Between Portland and Morocco, I have stopped over in Colorado to see mom for a week; my sister will fly in tomorrow so that the three of us can have a few days before I'm Morocco-bound next Tuesday.
Despite the fact that I'm 33, I'm still the baby of the family. And despite the ground rules that I've attempted to set with mom, such as establishing a “No Advice Zone” and my special “mute button” hand signals indicating that I am ending the discussion, she still chuckles at and largely disregards me (or else the mute button only works for 10 minutes at a time); and admittedly, I'm chuckling, too.
So aside from enjoying the motherly pampering and eating like a queen (I will likely gain 10 pounds on my mom's cooking and her collection of 101 desserts by the time I leave), not to mention receiving so much motherly advice that it's a wonder that I survive the other 360 days of the year (ha), I've been running all those last minute errands I didn't have time for in Portland, including hunting down a new power adaptor for my laptop, that started blinking out and gave me a little scare when several techie guys suggested it was the computer instead.
As I'm transitioning from my Portland life to my strangely familiar home town, I'm gradually feeling even more and more ready to step into the next chapter, particularly towards a non-Western society. Oh, how I can't wait to be rid of all the SUVs, the malls, the fast food joints, the simply mind-blowing material excess that our culture possesses and yet doesn't seem to be aware of possessing, much less appreciate. And I'm sure there will be plenty of Westernization to witness in Morocco, but it won't be quite like this. Somehow, I have this idea that life will feel more pure and raw there, that when life doesn't revolve around wealth or keeping up with the Joneses. it can be a more authentic life; it is that authenticity that I seek. Of course, I may be proved completely wrong here. But so help me god, if I see a Starbucks within my first few days in Morocco, I'm going to be crushed.
So although my leaving still feels mostly surreal, Portland is feeling further away and stepping off the plane in Casablanca is more and more on my mind now that the to-do list is down to a few last items. There are still so many unknowns: how I will get to the train station from the airport to take the train to Tetouan, who my host family is, what will happen once I get there, speaking only about 3 words of Arabic when they speak no English...
But after 9 months of planning this trip, I'm actually quite ready to just wing it for awhile and figure things out as I go. Man, am I sick of planning, to-do lists and making phone calls! Now it's just time to go live it; I'm craving spontaneity and frankly, am just ready to throw my pack on my back and just go do this thing!
