going home and i lost my phone

Posted in Uncategorized by Diana on April 15, 2011

In Morocco, returning to site means:

  • Waking up at 4:45am to catch reliable transit out of Tata
  • My phone slipping out of my pocket somewhere as I board the transit out of Tata.
  • Being offered someone’s seat on the bus
  • Transferring buses at a transportation hub
  • Sitting next to a Moroccan guy who doesn’t understand the concept of personal space
  • Sitting next to said Moroccan guy who interprets each move away from him as me playing hard to get
  • Having my Tashleheit discovered by other passengers when all I want is to sleep and be left alone on the bus
  • Realizing that said Moroccan guy’s destination is the same as mine. Ugh.
  • Almost getting back to site. Having to stop and make a quick purchase at a produce stand because I have no food at home. Correction: I have rotting produce at home which means I still need food.
  • Having said Moroccan guy sit next to me during the taxi ride between my transit hub and my site.
  • Having said Moroccan guy “offer” me his phone number when I told him I wasn’t interested in swapping numbers during the previous bus ride.
  • Saying “No, thank you” to said Moroccan guy as he offers me his number, which is scribbled on a torn sheet of paper that was crumbled into a ball. Yes, I witnessed this during the previous bus ride too. Moroccan guys are becoming quite predictable in this sense. I foresee events unfold from the first few moments I interact with them, which is why I so often choose not to interact with them in the first place. If only they would stop trying to talk to me.

I’m finally back home now. My house is a mess, to say the least. It is dusty and dirty. Oh, and need I mention that there’s a new birdhouse? Welcome home to me.

I want to work in the field of saving lives. That’s all.


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