Musings of my Mind on a Morocco Bus Ride
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I’m feeling a bit reflective. I haven’t felt that way for a while…or maybe it’s just been in my head, and I haven’t let it out lately. I’m on a bus in Morocco traveling between Chefchaouen and Tangier…a 4-hour bus ride from hell. It’s hot, extremely hot; the air conditioning isn’t working, we are on winding mountain passes, the bus is making odd noises, and the sun is shining brightly through the windows as if it were Superman with x-ray vision burning a hole in the flimsy curtain fabric.
I’ve been in a constant state of sweat all day; I smell bad. I’m wearing pants that I haven’t washed for 2 weeks, wore on a camel ride, and with a broken zipper held together by a safety pin for the past week. There are people puking around me. Amidst all of this travel turmoil, I feel reflective.
How the hell did I go from a high-end posh apartment lifestyle in Manhattan to this? Actually, tons of thoughts are floating through my head as I listen to my “mellow” playlist on my iPod, trying to tell my stomach just to hang in there. I’ve already taken Dramamine, but it hasn’t decided if it wants to work yet inside my tummy. I’m not really sure if this typing is helping or hurting the motion sickness.
Morocco Bus Ride from Chefchaouen to Tangier
I think about my family; I wonder if they miss me at all. At times I do feel rather lonely out here, wondering what people are doing, if they think about me or even know where I’m at. I think about my mom and dad; I wonder if they will ever decide to visit me on this adventure. I think about the fact that they have supported my crazy ideas and am grateful for that. I think about going home and what that will be like again – taking that ride from the airport back into Manhattan.
I think about sleeping in my own bed and seeing my apartment for the first time. I think about the Arabic family next to me, knowing that this is just a few weeks of my life, but this is their life…this is normal to them. I wonder how much this bus trip cost them, I wonder if they are in as much pain as I am – and then realize they must be since they are vomiting from motion sickness.
I think about my future. I wonder if I will try to really follow some of my ideas or if I will give up and end up in the same rat race. I wonder if I did the right thing….but that’s a fleeting thought as I KNOW I did the right thing. I think about what it’s like to follow your gut. I wonder if I will have enough money to do what I want. I wonder if I will have enough perseverance, enough patience, enough knowledge – or will I be lazy? Will I be able to self-start? What does life hold? Will I be able to embrace the ride? I think about how scary it is to think about working again – and not knowing what that will look like. I think about breathing through my mouth and not my nose.
Discover the ins and outs of European train travel
Friends and lovers
I think about past loves, the ones that broke my heart. I wonder what they are doing. I wonder if I will ever meet anyone that I can feel comfortable with, who will ever understand me – or is that just a silly dream? I mean, really, who could understand why I’m riding a hot, vomit–filled bus and living out of a backpack for 10 months now? I wonder what my life would have been like if I had stayed with some of them, or if I had tried harder to make it work, or I had simply said “please, don’t go”. I wonder if I will really be able to love and trust again – if I ever really did love or trust? I think about the last time I saw him.
I think about friends. I wonder how they have changed. I wonder if they think of me. I wonder if our friendships will be the same when I get back. I wonder how I will ever, EVER be able to repay some of them for the kindness and assistance they have provided me while traveling. I wonder about the friends that I rarely hear from but used to be some of my closest friends I had. I wonder why that is and why we have drifted so. I think about some of them who have moved on and started families – who have moved into a traditional life. I wonder if they ever go out anymore, get silly drunk, and go dancing until 6 AM. I wonder what they will tell their kids about their past single life.
I think about my cat. I wonder if she will still remember my voice…find something familiar in it when I walk in Linda’s door and say, ”Hi Kit Kat!” – or will she run and hide…or more likely…will she bite me and hiss? I remember the last time I held her in my lap, petting her, my tears dripping down on her fur, and telling her that I would always remember her and that I wasn’t leaving her forever. I think of her as the only real piece of responsibility in my life, the only thing that (used to) love me unconditionally. Yet, I wonder if I will take her back or leave her with Linda. I wonder if I can really let her go.
