Reflecting and such: Today vs. 6 months ago

I’m dirtier. But it really doesn’t bother me that much. Now, rather than throwing clothes in the laundry bin and then fishing through it later, I just fold them back up again because I know I am going to wear them again. Until they smell. Pretty bad. I’m calmer. But that is attributable to not having many stressful things on my plate, not to any change or new guiding principle I’ve developed. I can speak a new language, perhaps better than any foreign language I’ve spoken before. And it’s wonderful to be able to communicate with people, but sad whenever the conversation ends with my inability to speak another language. I think a lot and I think it’s keeping me up at night. Without a large circle of friends close at hand and constant daily conversation in a language I fully understand and through which I can accurately express myself, I find myself thinking more. I look back on all kinds of relationships with people with an intensity and scrutiny they don’t get when I’m around them. I think about choices I’ve made. I think about all the potential outcomes after two years in Morocco. I read with much more interest than I ever could in college. I’m hoping to give myself another education. With a little work, I think I might be able to learn as much here in two years as I did in college. First subject that I’d like to look into: linguistics. Currently, I find the subject fascination. I have a friend. She’s married, has a child, prays five times a day and I had to inform her that Jews don’t smell different from the rest of us, but she cares about me and my well-being and we can make each other laugh. We can talk to each other honestly because we know what we say won’t reach the whole town. I miss fancy meals. My mouth generally waters when reading about restaurants or recipes for steak, lamb, bacon, mushrooms, parmesan, and the list goes on. I will try to create what I can, but I don’t think I yet possess the culinary creativity demanded when faced with limited ingredients. An unfortunate side note: the meat selection really does not lend itself to the idea of the first international Steak Off. I’ve gotten taller. Maybe that’s a stretch. But I have realized that I’m no longer short in Morocco. For the first time in about 7 years when I told someone I played basketball in high school, I didn’t get a laugh. I might blush less. I stood up in front of a room of about 80 boys between the ages of 14 and 22 and spoke to them off the top of my head in Arabic and I am pretty sure I maintained my normal complexion. Time has never gone by so quickly and I’m not sure how I feel about it. It’s good because I’m not dwelling on getting home, but also worrisome because what if I don’t get anything done? I keep on telling myself that I still have two years, but I won’t have two years forever.