Tuesday, February 23, 2010

two days in transit

I spent the last 24 hours before leaving wandering around like a chicken with its head cut off. Between trying to stay calm and tie up all loose ends, I essentially did NOTHING productive. But with some help (thanks Grace) I watched my little life get packed into 5 boxes, a suticase and a backpack. Truly, had Grace not been there I may have stared at my suitcase for much longer than the two hours it took for Grace to get home from work once I had started. After a few teary (on my end) goodbyes and last minute errands we were on our way and my two days in transit began with a sad and excited goodbye from Grace.

Everything went smoothly at SLC save the fact that I my carry on had to take on the extra 13 pounds my suitcase went over the limit-oversite! I lucked out with two seats to myself and a small white pill to ease the journey and Voila! I was in Paris. After negotiating the release of my checked bag and talking the baggage man into letting me use his phone to call Emilie (smiling seems to usually get me what I want) I landed outside a little coffee shop and tried to stay awake to meet Milie. She showed up two hours later and after what seemed like ten trains we made it to her one room flat in Boulogne (right outside of Paris). I spent my one night in Paris with Milie and friends at a Salsa club eating mexican and dancing Salsa with an older Egyptian.

After three hours of sleep I kissed Milie au revoir and boarded a very expensive taxi to the airport to head to Agadir. After a short delay because workers were striking (or so my two new friends explained to me, as everything was in French) we started our three hour journey South. Getting off the plane in Agadir was frightening to say the least. Fortunately I had made two friends on the flight down (again, smiling and broken french seems to get me a long way down here) so I figured at least I would have a phone if no one was waiting for me on the other side of these daunting customs.

Mohammud, the company's hired taxi, was waiting with phone and sign in hand. A quick conversation with one of my bosses and I was put into another taxi for a 45 minute ride to Taghazout, my new home. Today I have been given a tour of our two beach side villas and hotel (more similar to a hostel), offices and several homes. I have learned what my job will be and met over 20 of the 35 employees here and had a beautiful lunch of fallafel by the ocean-but all I can think about is going to sleep in several hours.

I am exhausted, but feel as if I've landed home. The feel here is relaxed but not lazy. I can hear the waves crash from my temporary room with it's double french doors and beautiful yellow curtains. Surprise surprise, the other yoga instructor is originally from Utah as well and so I do not feel so out of touch here. Everyone else seems to be British or Australian. I have a lot to learn but feel confident I will fit in just fine, once I master the manual transmission (thanks for the practice Grace, I have no other option here). I have also been given a cell phone to contact people here and learned that I can call any land line for free. So all of you still living in the 90's-let me know and I'll call you sometime. :)

The day will end with my first yoga class from my fellow instructor in our rooftop studio, dinner at taghazout villa with the surf instructors and guests and probably the deepest sleep in a while. Now enough about logistics and travel, next post will be written with more thought than my sleep deprived mind can muster currently. Au revoir (and yes, I have decided once again, that I speak french).


  1. I'm glad you made it. Sounds like an adventure! We need pics pronto. Everything sounds perfect.

  2. That sounds so tight!
    I am glad that everything is legit, and that you have some people you can relate to.
    Sleep tight!
    Let us know how teaching is!


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