If you've ever seen 'Withnail and I' you'll understand this reference, if not, go watch it. Classic Film.
I'm sure you're wondering...what is this blog about?
Read on and you'll find out...
...but also by beautiful luck.
Basically, what I am writing about is how I ended up here in Morocco, in a way by mistake but also by beautiful luck. You see, previously I hated the sun. I could not bear the sticky greasy feel of sun-cream, or the scratchy irritable texture of the sand. I also had a huge fear of water to the point where I once had to be rescued on a lake due to a panic attack.
As a result of this I was always drawn to the snowy mountains. I lived in Whistler, Canada, Wanaka, New Zealand and Niseko, Japan, all well known popular ski towns. I thrived in the snow and the cold, my time off was spent wrapped up in a trillion layers (no exaggeration, honest!) hiking up the tallest mountains and skiing down the most beautiful slopes. My end dream, to live in a little red house in the middle of nowhere in Sweden.
But as 2020 has taught us, never plan anything.
...wave of heat smacked me in the face...
I knew absolutely nothing about Morocco but needed to fill in a gap for work. I came across a yoga teaching job on the internet, the first one I saw and applied for, I got. My friends laughed at me, warning me that I would end up with heat rash and sun burn and be miserable. But I'm always up for a challenge so I thought I would give it a go.
I packed up my bags and off I went. The moment I got off the plane a wave of heat smacked me in the face, but instead of hating it, I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. I remember my journey from the airport to my new home, watching the motorbikes weave in and out of the traffic, donkeys carrying home their loads, and that big African sun melting into the horizon. I had a lot of personal stuff going on when I arrived, but there was something settling about arriving in Morocco.
After just a short time being here I felt oddly at home. I couldn't quite put my finger on exactly what, but I felt so peaceful here. I had somehow overcome my fear of water, and even jumped off a cliff into a natural pool. I went surfing and loved it. I spent days wriggling my toes into the sand and I even embraced the sweat trickling down my body daily.
I never thought that waiting on the side of a hot dusty road for sometimes up to 2 hours, would be my new form of transport, standing at a bus stop in the glaring sun, moving from feeling completely irritated and annoyed to just sitting back and accepting my situation. Taking this time to watch my new unusual world pass by. Having strangers share their bread with me, or offer me a piece of cardboard to sit on, reminding me that kindness is everywhere.
The smells and atmosphere in summer, when there's barely any space on the beach as families set up home, making fires to cook tea and tajine, make shift tents to protect them from the blazing heat and holes dug for private kiddie pools. Making friend with a Moroccan family, who will not take no for an answer to come and join them for tajine, big huge smiles spread across their faces, and their laughs when I'm not quite sure how to eat it.
...they may not have mountains of money, but they sure do have oceans of love.
The Moroccans know how to share, they may not have mountains of money but they sure do have oceans of love. My first experience of being invited into a Moroccan home I ate so much food I thought I would explode, all eyes were on me to keep on eating. They spoke Berber (the local language) Arabic and a little French, I spoke English a little Spanish and Japanese. We chatted and laughed all night long, my stomach muscles and jaw actually hurt. The mother held my hand and stroked my hair, I had so many kisses and cuddles and had to fight to leave with the promise I would be back soon. All this without actually exchanging an understood verbal word!
Sometimes it is difficult living here. There are times when people try and trick you or are cheeky with you. There are many times when the men hassle you. Nowhere is perfect. Nothing is ever on time and many things don't quite make sense to my over organised brain. But Morocco has taught to be patient, to slow down and to not take things so seriously. You'll often hear 'Insha'Allah' when trying to organise something, which translates to 'God Willing', basically if it's meant to happen it will happen. If it doesn't then just accept it.
I was supposed to be here for 6 months, nearly 3 years later I'm still here. I now have beautiful Moroccan families. I have a wonderful yoga community who have all grown closer thanks to this year of lockdown. I'm learning how to read and write Arabic (with my best attempts at learning Berber). I still have to wear a hat and cover up my body, this skin will never adapt to the African heat.
This beautiful village has given me soo much, and it is my intention to do my best to give back. I recently hosted an online day retreat, for each that joined I donated a little to a family in the mountains who are struggling financially. The money was gratefully received and has made a big difference.
As a result I have set up a JustGiving Page, if you ever feeling the calling to donate. Even just a little can go a long way.
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