What can I even begin to tell you about this country? A picture is worth a thousand words, but none of them are the right ones to explain this beautiful country. It’s overwhelming at first. Everyone is shouting at you “you’re welcome in Morocco” and ushering you to their shop to drink their tea and…
Now, when people ask where I am from (yup, England and Ireland are still the top guesses) and find that I am from USA, they say “OBAMA!” and usually high five me or play “Barack Obama” songs from their phones for me to listen to. I am continually surprised at how many versions of songs about Barack there are in the world
Polite Drivers. Holy crap. I step out onto the street and the cars actually stop, some people wave and say “Bon Dia”… I’m used to dodging cars and running for my life, even if the light is in my favor. This is a refreshing change.
Use smiles with caution. “you’re never fully dressed without a smile!” Ugh. just hearing that phrase makes me ill. Luckily, I’m not alone. I mean, for one, smiling at a dog is baring your teeth and that’s a sign of aggression… but more importantly in many cultures a smile is an invitation, usually to a pants party.
2006. I’ve been quiet lately- I apologize, but my brain has been a whirlwind. I am alive, well, and working in Lisbon, Portugal. As I have not been tethered to a computer for the last few weeks, I have had time to think, to write, and to pay attention to what I have learned thus…
So, in your four months did you happen to learn any Portuguese? Research the cuisine? Look in the back of your guidebook at the “simple Portuguese phrases”? …did you happen to put any effort at all into this vacation or were you simply planning to arrive in the country and treat it as if you were still at home?
I scoffed at the 1euro40cent tram ticket (yeah, I’m getting THAT kinda cheap), and decided to go by foot. I was enjoying a perfectly peaceful walk along the river towards a large plaza when I noticed a guy following me and shouting “I’m not drinking- I’m so f*cked!!!”
Last night I walked around the old quarter by the light of the full May moon, and followed the sounds of a guitar to the top of the hill. Sitting alone on his balcony was a young man picking the guitar with the entire landscape of the Alhambra as his backdrop.
I asked myself where I wanted to go, and the truth is it doesn’t matter to me. I will make it around to every place I dream of eventually- the order is not what’s important, it’s the experience. Right now, a place that will allow me to see the world on a fringe of a shoestring budget (yeah, what now Lonely Planet?) is exactly what I need.
I rested my head on the cold marble pillar of the club for a few seconds, gaining strength to open my eyes and face my new world. When I opened my eyes I realized exactly what this meant. I have no cash, I have no passport, I have no identification or means of getting money- in a word, I am screwed.