I think about my belongings…my clothes, my shoes, my jackets, my jewelry…my stuff. I think about my ratty, smelly suitcase, and I envision burning it when I get home. I wonder how elated I will feel when I get through the boxes that have been in storage. Or will I realize that I can live without that stuff? I think about the fact that this bus is constantly jerking around corners and wonder when it will ever stop. I wonder why we didn’t pay the extra money and just have a private driver.
I think about my adventures to come. I worry about the challenges ahead – especially in India. I wonder if I will be tough enough to survive volunteering in India. I wonder if I will feel like I made a difference in this world. I wonder what I will look like in a sari. I wonder how it will feel to give back. I wonder if I will love it or hate it. I wonder why in the hell this air conditioning doesn’t work!
I think about how much I’ve aged these last 10 months. I think about how bad I look, but then every time I see myself in a picture, I realize that I don’t look as bad as my mind has me believe. I think about how your mind is such a powerful thing…and how it can play dirty tricks on you. I think about the last time I had a real shower, which made me feel really, really clean. I think about the thrill of a fluffy towel. I wonder why I haven’t met any love interests on this grand adventure. I wonder if I’m just not open to it. I think about the last time I felt sexy…I can’t even remember when that was…which is about as disturbing as the sound of the person vomiting in the seats behind me.
I think about the real travelers…the people I have met who are 10 times tougher than me. The woman I met in Morocco who is working with the Peace Corps for 2 years on her own in a remote village – and she’s 22 years old. She’s tough…I’m a wimp. I think about Karina, my Intrepid tour leader, who is about ten years younger than me but who I look up to. I think about her apparent ease in dealing with difficult situations, her ease in different cultures, her patience…it is commendable. I wish I could have a bit of what she has. Plus, she doesn’t seem to get car sick at all….another reason to be envious. I think about how this bus is just an oven of puke.
Thinking about family
I think about my brother, who I’ve only heard from twice on this adventure. I wonder why we have grown apart so much. I wonder if I should have contacted him more. I wonder if his kids will remember me, if they even know what I’m doing out here – or even care. I wonder about all of my nieces, what their lives will be like as adult women, and what choices they will make. I wonder if I will have had any influence on them. I wonder if any of them will take care of me in my old, senile age! I wonder what challenges they will face in the world as smart, independent women. I wonder if I should have taken another Dramamine.
I think about being tough…I think about how it doesn’t matter if anyone thinks about me, misses me, remembers me…I just have to be tough…because, in the end, it all comes down to me…and no one else. I think about the fact that Karina just asked me for a barf bag (I seem to be the holder of the barf bags on this trip) – not for her – but for the little girl sitting next to Kate on the bus.
I think about the road trips that I used to take with my family when I was a kid. I think about how my family used to make fun of me when I would get carsick…they always thought I was weak…and I was; I was a mamma’s girl, afraid to leave her, afraid to go downstairs alone, afraid to stay overnight at a friends house all night, afraid to eat asparagus, afraid of bugs, afraid of snakes, afraid of leaving for college, afraid of being alone.
I think about the fact that this writing is helping my motion sickness…at least it’s taking my mind off the jerking bus until I just wrote this sentence and became aware of it again.
I wonder if my friends are just being kind about my writing and photography. Are they doing what friends are supposed to be doing…being kind? I wonder how many other millions of people out there are doing what I’m doing. I wonder if I have talent. I wonder why we, as human beings, doubt ourselves so much. I wonder if any of those people that I have photographed understand how very beautiful they are. I wonder what they think of Americans. I wonder if they know how they have changed my life.
I wonder if I have made a difference in anyone’s life. I wonder if I have made a mark on this world. I wonder why Tangier seems to be so f’ing far from Chefchaouen.
I think about all of my friends who have recently had life changes – got married or had/having kids. I think about social norms. I wonder how all of those things have seemed to escape me. I wonder if they really escaped me or did I push them away. I think about people who have children…and wonder what that would be like. I wonder why the hell the brakes on this bus are so goddamn bad!!!!!
