The Whole Story - Part 3

The End?

As the end of my service approached, I had to plan my next move. Mohamed and I didn't talk about my departure much, but there was an understanding that I was leaving and he was staying. Due to immigration and visa policies, there were only two options if I wanted to pursue the relationship. I could stay, or I could bring him back to the States on a fiance visa. With a fiance visa, we'd have to get married within three months of entering the states.

Mohamed's first time bowling, one of our last excursions

At 24 and pretty close to broke, I didn't feel in a position to get married and support someone else. I had no real experience and didn't know how long it was going to take to get a job. The thought of bringing Mohamed home with me was way too overwhelming to consider and frankly, I didn't want to get married! I also didn't want to stay. As much as I loved that country, I had been gone for two years and was excited to go home, see family and friends and try to make a new life.

So we spent a few last days together in the capital and said our goodbyes. It was possibly the hardest thing I've ever done, but at that time I knew it was the right move. I left.

Back in the states, I did my best to re-adapt. I got a job, found an apartment, dated. For the past two years I've lived a good life, but Mohamed was never far from my thoughts. I never quite new what to say when we'd talk on the phone and he'd say he missed me. I missed him too and I'd tell him that, but we'd just end up in the same spot during the next call.

Then, a few months ago I was at dinner with a friend here in Madison and we started talking about relationships. A comment she made during that dinner got me thinking about what I was doing with my life. Why had I left him? My original reasons no longer held true, so what was keeping me from going back?

The longer I thought about going back and pursuing our relationship, the more my mood lifted and the more it seemed like the right thing to do. So after a few months of pondering and running the potential scenarios through my mind, I called Mohamed and asked if he wanted me to come back. He did!

So, now I go back to see where things lead. I'm happy to report that things are working very much in my favor and as the pieces come together, I can't help but feel more and more strongly that I'm headed in the right direction. I haven't been this confident that i'm making the right move since I left two and half years ago!

As for the logistics, I leave from Detroit on August 20th for Alexandria, Egypt where I'll attend a certification program for Teaching English as a Second Language (TESL). Then, with my certificate in hand, it's off to the capital where I begin working as an English teacher on September 27th. It's a pretty good gig and I look forward to enjoying the country on a bit more than my PC stipend. I'll even have breaks long enough to travel!

My home starting September 25

I hope to keep this blog a bit more active this second time around, so be sure to look for updates. I also really appreciate everyone's comments and encouragement, so be sure to keep them coming!

The Whole Story - Part 2 of 3

The Middle

Soon after the party, Mohamed went back to the capital (a 14 hour bus ride away) and I officially moved into my own apartment. Life on my own was great and having Mohamed made it even better. In an odd way, being long distance was the perfect scenario.

hanging out in the capital

With PC headquarters also in the capital, I had to go there for medical visits, training sessions and other random activities. These events were all opportunities for me to see Mohamed and when I was there he was my tour guide. We spent days walking the city. It was freeing to be in a place where I didn’t know anyone and didn’t have to worry about people seeing us together. We could hold hands and go to cafes. We visited all of the main attractions and explored all of the places tourists would never go. I had an insider view of the city and loved every second of it.

Seeing the sights

When we weren’t out and about in the city, we were at Mohamed’s hanut (general store). When he was 11 years old, his family sent him to the capital in search of better opportunities. His uncles had a few stores and he moved in with them to learn the business. Soon after I met him, he opened a store on his own (he now has two!). His brother worked with him, but hours in the hanut business are long. He generally works from 7 am to 11 pm and is sometimes lucky enough to get a nap in the afternoon. When I was in town, I’d bring a book or my journal and occasionally reorganize snack cakes. The best part of life in the hanut was all of the delicious food that Mohamed would make for me. He’s an outstanding cook- even with just one pan and a tiny gas stove. I was spoiled.

