I have come to the realization that

I have come to the realization that despite how much I miss Morocco, if I went back now to live there, I would be disappointed. Not because I don't like Morocco (if you've ever read an entry of this blog you KNOW that is not the case) but because I remember Morocco a certain way. I remember getting up every morning, awoken by the sound of the teapot whistling. I remember eating hobz wamlou every morning. I remember heading to school on the 13 or the 10-I preferred the 10 because it wasn't crowded with University students- and getting off at the Gueliz Central Market. I remember walking along the same road, past the terrible smelling garbage piles, past the restaurants, past the health clinic, and then down the road past the yellow school buses. I remember usually being the first at school because I hated being late.
That is how I remember Morocco. I remember hanging out with friends, getting coffee, talking about many different things. If someone had told me that all of these would be memories, and I would no longer be living it, I would have been heartbroken. But I somehow pushed the "leaving" part of the exchange out of my mind.
If I returned to Morocco, I would be surprised because I wouldn't have the usual schedule anymore. 99% of what makes an exchange is being there in the moment. Now, Im not very good at that, even now I'm thinking about starting University instead of enjoying my last days in Italy. But I have gotten significantly better at living and being present in the moment. Obviously it is something that comes with age, something that comes with experience. The United States of America harbors a society which is monochronic-planners ahead, always looking towards the future-and not necessarily everybody fits the mold of a monochronic personality. I found myself much more at ease while I was living in a society which is polychronic. A big part of a poluchronic society is the relaxed nature of the people there. Take Morocco, for example. Everyone is very relaxed, thinking about the present and appreciating everything they have. By making this observation, I am by no means saying that monochronic people are incapable of appreciating everything they have, they just appreciate in a different way.

How does this all tie in to my realization? I'm not sure yet. Perhaps I'm trying to tell myself that it's ok, completely normal, to miss Morocco and my life there; but it is unrealistic to think that going back will make me happy again. Im sure that I will be very happy at university, taking interesting classes, and most importantly it is somewhere I can grow as a person. That's one thing living in Morocco did for me. I became much more sure of my values, morals, what I could be more or less lenient about. I was able to discover that my love for the Arabic language wasn't just a passing phase or a language I wanted to check off my list; rather it is something I plan on continuing to study for the rest of my life. I discovered what I want (more or less) in life, and what type of friends I want.

My friends from home might not see how I have changed, they might say that I look the same, or I am the same person. But I know and my family in Morocco knows, that as a person, I couldn't be more different from when I first set foot in Morocco. 

Letting go

It's been about a week since I've been back. In the beginning, it was very very difficult. It was hard to not hear my host family walking about, making tea, and arguing as I usually heard them. It was difficult to see how individualized out society is, no one seeming to care about others. It was difficult to understand why anyone would want to live in a society in which humans don't really interact. It was very difficult to get into a schedule. I felt as if I had no purpose; I was no longer studying Arabic or working, I was just kind of living my life and it felt weird.

But now, I feel a bit better about being back. Honestly, the best thing for me was to just ignore the fact that I wasn't feeling at home in the United States. So I adopted the idea of viewing my life here through a "study abroad" lens. It made things a whole lot easier. Viewing things through that lens allowed me to made critical observations about the US and it allows me to understand a bit better, why certain decisions are made. I do like the US, I just don't really feel at home here. There is a very small sense of community, and it is only brought out when tragedies strike, which is a pity. It's a pity because the bond that exists is so strong, and I believe it would help the US succeed as a nation, even more than it is.

So re-entry has been interesting, to say the least. Im glad to be back for a short period of time; and working has allowed me to shift my thoughts from "why am I no longer in Morocco" to "goodness I really dislike this trivial job", which in some ways is healthier.

So until my next adventure takes off, I don't think I'll be using this blog for a while. I'll probably write something in regards to moving across country for college in the fall, but that's about it.

Bsalama, wnshufek min ba3d!
-Safia 

Being back is hard.

You get asked "How was Morocco?" and then you can't stop talking about it. You get asked "where were you again" to only be able to squeeze out an answer, and then the other person moves on to a more "interesting" subject. You compare everything to Morocco, your life there.

It's really hard to be back in a life that I knew so well, and then left. I feel as if I don't belong, I feel as if everyone has gone on with their life, aside from me. I haven't seen anyone from my graduating class, none of my friends because they're not home yet. I'm worried about seeing them because I don't know what we'll talk about. I don't know how it will be, seeing them. They will have changed as well. I just want to go back to Morocco. But I know that even if I go back, it will not be the same. Part of me needs that closure. I need to be reassured that it is not the same that I left it. So much of what made my experience were the people I was with. The other NSLI-Y students.

The main problem is that I have no idea how to deal with these feelings of belonging and difference. But I'm sure that with time, i'll learn how to deal with them. 

