UltraCrepidate

Part 3 of the Morocco miniseries: Words from the dusty road

“It doesn’t have to be big and flashy”

That was her response to me after I told her that I have decided to make some major changes in my life after this trip as a response to her pointing out the fact that she feels I am at a crossroad in my life. Hadar’s a subtle teacher. In the short time that we got to spend together and actually exchanged ideas, she’s managed to make me see the err of my thinking. Or rather, point out the conditioning of which I was unaware of.

That was when I was first able to put the desires into concrete thought, the desire to become a nomad. I also took a mental note of that moment and burned the image into my mind so I will not forget it later in life. For that moment on the Spanish beach of Tarifa, clear blue sky above, gold sands underneath with the beautiful blue ocean at our feet. I recognized that I was perfectly happy. My mind, devoid of other thoughts, was mesmerized by her blue eyes. I wanted desperately to stay with her.

But that wasn’t the choice I have to make. To become a nomad and wanders the earth. No, it’s not part of my destiny. It will happen one day, but it won’t be the defining road of my life. The choice isn’t a yes or no question either, but rather a “what” question. What will I do next?

We will meet again “En Chellah”

Part 2 of the Morocco miniseries: Words from the dusty road

“Cent Dirham”

Her bony hand clasped my wrist, hands shaking from the effort. Only four years old and already know how to beg in French. No matter how hardened I was by the road, I couldn’t bring myself to pull her hand away and ended up remaining in the awkward connection for the duration of our goodbyes. It is a problem that I’ve always had a tough stance on. I know that if you give, they’d just rely on the source of free food instead of working and gaining the skills needed for food yet this logic does not work when people have to fight for survival at such a tender age.

“You can’t feed the hungry by giving them food”

I remember saying to Joanna as we watched the kids fight for the cookies she handed out. Aggression, frustration and violence ensued soon after, if the police wasn’t there, I wonder if they’d actually swarm us out of desperation. Can I still hold the same belief? Just the fact that you are born into a 1st world country means you’ve won the lottery ticket of birth.

Part 1 of the Morocco miniseries: Words from the dusty road

What is in Canada?”

“Hadar’s simple words echoed in my mind as I stepped through the arrival’s door. The reality of that question made even more apparent by the absence of friends and relatives that rushes to hug me. Perhaps Hadar, currently living the nomadic life, understands that feeling more intensely than anyone else I’ve met in my life. Triple citizenship by the age of 12 with a dozen different addresses in my address book marked “Home”. It really gets to you when you realize that you don’t really need to return “Home”, that there’s nothing really tying you to it” 
Excerpts from the travel journal, Day 20.

I should stop feeling melancholy and call up my friends. After another nap of course.

This is a notice to all my readers.

I am officially in limbo now to prepare for my trip and will be back from my travels to Africa by June 1st. See ya then.

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Update May 2nd

For those of you concerned about whether or not I am still alive at any moment in time, I will update my progress through twitter whenever I find some Internet. Here’s the link to my twitter account.

Here’s the google map of the planned route we will take. Map will be tagged with our progress/whereabout if I get Internet access.

I will also try to upload pictures if possible (If the city has broadband). They can be found in my flickr page.