Me in Mohamed's newest hanut

Since his family lived near my town, he also had a perfectly legitimate excuse to visit a few times per year. Being so sporadic, the sneaking around was minimal and we managed to be together without anyone in town finding out. I lived on the opposite side of town from my host family and the friends I hung out with, so there was never a chance of an unexpected visitor. I also lived in a building with three apartments, so as long as we didn’t go in or out of the building together, no one in town suspected a thing. It was almost as though the stars were perfectly aligned in our favor.
Mohamed hanging out with my host family

Hiking near my town

Being linked by my host family, I was even able to visit Mohamed’s village and meet his family on a few occasions. He has a great family. His mom, Khadija manages the household in the village while his dad works for a major tea producer in Casa- he spent most of his time away only returning for visits a few times per year. He also has three sisters- Fatima and Rkia (older) and Naima (younger). When I met them, all three were single living with their mother in the village, but two are now married and have small children. His two brothers are both younger and work with Mohamed in his stores.

Mohamed's youngest sister Naima at her wedding

When we weren’t together, we spent our time texting. Sometimes 30 messages in a day, but they were significantly cheaper than making calls. A text based relationship seems odd, but even so he was able to help me with my language skills and it never seemed like he was very far away. Knowing he was there got me through many difficult times and I’m not sure that I would have survived the full two years without Mohamed.

Thanks for everyone’s patience—Part three will be out soon!

The Whole Story - part 1 of 3

Some of you may be surprised to learn that I've decided to return to Morocco.

When you ask me why and I say "I'm going back for a boy," I'm guessing you'll have some questions. Who is this mysterious man who pulls me back to Africa? Why haven't you heard of him before? You might even go back through my blogs and notice that he is conspicuously absent from the majority of my posts. You may even think that I've gone mad and made him up.

It is for those very reasons and to answer all of your questions that I've decided to go back in time and tell you our story from the beginning. Hopefully when I'm through you'll have a better understanding of why I've decided to go back and what the future may hold.

The Beginning

I met Mohamed in January of 2006. I had been in my Peace Corps site for just over a month and was still living with my host family. We were about to celebrate Eid (the big feast). Eid is the most important Muslim holiday. Each family is required to sacrifice an animal and people come home from all regions of Morocco and the world to be with their families.

A few days before Eid I returned to my host family's house to find a strange man in our kitchen. He was cutting up vegetables and my host sister Khadija was in the back holding a rabbit. The strange man proceeded to go outside and help my host sister slaughter the little grey animal. I'm sure my eyes were fairly wide at this point as I think that was the first time I ever witnessed a slaughter. The guy was amused by my shock and chuckled before preparing the rabbit for his entry into the tajine.

"Mohamed's making us dinner!" my host sister (Khadija) exclaims. They continue to prepare the meal and I can tell that Mohamed and Khadija get along well, they were laughing and talking the whole time. I couldn't understand anything they were saying, but in time I found out that Mohamed is a 2nd cousin of the family who was returning to his village about 40 mins away from my town. Since the bus gets him in late, he generally stays with my host family for a night before getting in a van to his village.

It wasn't until the next morning when we were eating breakfast that I noticed how cute Mohamed was. But before I knew it, he was gone.

He wasn't gone for long. During his month long vacation from the capital he came back to my town and stayed with my host family on and off. I was still adjusting to life in Morocco and with my host family and it was winter, so I spent a lot of time sitting in the sun outside of their house reading, writing or watching people come and go. Mohamed would sit with me and we'd "talk-" well, as much as my language skills would allow after only 4 months in the country. He was really good about asking me questions, speaking slowly and helping me with my Arabic. Much more patient than anyone else in the family and I really appreciated his company.

It wasn't long before I started liking Mohamed and I could tell he liked me too. I was torn though- what to do! I was in this small community where I was to live and work for two years, pursuing a man could be truly scandalous! What would my host family think if they found out?

It was around this time that a few other PC volunteers came into town and one night I very sneakily went with them to the one place we could get alcohol- a big fancy hotel on a hill. I had two beers and they were quite successful at lowering my inhibitions. After enjoying ourselves at the bar, I headed back to my host family's around 10 pm. When I arrived, the house was full of music and people. They were having a party! Well, how convenient that a party was in full swing on the night when I had two beers and therefore joined directly into the fun.

Shots from the party-

After a while, Mohamed and another host sister (also named Khadija) snuck off to the back of the house. When they came back, Mohamed was dressed as a women in one of the traditional black wraps they all wore. The entire room bursts into laughter and Mohamed starts dancing with the girls. This was a rare opportunity. Generally, men and women don't do much dancing together, but in his disguise, he was in the girls club. We formed a circle and lightly joined hands. We danced for a bit and I made my first true move- I flipped my hand around and squeezed.

