Thanks for the reality check, M!

In no way did my time between July 23rd and Sept 25 feel like reality. I was truly living it up. Drinking, eating, sleeping in, living in Egypt without an ounce of stress. It was as though I was floating through some perfect universe where my only reminder of reality was the fact that my intestines did not love Egyptian food.

Then I arrived in M and BAM! Like a smack on the rear, life begins once again. After a delightful 6 hour flight, I arrived in Casablanca around 11 pm with my 60 kilos of luggage (I know it was 60 kilos because the lovely EgyptAir man made me put all of my checked and carryon baggage onto the scale at one time- thanks to him for letting me keep it all despite being way over the luggage allowance!). Mohamed was waiting for me at the airport (Yay!) and we were able to take the last train into Casa and hop in a taxi to stay with a friend for the night.

I was exhausted and landed to receive the great news of- I have no apartment and no place to go on Sunday. Super! Sunday we took the train up to the capital and sensing my irritation with the situation, Mohamed scrambled to find accommodations. For four days I stayed in a studio apartment where I killed at least three cockroaches on a daily basis. Now, I wouldn't call myself a girlie girl, but I do not do cockroaches and I could not wait to get out of there.

Back in Agdal

On a walk into the city

First time back in the Medina

I spent the four days searching for an apartment, meeting bosses and fellow teachers from school and trying to prepare for my first real teaching job while living out of a suitcase. Many of you know how well I do when not completely unpacked and living in a fully decorated place- it is not pretty! Needless to say I was feeling the stress and when my now roommate Michaela found a beautiful two bedroom, two bathroom place a minute's walk from work. We jumped all over it and moved in three days before the start of classes.

Shots of the new apartment- sparsely furnished

The day before I started teaching I met with my director and got my class schedule. We are guaranteed a minimum of 21 hours per week in our contract. When I was hired, I was told 22-23 hours was pretty typical. Apparently people are super excited about learning english this semester because I have a whopping 25 hours of teaching time. Now, those of you full timers are probably thinking that sounds pretty cushy and believe me, at first I thought the same thing. However, as a new teacher, I don't know what the heck I'm doing and I therefore have to spend loads of time preparing. For example, I spent 7 hours this past Monday (one of my days off) preparing for my 6 hours of classes on Tuesday. Ugh.

The good news is we're now into week two and it's already feeling easier. As with most things, I think the learning curve is just quite steep and you just have to work your rear end off to keep yourself from drowning the first week. And thankfully, I like it! I have a fairly varied class/age load which is nice.

I teach university students in Sale business English on Tuesday afternoons, then head back to AMIDEAST to teach adult beginners and then a TOEFL test preparation course. On Wednesdays I have two (two hour) sessions of 7-10 year olds and I get to do lots of games and coloring with them. Thursdays bring my beginner adults and TOEFL class again, then I have Friday off. Saturday is another long day with with another 2 classes of 7-10 year olds followed by a 3 hour TOEFL test prep session. Sundays are a bit like PC in that I teach teenagers on scholarship who couldn't normally afford classes. While this is a population I prefer to be with, having them for 4 hours is a bit much. Mondays are off.

So for right now, my life generally involves hanging out in my minimally furnished apartment (usually in bed) then heading off to work for preparation or classes. I haven't had much time for anything else and it's been raining cats and dogs for the last 4 days. On days off, I usually go spend some time with Mohamed in his store; otherwise, I don't see him until he closes up and we make a late dinner. For now, there's no other big news there. Just spending time and taking it easy.

Mohamed with his niece Oumayma on a visit to his sister's house in Sale.

Life here has certainly begun.

Limbo

My life since leaving PC has, to say the least, lacked excitement.

When I got back from Turkey I was exhausted and travel worn. In less than a week i suffered four flights (two of them international), a night in the Philadelphia International airport, and precious little sleep. I had nothing but dirty clothes and am proud to say that I actually threw away a pair of jeans in the bathroom of a thai restaurant in NYC. I had 11 pairs of underwear for 20 days of travel.

It was awful and thrilling. I couldn't wait for it to be over, but I thrived on the excitement and secretly didn't want it to end. I was tough. I was cool. life was exciting.

Then I went to Texas. Many people wondered why and to answer this question once and for all, I went to visit my mom, stepdad and brother who moved there a year into my Peace Corps service. My sister and her boyfriend went as well, and we spent a glorious week baking, sleeping and gorging ourselves on delicious foods. I felt more gluttonous than i had in years, literally.

Once my sister left, life slowed down to a snail's pace. I slept late and went to bed early. I watched the entire 2nd and 3rd seasons of lost, as well as hours and hours of Project Runway. I left the house only when I had to. Eventually i started jogging everday and was happy to be doing at least one thing each day.

oh, and the job search began. Once I finally forced myself to start this miserable process, i went at it like a feind. Within a week and a half I submitted 30+ resumes and thought I was on a roll. But the calls didn't come. In fact, I was quite shocked at the lack of response. Come on, aren't I a great candidate for a good job? Don't I have skills? and ambition?

Apparently not.

During this period of laziness, I did manage to spend a great New Years in San Antonio, as well as a fabulous night out in Austin. This was good for me because for a while I was actually scared that I would never be interested in things like 'going out' and 'leaving the house.' I was afraid that the person I was during that period was the new me.

Then I hopped back on the airplane and returned to Michigan. As frigid as it is here, i'm happy to report that I am greatly enjoying the snow. I've missed it. I also returned feeling much more like my old self.

I have energy, I desire to leave the house and hang out with real people, I crave for life to start again.

But I have nothing to do! no where to go! No place to unload this new found joie de vivre!

I've been back for three weeks, and the boredom has set in. I've gotten four calls and three interviews out of all the time I spent applying for jobs in Texas. I have no money, no job, and no friends left in the Mason area. I have no car.

For 10 weeks i've been unemployed, sleeping in, and wasting away the hours. 10 weeks is too long. I feel as though i've finally come to the breaking point, and that if i don't get some kind of direction soon, i may just snap. Or move back to Morocco.

Last week I was flown to Madison for an interview. This week I will find out the result of that voyage, and i'm hoping with every ounce of my being that I receive some good news. If I don't, well.....it's back to square one.

And I hate square one.

I miss my my moroccan life. While in my own eyes it was boring at times, in the eyes of the world I was living an exotic life. I spoke in a second language, ate incredible foods and was a world traveler. I made my own wine and had a hidden, exciting relationship. There was always somewhere to go, someone to see. I had little money, yet it was plenty and finances were nothing to stress over.

Now i'm a bum. a freeloader. In a country where i can do anything and be anyone, I can afford to do nothing, and to go nowhere.

My life contains absolutely no excitment.