All these emotions

I'm sitting in an airport in New York waiting for our flight to DC. I've been crying for the past 24 hours. I miss Morocco, I miss my family, I miss everyone and everything there so much. My host sister sent me a clip of my host mom saying something to me, and so far I've listened to it twice, and cried both times. If I listen to it one more time I won't stop the crying. I want to go back, I don't know how long I can stay in the US for. I miss Morocco, a country in which I think I changed more than I have ever changed in my entire life.

مغربية حتى الموت

I will be back, dont you dare doubt me. 

Final Thoughts

It’s hard to encompass the idea of exchange in to a single paper, no matter how long. My experience in Morocco has been like no other. I have become part of a family, made friendships that will last me a lifetime, and most importantly, I have learned so much about myself as a person. 

Moving to vastly different country with very different values and customs makes you seriously appreciate what you have back home, and what things you come to realize are values that you cannot let go of. As I have lived here, I have noticed that family plays the most important role in life. Back in the states, family is the most important thing to me, although we express it in a different way. 

As opposed to many “typical” Moroccan families, my host family didn’t often show their love and affection towards each other. Despite consistently telling me that Moroccans don’t go off and do their own thing in their own rooms, that is what I continued to see day after day. My host brother, who has maybe spoken a total of 20 words to me since I’ve arrived in Morocco, spends all of his time playing video games on the computer. My host dad, despite being the sweetest man I have ever met, was never really around, and has a very distant relationship to his children. My host mother, on the other hand, is always doing everything to make this family function. With her Quranic radio station playing out of her portable radio, she moves from room to room, cleaning and making the house a better place to live. So in terms of spending time together, I had to become accustomed to not spending much time with my host family; the little time we spent together was cherished and the memories were stored away for a time in which I would want to recall them. I do truly love my host family, all of their quirks, and am so grateful for everything they've done for me in these past 8 months. 

Secondly, the daughters relationship to her father. In the states, I have what I like to think is a rather close and good relationship with my father. We talk, laugh, hug, go on adventures, among many other things. Here, I noticed that my host sister occasionally but very rarely spends time with her father. Girls in general are expected to be closer to their mothers, rather than their fathers. Therefore, I have been lacking a father figure for the entirety of this year, and it’s an interesting thought. I would often sit in the salon and talk for hours with my host mother about religion, life, what i wanted in life, and many other personal topics. The only conversation I can remember with my host father in which we scratched more than the surface was at the very beginning, in which we spoke about Bill Clinton and what I thought of Obama. Regardless, having my host father’s presence even if it is a scarce one, has been a valuable experience and part of my exchange. 

I could go on and explain more about how my life in the United States is vastly different from my life here, but then I would feel as if I had kind of lost the idea and meaning of exchange. It’s not to continuously compare what I had and what I have, but rather to try and understand what I have gained and lost from this exchange, and how the country and culture have made an impact on my life that I will take back to the United States. As for now, I can only recognize the fact that I have changed. I don’t know how, and I don’t know which aspects of Moroccan culture initiated these changes. Then again this is why exchange never really ends, because you will spend your whole life understanding what exactly changed you; that’s the beauty of exchange. 

Khalas

I finished my Arabic course on Friday. We took our final and that's that.

It feels weird, having all this time and nothing to do. I really did enjoy my Arabic class, and we even finished Al Kitaab 1 so that's kinda exciting. Im relieved to be done, though. We finally finally have a break.

So in addition to buying souvenirs for my friends, I am in the process of figuring out what to pack and what to leave behind. I am essentially leaving all of my clothes behind in Morocco, because I have too many things to bring back. But it's ok, it just gives me an excuse to re-stock when I get to the states. Its a strange feeling, leaving a place that i've known as home for the past 8 months. No more stone floors, no more birds flying in and out of my room. Back to hardwood floors, back to large windows, back to pavements that aren't broken. I cant quite explain my feelings yet, so I will wait to write a mushy gushy post. But trust me it's coming. 

Why I'm so afraid of leaving

I think this was also why I was afraid of leaving home. I left a world I knew, a life I knew and had lived for 18 years. But now going back, I expect life to be the same as it was when I left it, even though I know, logically, that will never happen. I have left home, but just because I left, doesn't mean that life there has stopped.
I'm terrified of leaving because I will Marrakech in one way, and when/if I come back, I will expect Marrakech to stay exactly the same. But the reality is that Marrakech (and everywhere) is changing. People will have graduated, gotten married, moved, and life will have moved on. That is precisely why I am so terrified of leaving. I have learned to love Marrakech the way it is; 5 people to a moped Marrakech, Crazy Boys Marrakech, touristy crowded Marrakech...and I have learned to love the people here.

That is my main problem. If I could leave and Marrakech would stay the same, I would have no problem with it.