I have a test tomorrow, which actually means more time for the blog, as silly as that might seem. That means you get a longer update on our situation.
J is doing better, sort of. She stayed home from school today for the first time, and that's sad. However, yesterday we went to the pharmacy to get her some medicine, and between that and the rest she got today, she is doing better. Besides, staying home today means she's less likely to stay home tomorrow. Since they serve Couscous (our favorite dish) on Fridays, this was an important consideration. We have our priorities.
Speaking of the pharmacy, J got three items of medicine: cough drops, an Airborne type supplement, and some regular cough medicine. She got all of this for about ten dollars. Have I mentioned that we like the prices here?
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In other news, we're supposed to be moved into our apartment by Monday. I'm a little afraid to write about how excited I am, as you might understand. I am also not going to rehash all of the travelling we've done, again.
I am going to try to explain why we keep looking forward to settling in, and why we keep complaining when we find out that we're moving again. It might surprise you to hear it, but J and I don't really like to travel.
Seriously, we don't. We didn't sleep on four different continents (okay, so I'll do a little rehashing) within our first month of marriage because we wanted to see as many hotel rooms as possible. We did it because it's what we thought we had to do to get to the place we want to be in life. If it weren't for that, we never would have left.
Travelling, for us, is exhausting, frustrating, and expensive. It's a bunch of waiting around punctuated by frantic worry made all the more awful by the necessity of having to babysit (and transport) hundreds of pounds of luggage most of the time. That's not our idea of a good time.
On the other hand, we love being places. We're really rather boring, in that respect. Here in Morocco, our idea of a good time is strolling through the souq (market place), digging through a Moroccan bookstore, or reading through a good book in some idealic location, preferably on a balcony. That's part of why we wanted to be abroad for so long this time around. We don't mind seeing strange things, but the real attraction is making the strange things familar. The parts of Morocco that we like, we like because we think they're good, and not because they're different.
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| This is a picture of one of the local parks from across the street. |
We didn't come to Morocco so we could visit twenty different sites, race camels, or meet an exotic stranger (though J insists that I either let her adopt a Moroccan child or she'll find a way to make one on her own, whatever that means). We came here because (most importantly) we want to learn Arabic, we want to understand this part of the world, and we like quietly sipping strong mint tea with our simple but delicious breakfast.
Moving around casts a pall on all that. Living out of a suitcase is a constant reminder, "You won't be here long. Don't get comfortable, you'll be gone soon." Reading a book is less satisfying in those conditions. In many ways, I don't really understand the attraction of a weeklong vacation. I understand the attraction of a weeklong break, but not a weeklong vacation. If you don't have time to unpack, I don't see the point in packing in the first place. It reminds me of a quote from my favorite author, "Man cannot love mortal things. He can only love immortal things for an instant." If I can't spend the rest of my life doing something, if it won't make me happy at least that short speck of time, it isn't enough.
So you see, J and I are both just domestic, boring people. We just happen to prefer being domestic and boring in North Africa to being domestic and boring in the States. It might be an odd preference, but it's ours, and having a home to be domestic in for more than a month is wonderful.
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| And besides, we have all the comforts of home right here in Rabat |
