I flew from Marrakech to London Gatwick, watching the beige shades of Morocco pass beneath, followed by the Strait of Gibraltar, the snowy mountains of Madrid, France, and finally descending over the verdant fields of England. Upon landing I quickly boarded the wrong train at the airport and shot off in the wrong direction, a discovery I made almost an hour into the journey. Never having been to London before and without use of a cellphone, this was a tad distressing, but I was able to make my way toward my correct destination, the neighborhood of S's friends with whom I was staying for the night, via the Tube with little difficulty. After realizing my mistake and getting off the train I found myself in central London, and was able to see some of it on my way to the next station.
Not much sightseeing in London, really, as I was just staying for one evening. Wonderful hospitality from some new friends, however. In the morning I headed to Heathrow (I saw much more of the underground than anything else in London) and was off across the Atlantic, luckily spending most of the trip asleep with the exception of a few Office episodes and games of Tetris on the seatback screen.
At Chicago O'Hare I found my brother and stepdad waiting; we were able to have lunch and a walk around the grounds before my next flight. Great to see them, of course-- like I had just left them the day before. At this point I was fairly giddy and eager to conquer the last leg of my travels to San Francisco...
I touched down at SFO at dusk, walking right past S on my way to the baggage claim.
Hey! she said, and I looked up. Ah, right! Didn't expect her to be waiting there. The rest is where it all blurs together. It's so strange to be sitting here, back at my table in Morocco, to think that I've already been and returned, the memories of my visit floating around in disorder, like scenes from some epic dream. We did a lot, as we had a pretty full schedule of places to go, things to do, and people to see. In lieu of writing everything out in detail, I'll list it here:
- Bay to Breakers Race-- 12k across the city, from the bay to the ocean. Naked people, crazy costumes, clouds of pot smoke, nice cool running weather, freezing near the ocean in sweat-soaked clothes
- rainy days at the apartment, S working from home, lots of reading
- Gustav and Lucca, the cats
- running
- trains, buses, and the BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) to the East Bay and back
- S's office in Berkeley, meeting coworkers
- purchasing of post-Peace Corps plane tickets to Paris and Copenhagen
- Academy of Sciences/Golden Gate Park
- the spending of much money and purchasing of new threads/shoes/tight running pants
- met with friends from high school, dinner at Thai place
- movie night in Dolores Park (the last minute switch from The Royal Tenenbaums to Starsky & Hutch was not appreciated; we left early)
- delicious beers in the late afternoon
- Alcatraz
- meeting with director of sustainable design program at the Berkeley extension school downtown
- neighborhood walks
- food!: sushi, outdoor mud and stone oven-baked pizza, Korean tacos, "Moroccan" restaurant Aziza, mexican, Noodle Theory, homemade bread, wontons & dumplings, salads, stir-fried veggies from the weekly veggie boxes, tajines, walnut & cranberry oatmeal, mushroom waffle, breakfasts at diners, homemade Indian/naan, farmers market...
- Moroccan shop in S's neighborhood... speaking Darija with the owners!
- Tallest Man on Earth concert
- delicious dinner with (former sitemate) Ami's parents
- gallery walk, throngs of hipsters
- time spent with S's friends (A, A, C, E, A & M, Y)
- walk up to Twin Peaks, amazing view of the city
I found San Francisco/Oakland/Berkeley comfortable places to be, with a very progressive feel to them. The people-- at least the ones I met-- were exceedingly polite. I think the best adjective for S's neighborhood in Oakland is "cute"-- a quaint main street lined with coffee shops, bakeries, and little stores of all types. The residential streets are quiet, with each yard overflowing with flowers, long grasses and succulents. Her apartment, tucked away cozily down a driveway behind a bigger house, was my favorite place.
It was easy to be there-- too short of a visit for culture shock to set in, perhaps, and, being in vacation mode, free of any real-life pressures or obligations. A lot of people asked me what I liked most about the visit (aside from seeing S, of course), and I'd have to say it was the anonymity-- being able to walk down the street without the usual gawking and attention. To not carry that bit of tension that, despite having lived here for almost two years now, naturally still creeps in. Very refreshing.
It wasn't easy to come back to the land of dust and donkeys. I was able to see a little more of London on the return trip, the lights and buildings of downtown glowing on an evening walk along the Thames and a peek inside the Tate Modern, though admittedly I didn't have much enthusiasm for it and the jet lag was wearing on me. Upon returning to Marrakech I found that summer had arrived in Morocco, and what an appropriate way to reunite with the country by immediately arguing with a taxi driver over the fare followed by mosh-pitting my way onto a sweltering, thief-ridden bus with luggage in tow.
But, just five and a half months left, and of course the days just fly by, like always. I'm anticipating a bit of a drag when summer is at its peak, with the bugs and the nights too short to cool the air, but this year I know what to expect and will hopefully cope more aptly than last summer's misery-fest. The kids are finishing up school and spending days at the river. I can feel the pace of life slowing and the streets emptying. The fields have all been reaped, and bushels of wheat lie under heavy stones to dry in the sun. The heat is working its way into everything.
What else, what else? People are finding the Explore Amizmiz site and contacting my counterpart to book visits, which is exciting. My counterpart, Latifa, is really growing to be independent in her work, coming out from under the wings of her mentors and employers to do business on her own terms. It's great to see, and she's quite exhilarated with new confidence. Also, I'm trying to strengthen my relationship with the local potters, increase their awareness of their involvement in the project and how it can benefit them, and hopefully reassessing and addressing their needs.
It's nice to be moving through these days, spending time with friends here, working, doing my thing and trying to be present for it-- but tough when I know of my new home and another life, waiting out on the west coast.
