elsewhere

i went to morocco alone. it was the coolest thing i could ever have done. and it changed my outlook on life so enormously. for a while i had been interested in people, fascinated actually. fascinated by the things that connect us, fascinated by the things that set us apart. i was never scared to go to morocco. i was scared to be alone. for so long, i had been terrified to do anything alone. i was scared that i would look stupid in the aisles of the grocery store if i didn’t know where to find the toilet paper. i was worried that someone would look at me in the movie theater by myself and feel pity towards me. i was scared. not that something would happen to me, but scared of what people would think. going to morocco alone wasn’t scary at all. but coming back home and telling people i went alone was. their faces: some stricken with sadness, some with worry. ‘are you sure that was the best idea? are you absolutely insane?’ were just some of the responses i got.

i was prepared for the biggest culture shock that i could have imagined when i went. but what i realized was that it wasn’t actually that different. people dressed differently (people dress differently here too), people spoke different languages (people speak different languages here too), diets were different (and better). i was never afraid. i was enlightened. i was excited. and i was worried. worried because from what everyone was telling me online and in the media, morocco was a dangerous place where i should be scared to go alone. but it wasn’t. i’m sure that there are risks, but so are there everywhere. i was worried because i realized in the moment i found myself in the middle of the meknes medina with a 4 year old boy guiding me back towards his house for dinner that i could no longer trust what i was being told.

i’m sure that people’s worries come from places of genuine necessity specific to their personal situation. but this overarching fear that we have spread amongst society, driving people to be afraid of certain places, lends a hand in how we experience life. and i don’t ever want to let it do that again.

fear has somehow become a way that we measure danger in our worldviews, and sometimes, other people’s fear becomes part of how we see the world.

something to think about.

–nothingisactuallycasual

portgual was a reset for me. something a tad bit more similar to what i’m used to than morocco, but something still different than what i knew. one day in portugal i decided not to use any transportation besides my own two feet. i walked 23 miles that day. another day i met a stranger and we decided to hop on the train and go to the beach at 5pm at night. i went to dinner by myself and watched buskers for hours. i admired art and spoke to bookkeepers, asking them questions about their daily lives and how they came to become who they are now. their answers were pretty succinct: they lived.

–nothingisactuallycasual

iceland was surreal. the people and the views. i cooked my meals in a hostel kitchen with a gentleman, originally who had been living from hostel to hostel for 2 years now, unable to find an apartment. this isn’t uncommon. i remember thinking how strange it was that i was there because i wanted to see the world, and he was there because he had no where else to go. we were standing in the same kitchen, making similar meals, probably having a similar conversation, but the reasons that brought us here were entirely different. i think about him sometimes.

how easily one can call a place home when you choose it, and how different it must feel when you don’t.

–nothingisactuallycasual