Most of all, I wonder what people will think when they read this. This glimpse into my motion sick, sweaty, smelly, tired mind…but at least I didn’t lose my lunch.
Great post, thanks for sharing. If its any consolation, what is banging around in your head is very much the same as banging around in mine, with slight variations of course. I’m not sure if that’s a consolation or not, just know there are a lot of us out there going through the same thing.
great post – and yes, I think about those same things as well. Travel makes us reflective – if you’re doing it right!
Thanks for sharing! I believe you are right were you are supposed to be! I have really enjoyed your blog! Thinking of leaving my corporate gig and making the journey as well……we shall see!
Keep sharing!
i think you’re tough. everything’s comparison. if you compare to some tough peope, they are always tougher than you. if you compare yourself before, during or after the trip, you’ll discover you’re getter tougher.
i, as a guy, have no courage to go to Morocco. one reason is interest and another one seems not too safe to me.
travelling is a “relaxation” (depends on the type of your travels), adventure and expereince. the more you go, the more you discover. at the same time, i find myself so little in the world – lack of common knowledge and historical background.
some of your questions appear in my minds during or after the trip. perhaps, this’s a common question we all expereince when we have nothing else to think.
hope, you can go through all those things.
I’ve been reading your blog for some weeks now, and your honesty in this post is very inspiring. You’re definitely not alone in your thoughts about life – past, present, future. Who knows where the road will lead, but so many people don’t take the time (or have the time) anymore to think about where they really ‘are’ in their life, in this world. Brava to you for following that little voice inside you, taking a leap of faith, and taking the time to discover the person you are! You’ll know what to do with this experience when it’s time to know.. just keep on keepin’ on!
Thanks for sharing your adventures!
Sherry, for what’s it worth, I miss you a lot and think of you often. I can’t wait until we can sit face-to-face and really talk again.
Out dancing until 6AM? What’s that??? I was out for dinner until 8:30 the other night – just late enough to miss putting my kids to bed.
Life is what you make it. It’s about making choices every day. I don’t think any are right or wrong. Just personal.
Love you!
Connie
P.S. Reading this post first thing in the morning wasn’t the best way to start my day (it made me a little sad), but I’m glad I did. This was the most honest, heartfelt piece I have read anywhere.
Well, well, well…
Did she crack? Me says no…. but perhaps the dramamine was substituted for that missing X…
All kidding aside – that may be one of the best posts I’ve read on this blog (does it matter that I’ve only read 2 others? jk) I know that you know your strength far surpasses the strength of most around u. Impact? well – 10,000 plus unique visitors who are living through your strength and vision – i would say that’s impact.
If nothing else – u have had an impact on me in countless ways. I had to take a dramamine just reading your story.. oh sh*t – or was it an X.
and btw – i think you’ll look like the rest of the women in a burka – isn’t that the idea.. 🙂
Thanks for all of the kind replies to this crazy post. It was truly typed real time while on the bus…no editing except for spellcheck. It actually surprises me when I go back and read it! I swear it wasn’t a ploy to hear from people…but it sure it a great after-effect! I am stunned at how many people actually read my little blog – it gives me purpose every day to know that you are all out there paying attention! On a sad note…I’m about out of Dramaine…shit.
Sherry
I know you have made a difference in my life! That conversation walking up the mountain in Imlil was a critical catalyst, and now as I check my email (during my last day here in Morocco) I laugh at the emails from work about silly, ridiculous things like computers not arriving on time. Things that would have ruined my summer, set me worrying about how I was going to teach these kids without computers and no books! Now those emails mean nothing. I am content. And for that, you are someone I want to thank. I will be eternally grateful for you.
