on morocco and disappointment
i spent a few days in morocco last april.
i shared some photos with you, and told you a story about a little old man in a rumpled suit with two peacocks in his bicycle basket, but i haven’t really talked about my time there.
i didn’t tell you about all the beauty i experienced in morocco.
i didn’t tell you how we made friends with the boy who helped us find our hostel on the first night. he took us on a tour of the souks and i bought turquoise blue earrings from him for my sister.
or how we stumbled upon a beautiful oasis of a restaurant that fed our bodies and souls.
or how we made friends with the shopkeeper whose shop i fell into on the first night when a young boy thrust a fake snake at me and i jumped backward. we had a long chat with him that evening and then another one the next evening over delicious sweet tea – about languages and religion and berbers and parents and marrakech.
or how we moved into a single room in the hostel in honor of my birthday and it was two stories with a gorgeous blue bathroom.
or how i stood on a rooftop and looked at the atlas mountains and talked to a canadian political science major about my very own atlas far far away.
or how we made friends with the sweet elderly gentleman in the army green trench coat who sat just outside the alley that led to our hostel. every time we passed, he took out his headphones and we would chat. he told us about living in essaouira and hanging out with jimmy hendrix and bob dylan and before we left, he took us to see a shop with incredibly high ceilings and giant colorful rugs hanging everywhere.
or how i drank the most delicious orange juice ever.
or how the call to prayer with centuries of devotion behind it reverberated through the souks and echoed above the rooftops and filled my heart so full that i thought it might burst.
i didn’t know how to tell you about the beauty because there was a bit of disappointment in it.
i thought morocco would be a place where i would sit quietly and soak in the colors and patterns and inspiration, that it would be a place where i took the sort of photos that i return to again and again.
but then we arrived in marrakech – and were thrown into the chaotic tumultuous sea that is jamaa el fna, the main square – and i discovered that it was not a place where i could sit quietly and soak in inspiration.
it was busy and loud and overwhelming.
i pick up other people’s emotions and energy – and often forget that this is true – so busy and loud and overwhelming is hard for me.
some things take time to simmer, especially things that are hard and beautiful all at once.
i couldn’t write a post about the beauty because it didn’t feel complete. i care about honesty and vulnerability and it felt like i was deliberately leaving something out.
i didn’t want to tell you about my disappointment because i was so appreciative of my adventure and didn’t want to seem like i was complaining.
but i really want to say this: it’s ok to be disappointed.
it’s perfectly ok and perfectly normal to be disappointed if something doesn’t turn out the way that you expect.
even if that something is amazing and wonderful and there is something amazing and wonderful for you in the unexpected.
it’s only in acknowledging and feeling the disappointment that you make room for something else.
i didn’t realize i was disappointed until i returned home. when i explored why i didn’t want to write about my time there, i uncovered it.
when i acknowledged my disappointment and felt it, it left. in its place was a deep appreciation for the beauty and wonder that i experienced there.
i expected one kind of beauty in morocco. what i got was another.
morocco is my reminder that a thing can hold both disappointment and enchantment, joy and overwhelm in it.
morocco is my reminder that sometimes you have to give up how you think a thing will look in order to receive something even greater.
morocco did inspire me, but in a way that was chaotic and messy and unexpected.
it cracked me open and chewed me up and spit out all the pieces.
i have not been the same since.
a tour de force elizabeth.
my morning coffee here in marrakesh!
all the visuals from all the movies i’ve ever seen of morocco flash through my mind. your words capture it deeply and strangely.
a sea change of a trip? yes. it sounds like it. and how wonderful.
I never realized you didn’t write about this until now, very well-said..thanks for bringing back all those memories..my favorite part was that old man and his carpet shop. who would’ve known the friendly guy who never seemed to work and sat in the street chatting all day had a huge carpet shop that sold carpets all over the world and to big department stores?
I loved reading your snapshots of your experiences in Marrakesh. I’ve been there too and it brought back the sights and sounds and smells {the call to prayer! Loved it every time}.
I also liked this a lot: “morocco is my reminder that sometimes you have to give up how you think a thing will look in order to receive something even greater.” I want to remember to apply that to everything.
I do not know if you have been to India but if you are planning to, be prepared to multiply your disappointment by ten. That will be the sheer volume of people and things around you wherever you go. The intensity of the experiences will be more because you will see many more women everywhere than you would have in Marrakech
Tammy: A sea change! Yes. Exactly. What a perfect depiction.
Helen: I know, right. He was such a sweetheart and that shop was amazing.
Tara: Me too. It does apply to everything.
Rummuser: I do want to visit India someday, so it’s good to know. I don’t know if I will feel disappointed though. It’s a little hard to explain but the disappointment wasn’t related exactly to the volume of people, but to my expectation of sitting and soaking in the colors and taking pictures mixed with the reality that I find it hard to soak in things when people want me to buy things because I don’t want to disappoint them or feel like I’m wasting their time.
A wise person who can come away amazed after a disappointment or dashing of a dream….love your words, my friend.
Elizabeth, I love the way you think (and write). I have been unable to write about India for more than a year now, for some of the same and some different reasons. It impacted me in ways I’m still uncovering and still am unable to verbalize.
Also, it seems very likely that Tad and I will find ourselves in Morrocco this fall – I would love to chat with you before we go.
Ann: Appreciate yours. Thank you.
Mel: Mmmm. I feel the connection. If you ever find the words, I would love to read them. And absolutely! Happy to chat with you about it however works best, phone or Skype or email.
I also absorb others emotions and being in a very crowded and noisy place can be really overstimulating. It does sound like a very interesting place to visit, though.
Once I remember to ground and center myself, all is usually well. It just takes a day or two to remember.
It was very interesting! I would love to go back.
This is a beautiful post Elizabeth! Were your photos taken with an iPhone? What I’ve learned is sometimes our own personal perception of how things will look or turn out is often always greater than the reality. I couldn’t agree with you more that it’s okay to be disappointed. I think so many people don’t get this. Thanks for sharing your photos and your thoughts about Morocco.
They were. My camera broke on my vacation, just before Morocco, so all I had was my iPhone. Which turned out to be the perfect camera!
It is interesting how we can be in enjoyment and disappointment almost in the same time. Sometimes we enjoy something in the moment, and look back on it differently. Sometimes a bittersweet thing later turns out to be not so bad after all. It’s all in the moment, and where we are in that moment, I think. With reflection we can add or subtract a little (or a lot!)… A special trip can be hard to distill, and take a lot of time to uncover. We go to places with expectations, don’t we. Some are met, others not. That’s some of the mystery of travel–we’re not always quite sure what we’ll get! This is wonderful–thank you, Elizabeth ((HUGS))