Smooth Living: The Bumpy Road
In which I realize it can't all be smooth - Back to the USA
I swore I would never go back, but when it came down to it, I wanted my daughter to have more opportunities than being a woman in Morocco would provide.
Not So Smooth After All. I arrived back in Turkey after a week away and found my wife ready to go home. She’s not a long-term travel gal and she’d had enough of living out of a suitcase. Her idea of a great holiday is to pack a big bag, go someplace, unpack the bag, hang out for a couple of weeks, pack the bag, and go home. It was unfair to keep dragging her around and telling her she couldn’t buy more souvenirs.
“Do you want to go back to Morocco early or explore the Black Sea Coast in May?”
She wanted to go home. I changed our flight back to Morocco for two days later. I would have stayed out on the road indefinitely, but for her, this was the right decision. Sometimes it’s hard for me to accept I don’t get to do what I want any more, but that is what happens when you get married, have a baby, and take on new responsibilities. You have to compromise – unless you’re an Arab, because then the word compromise means you have to lose.
I hated going back to Morocco. I’d had enough of teaching English but that was the only job available there. So far, I’ve avoided it, but I don’t know how long that can last. The internet is flooded with travel blogs from every unemployed traveler, gap year student, or retired baby boomers. The ‘successful’ ones have the savings or income to sustain themselves while whatever might grow from travel blogging and online travel matures. They are in places where they can network with PR agencies, travel companies, and travel start-ups. I’m not. In Morocco, I get a lot of offers from people who want me to build websites for them, do marketing, or manage their SEO but for the most part, they offer less than I need to survive with a family.
In mid-2012 a travel link buying frenzy took place and I managed to bank about $10,000 before Google changed their search algorithms and killed what looked like a solid industry forming around travel sites. With that, my writing, some affiliate sales, and a few continuing link sales we could survive here for the long term and have a decent life. The problem is I hate living in Morocco.
At the boarding gate for our flight back to Morocco, the Moroccans crowded forward regardless of whether anyone was in line or not. In Morocco, there is no such thing as a line, you simply have to push your way to the front. When we lined up for customs and immigration, people shoved past us again and again - I refuse to participate and sometimes I’ll grab a pushy Moroccan dude and tell him in Arabic “Shame on you, I was standing here first.” They always look abashed and then wait behind, but someone else comes, and then someone else, and then someone else. It’s exhausting. I can’t fix the problem with Moroccans waiting in line.
Back in Morocco, we headed to the train below the terminal. The airport security guard asked my wife where we had been, what country I was from, and how long we had been gone. Then he told my wife to give him some money. I understood the whole thing and laughed at him, “Why would I give you any money?” We moved on but I heard him do the same thing to every Moroccan who walked by. Some gave him money, some ignored him. The corruption and bribery here (baksheesh) is non-stop and annoying. Trying to do official paperwork or business involves navigating a thousand hands held out. The hardest part is determining which to ignore and which to pay off because sometimes you have to pay them if you want to get anything done.
At the train station, I asked the cafe attendant for some hot water to make formula for our baby. He demanded I pay the price of a coffee. The price is low enough (about $1), but during our time in Turkey, no one had asked for such a ridiculous thing. When we arrived in Fez, we needed a taxi. We negotiated fiercely and managed to get the price down to twice the actual rate instead of six times the rate it had begun at.
Within a few hours of being back in Morocco I was exhausted and when the taxi driver drove us into our town, he demanded extra cash. I wanted to attack him, but instead, I told him to take us to the police so we could settle it. He was a cowboy (illegal) driver, so that settled that. I paid in exact change - of course he didn’t want to go to the police since he was already overcharging us – even so, I would have tipped him if he wouldn’t have been such a douchebag as to ask for more.
And so it goes in Morocco. The town we live in is not expensive by American standards but it’s ugly and getting uglier. The expats in Fez have enough money to be insulated from dealing with the bullshit or haven’t been here long enough to realize they want to leave. After a while, they all want to leave - you have to in order to maintain your sanity.
Unfortunately, that means I have to leave my wife and child behind periodically. In 2012 I again went sailing in Greece thus missing the Ramadan fast and flew home via Egypt and Turkey. Later, in November, I went to the World Travel Market in London where I came face-to-face with the ugly ‘Travel Bloggers’ again but also managed to make some great contacts for travel and writing. I keep staying in the 5-star hotels. Life is beautiful.
We wait on the notice from the US Government as to whether I can take my family back to the USA or not. I haven’t earned enough to get the green card but my uncle sponsored my wife and assured the US Government that she won’t ever be a welfare case. We sent the final batch of papers to the Customs and Immigration Service at the end of 2012 and now we wait to find out if we can return to my country.
It’s the middle of March 2013 and here I am, writing this. Is this Smooth Living? I’m not so sure after all....one thing for sure...the future lies straight ahead. Tender Heart’s immigration interview is in three days and I’ve already told her that we’re leaving as soon as possible. If we get the approval, I’ll book the tickets for our wedding anniversary and we’ll fly East to San Francisco – and that will be the conclusion of my round the world trip. To find out what happened next you’ll need to get the next book.
CD Damitio
17 March 2013
Sefrou, Morocco
If you want to continue the story and hear what happened when we got back to the USA, you can grab a copy of NOT MY AMERICA on Amazon - the story definitely continues.
If you want to read more about my life in Morocco - you can grab a copy of NOT MY MOROCCO on Amazon. That story is definitely done.