Oh Morocco...
Meeting yourself on the other side of the world
Issue #147 Op-Ed October 10. 2022
Free Your Mind…
I’m not normally one to give advice (probably because I’m usually the one who needs it), but there is one piece of advice I would give to someone who has never traveled to a foreign country; leave yourself behind.
Whoever it was you were before you stepped onto that plane? Put that person in cold storage. Because to experience a new country with old eyes is no experience at all. You need to open yourself up and prepare yourself for the fact that however you used to do things isn’t the way things are done elsewhere. Not saying it’s better, not saying it’s worse. But different is different, and if you’re not ready for different then stay your ass at home.
The other piece of advice (yeah, I’m on a roll), is that whatever you do, travel to a foreign country. And don’t just do the tour guide thing or the resort thing (I have done both), although they are fine too. If you ever have the opportunity to experience another country without the training wheels and without other Americans tagging along and hanging around, but with someone who actually lives in that country and knows its rhythms and quirks, then rob a bank or whatever else you have to do to make that trip happen. Steal that vacation if you must.
So no, Pam and I did not rob a bank to facilitate our recent trip to Morocco (because you never know who may be monitoring these transmissions). But now that we’re back, I kinda think just maybe we might have considered it. Only as a last resort, right? But just in case. Because one way or another, this was a trip that had to happen.
The Universe
For most of our trip, we stayed with my friend Shelley. Shelley and I had not seen or otherwise communicated with one another in the 58 years since 1st grade until close to two years ago when I came across her photo on Facebook where it said: “People You May Know.” As soon as I saw her face I knew it was her because you never forget your first crush.
Here’s the abbreviated version of the story. I was one of the first two Black kids to integrate Steck Elementary School. I’m pretty sure there was no one else before me and a kid named Johnny who was also in my class. My first-grade teacher was a woman named Miss Birkey who was something that rhymed with “witch.” One day she called me out because my shirttail wasn’t tucked in. I tucked it in. She said I didn’t do it right and called me up to the front of the class where she yanked my shirt out of my pants and then tucked it back in. She did this display in front of the entire classroom, then told the class to laugh at me for being too stupid to know how to tuck in my shirt.
Shelley wouldn’t laugh, and I never forgot that. Later, I invited her to my 7th birthday party (her father brought her), and then she invited me to hers. Or maybe it was the other way around. I honestly can’t remember. What I do remember is that I never saw her again after 1st grade because her father died, which changed her life considerably. One thing Shelley never forgot (and that I did not remember until she told me the story while we were at her home in Morocco) is that I wrote her a condolence letter telling her how sorry I was she had lost her father. I think she still has that letter.
Fifty-eight years later I’m reaching out to Shelley on Facebook, asking if she is the same Shelley who came to my birthday party and who attended Steck Elementary School in Denver, Colorado. Literally within half an hour, Shelley sent me a picture of me at her birthday party in 1st grade. Within weeks she invited me and Pam to come to see her in Morocco. I said don’t say that if you don’t mean it. She meant it. So two years later, we made the trip.
Shelley’s view is that this kind of reconnection doesn’t happen randomly. She says this is where the universe steps in, and I have to say I believe her. I’m not even sure yet of everything this trip has meant for both me and Pam - how it has changed us - because it was simply overwhelming on so many levels. But over time I know that Morocco will continue to unravel itself within both of our spirits. Because if there is one thing I have learned over the years, and that was confirmed for me in Morocco, it’s that you don’t rush the Universe. All things in their time.
And Away We Go…
Sometimes no words are the best words…
The End…?
Thank you Susan! I'm so glad you enjoyed the post, and yes Shelley really is special. It was fantastic reconnecting with her, and this was truly a once-in-a-lifetime experience thanks to her. Much more than simply a vacation.
Sounds like an amazing experience. I have had the good fortune to reconnect with many people from my childhood thanks to social media. It’s even better when you get to do so in person. Shelly seems like a special lady. It must have been mind-blowing to be able to exchange memories that go so far back and were important enough to have stayed in your mind all these years.