In the months preceding this moment, Morocco was just a word. It was paperwork. It was forms. It was emails. It was an awkward Facebook group. It was a new backpack, contact solution, and passport copies.
But then, it was under my feet. The streets below my hotel room window were populated and electric. The mid-afternoon sun glared in my eyes. I took a deep breath of humid air, and exhaled Delta Airlines. In this moment, Morocco was my reality.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t have a moment of fear and self-doubt. I wondered why I didn’t just go to Paris and study French like I always thought I would. Since when did I want to go to Africa? Why had I put so much effort into coming to a country I didn’t even know much about?
But then, right there in that hotel room, I stopped. Just as I had done with my luggage, I took the fear and doubt off of my back, and I felt weightless.
Three and a half months later, I found myself in the same hotel room where I had left all of that fear and doubt, laughing at myself for ever packing it in the first place.
And now, I sit in the airport. I’m heading home, and the contents of my luggage are different now.
I leave with a new understanding of where I’m from and where I’m going. I leave with new friends and a better understanding of myself. I leave with more self-confidence and less fear.
Shukran to the entire J-Squad. You were all by my side during the good and bad times, and I will never forget you. Shukran to Badrdine and the entire staff of the CCCL. I don’t think any of us can fully express our gratitude for what you’ve done for us. Shukran to my family for sending me on this journey with all your love and support. I will see you very soon.
And most importantly… Shukran, Morocco. I can only hope we have given you some small fraction of what you’ve given us.
Signing off one last time from Rabat…
Tabor Smith. Ad Explorata.