It was brief, but we both knew what it meant and I would consider that the start of our almost two year relationship while I was in Morocco.

To be continued....

the departure

my last week in taf was insanely busy despite the fact that i stopped working. making the rounds to see all my friends was a bit exhausting and i was constantly on the go with the visits, giving away my stuff, paying bills and more. and of course anytime that i said goodbye to someone, they would say 'but i'll see you again before you go right?' Enchallah [god willing] i would say. but of course it would be impossible to see all of these people again. no one likes goodbyes.

my last 24 hours in town were actually quite boring up until the very end. i thought i would really come full circle by spending the last night at my host family's house. so i said goodbye to my apartment and made my way across town with all of my stuff. the exact opposite of what i did just 22 months prior.

when i arrived, no one was home. awesome. so i went out to the cyber and bought a chicken for the next day's lunch. when i got back the family was there, but there was nothing special about this, my last day. i hung out with khadija and the new baby and everyone else, but i was quite shocked that no one seemed to care or notice that i was leaving!

the following morning was the same, everyone went about their business as usual and i felt a bit lost. i made one more round and said some final goodbyes, and my host sister gave me some very hastily done henna. i played hopscotch with my little host sis and neighbors.

the whole while i was totally uneffected by thoughts of my departure. i thought 'i'm not even going to cry! this is no big deal!' i ate a final snack with some of the family and then it was time for me to make my 6pm bus. i grabbed my stuff with the help of khadija, aicha, tati and neighbor girl noura and we started for the bus.

just about as soon as we left the house i felt a sudden and drastic change within. on the short walk to the bus it was all i could do to hold in my tears. 'i'm leaving....forever' whoa. we were a bit early to the bus, but it was no time at all until i was crying uncontrollably and so were my host sisters. we hugged and kissed and told each other how much we would miss each other. then a bit of calm as we continued to wait. then as it was time to board the flood gates opened again and we repeated the process.

tati [my 9 year old host sis whom i love to death] was having an especially hard time and that of course only made the whole thing more difficult for me. finally i managed to get on the bus and took my seat, still crying as we start to pass through town.

just as we start to leave town, i notice a big black cloud of women on the side of the road. as we pull closer they are all waiving their arms and yelling [of course this is not the usual behavior of a conservative berber woman]. the bus driver thinks maybe someone will be boarding, but i know better as i leap from my seat and sprint to the door.

crying now even more hysterically i jump off the bus and run into the arms of my very best friends. everyone is crying, no one can even speak we just hug and kiss and cry and cry. the bus beeps its horn and i know it's time to go. with a final goodbye i run back to the bus where the other passengers are staring at me as if i'm some sort of alien creature.

it took a good half hour on the bus for me to somewhat recover from this traumatizing departure. and the next 4 hours were spent in reflection of what had just occured.

when i left america in 2005 it was sad. the goodbyes were difficult and i questioned whether i was making the right move. but it was a timed goodbye. a goodbye for two years. a departure that was not permanent, but very short lived in relation to the average life. those goodbyes were a walk in the park.

the goodbyes i said that day were by no means temporary. they were forever goodbyes, and these are significantly more painful. indescribable really, but a bit like a bit of your heart pulled out. this piece will never be replaced. this piece is in morocco.

of course i plan to call and write and visit [and i will], but it will never be the same. i'll never again be living there, just down the road from a cooking lesson or unlimited cups of tea, cookies, and laughter with these incredible people. never again will tati show up unannounced at my door for an afternoon of popcorn and tom and jerry. nope, these are not timed goodbyes.

leaving rabat and my 'boyfriend' mohamed was equally painful, but i dont think i have the energy to go into all that right now.

i spent 27 incredible months in morocco and i'm so greatful for every second.

thank you mohamed, habiba, zaina, fadma, naima, mamass, naima, aicha, hicham, abdelfettah, youness, boubaker, said, dalila, ahmed, hasna, ayoub, nadia, ijou, saida, zahara, all my soccer girls, asma, asma, khadija, khadija, khadija, aicha, mohamed, amina, tati, senna, brahim, noura, houssine, mourad, oumayma, and so many others. you'll always be in my heart.