forced to learn– quickly–is one I craved for years.  Yes, at times the speed of Arabic, French, and Darija were whelming.  Yet, I feel that if I were to travel alone I would not be as emotionally split I was.  It’s one thing to care for yourself while traveling in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language. It’s another more intense thing to do so while responsible for 13 students and 2 co instructors.  I couldn’t be the traveler I wanted to be because we stuck out so much.  But, that’s what I signed up for…this time.

I’m, as hard as it is :), simultaneously writing a cover letter and updating my resume to apply for a job teaching in Rabat. I don’t know when this would occur, but I would LOVE to move there with my dog and learn to speak Darija and French (the latter by default, not because I want to). I can see myself doing well.  I’d live in Rabat or Salé in a little apartment with Garvey and teach during the week. I would love to learn more about the theatre scene there as well.  I’m not interested in politics, and while dressing conservatively in the small village in which I spent my time was difficult.  That difficulty was mostly along the lines of having brought a limited wardrobe.  I was there to build a bridge, not to socialize.  The clothing I brought reflected that.  Granted, I also hated not being able to sit on the roof in shorts and a tank top. That was very difficult. Let me not glamorize that. , I could definitely see myself in the city though, especially if I was able to wear some of my cute jeans and tops.

This desire to return to Rabat feels solid.  It feels like the timing is right. I could still spend time with my grandfather in the States and relocate to Rabat in the near future. It feels right for now and that feels good.

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