I’ve written it before. I never intended to stay in Morocco longer than a week or two – maybe a month at best. And yet – here I am. Three years with my wife, a sweet little half-Moroccan daughter and sometimes it feels like I’ll never be able to get out of this country…
But, how did I get here? I left Hawaii and traveled across the USA by train before going to Spain on what I thought was going to be a trip around the world (I still haven’t made it all the way around unless you count that trip in 2001 that took me from Thailand to Canada)
People kept telling me I had to go to Morocco…and here I am.
And I left again …but again I returned to her.
And I left again…
Moving with my wife to Fez - The Vagobonds
At this point my bitchy co-worker and next door neighbor told me that my boss at the English school was going to fire me and since I was trying to prep for classes and get the psots about our wedding up and trying to adjust to married life – I screwed up and posted a journal entry that said I was going to destroy the reputations of my boss and the school if they dared to fire me – it was agreed that a resignation would be best since they hadn’t actually been intending to fire me. Oops.
Actually, my wife went back and I traveled a bit while she visited with family. I was still hoping we could stay in Turkey but with our first baby on the way – it was best for her to be back in her own country.
The Vagobaby - Introducing Sophia