Hi Sherry,
Iam begining to wonder how your mom and I influenced all of your wonderings? That is “wo(a)nderings”, like moving around the world kind of like Moses did in the desert and “wonderings”, like what the heck am I doing here and how did I get into this situation? What part of this am I responsible for and what is Mom’s part? You would expect me to say the good is mine and the rest is Mom. Ha. Suppose we are both responsible for some of each. Don’t feel that you can influence that as you can not choose your parents. They are just there and you have to work with or around them. When I was in the military service a few days after I turned 19 and was out of the USA before I was 19 and a half, and could not come home even if I wanted to etc. etc. I had some of those same thoughts as you have had. I wondered about Mom and Dad, family, my dog, my room back on the farm, the animals on the farm, my old beat up car at home, what was I going to do when I got out of this damn Army!, would I be able to make a living like I wanted, and OH yes girls as we use to say, not love but girls, etc. So you see people are a lot alike, and not only now in your times but even 50 years ago. Those grils turned to love somehow to new families and yes to kids like you. It was a good ride those years. So, patience, Damn it, patience!!!!
Surprise Dad
Hey Sherry
Fantastic post! Made me cry…. why do they do that to me?
Remember, reflection is good and you are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing! There is no right or wrong answer it just is.
I know I have only known you a short time, but I miss you and think of you a lot, particularly as I prepare to go back home.
India will be good, and you will make a difference, you just may not see it!
Big hugs
Golly Sherri…! The responses to this blog entry are almost as good as the entry itself! You really connected with something all of us have felt at one time or another in our lives. The post from your dad was especially touching…and what is he doing in Hong Kong?
I was filled with motherly advice while reading this entry. Nobody needs my advice, especially you, but sometimes I’m compelled ;)….
Self-doubt is normal, but rest assured, you can WRITE, and you also take great photographs. I don’t just read your blog because I enjoyed the time we spent together and think of you now as a friend. I also read it because it is entertaining and the pictures are beautiful. I wish I could take pictures like that. I think you might be able to do something with your writing, so don’t stop!
Traveling changes you. Living overseas changes you. You are a different person now in some ways than the person you were before you left. You will never see the US in quite the same way; you will never see the world in the same way either. This will mean that some old friends will drift away; they just won’t get it. It will also mean that you will make new friends with people that YOU might not have “gotten” before this trip. But going back will be scary. It’s funny, when you go overseas 3M is very good about giving you “cultural training” and they tell you that the adjustment to living in the US after living overseas is harder than the adjustment when you leave. I think that will definitely be true for me. I notice it when I’m talking to people in the US. I hear myself saying “in Hong Kong, blah blah blah” and I think “shutup! nobody cares!” They do, but in some ways they really don’t. That’s why its important to find other people that have lived or traveled extensively overseas, because they WILL get it…
Every time I’ve seen our old nasty cat in the US he acts like we just returned from the grocery store and its only be an hour since he last saw us, instead of 3 months! We fall right back into our regular routines. Maybe your cat will be the same!
I think you’re beautiful.
As other posters have said, there is always someone more committed, more adventurous, more something. Comparing ourselves to others is a good way to make ourselves unhappy. Compare yourself to yourself and see what you think…I mean think about who you were at 20, at 25….see?? 🙂
Friends ARE kind….that’s why they are your friends…they are also honist if they think you can take it, and I would guess your friends think that you can! There is no “just kind” about it. Kindness is a gift. Sometimes gifts are difficult to accept, but just say “thank you”. Its good practice…
My children have been the greatest thing in my life. They have transformed it, and I can’t imagine my life without them. BUT, that being said, that’s me. Once again, comparing yourself to others gets you nowhere. If you decide you want kids at some point you’ll do it!
One last thing, you have made a difference in MY life! I’m very glad I met you and I enjoy reading your blog. When you come back to Hong Kong we’ll have a lot to talk about!
great post!
you tapped into something big here… thoughts, fears, emotions of not just travel but life and ‘being’ and so much more.
keep writing, its inspiring!
i also wanted to reccommend the book “eat love pray” by elizabeth gilbert. you might love it as much as i!
ps im travelling at the moment but also from ny!
my favorite so far. =0) It reminds me of something I read called “LEAVE YOUR HOUSE” about both the perils and beauty of travelling solo – – the beauty i expected already, and the warning of perils only made me dig my heels in deeper, determined to SEE FOR MYSELF. I’m glad you’re you!