And Then There Were None

That’s right. I broke the cardinal rule of blogging.

I let an entire month go by with no posts.

But I had good reason. In that month I…

…aced my finals. While dealing with the emotional drama of saying goodbye to new friends, family and a country to call home (plus the collapse of my love life in the U.S.), I cranked out three papers, two written tests in foreign languages, one oral foreign language test and a final presentation. The most frustrating part – in the end – was how much I missed my University’s library. The Moroccan National Library is open to students, but I find the echoey hallways and ban on Facebook utterly intimidating.

…got a tan. My roommate and I tried to cram all those things we’d said we wanted to do from the start into our last couple weeks: eat snail soup, go surfing (she did, I didn’t) and take one really relaxing vacation. To that end, we spent our last weekend in the same beach town I visited over spring break, Essaouira. We ate some tasty chicken chwarma (which turned out to be not so good), and I brought out my bathing suit for the second time all semester. Morocco pulled out all the stops, giving us two terrifying experiences that weekend to cap off our stay — but we survived and lived to forget the tales.

…said goodbye. Got on a plane and seven hours later, I was back in the land of French fries and ketchup. Or more accurately, French fries, gravy and cheese curd — my flight landed in Montreal. I left Morocco behind, but not before witnessing men practically fighting to carry my suitcases for me. Thank God for Moroccan hospitality and my irresistible foreignness.

…cut off all my hair. Not to be too much of a cliche, but after all I witnessed in the past four months, I feel like a new “Sarah.” To match my inner new Sarah, I now have new Sarah hair, too. My awesome stylist, Kathy from The Gallery in Concord, cut off 10 inches and dyed the rest auburn.

…resigned myself to the BRAT diet. After two days of painful stomach cramps and an inability to digest food properly, I went to the doctor and found out that delightful chicken chwarma back in Essaouira contained campylobacter, a bacteria that took up root in both my and Robin’s intestines. For almost a month now, I’ve been avoiding alcohol and spicy foods – with only one bad lapse – and I have to say, it has taken some patience.

…started an internship at ABCNews.com. That’s right. If you’re looking for a story on Sarah Palin or the National Spelling Bee this summer, you’ll know who to call.

…dived right back into D.C. living. I’ve got a new apartment, right across the bridge from the hottest nightlife in the District. I’ve got a pantry full of food that I picked out and purchased myself (such a novelty after four months of Mama Rachida’s cooking…not that I’m complaining either way). I’ve got a walk-in closet full of heels and dresses. All of this is so different than my life one month ago, that sometimes I have to stop and remind myself that it wasn’t all a dream.

But it wasn’t. Morocco was and still is real. I have the souvenirs — and stomach bacteria — to prove it.