I am looking at an empty suitcase and backpack on my floor, begging to be filled with clothes and junk and other random oddities that I for some odd reason have decided I can’t live without. I seem to always leave packing to the last minute (just like my papers). Perhaps I am waiting for the building tension and excitement of 3:00 am insomnia. But in all honesty, I am simply struggling with the true realization that I am going to Morocco! For a whole semester! It still feels all too surreal. The impending two and half day train ride across the continent seems to be so much more real to me. Or the day-long drive I face early tomorrow morning with my father. Six hours from Missoula to Browning Montana, where we will spend the evening visiting friends and staying the night in a hotel. Then another early morning as I catch the train to Chicago, and eventually, Philadelphia. From there I catch a flight to Paris, a transfer, and then I arrive in Rabat, Morocco. I just can’t wrap my head around it. Excited? certainly. But in the sort of excited way you read a fiction novel. You know that it isn’t exactly real, but you still engage with the story, empathize and struggle with the main protagonist. Only, in this story, I am the protagonist. Right now, however, looking at my checklist of packing items, I still feel like I am watching some character ready themselves for the adventure ahead. Ha ha. Reality will hit me square in the face sometime two week from now, I am sure. But until then, don’t be surprised if I sound like someone reporting a living dream!
Fill Us Soon! My empty bags...