The End of a Marathon
“When what you see in front of you is so far outside of what you dreamed, but you have the belief, the boldness, the courage to call it beautiful instead of calling it wrong, that’s celebration.” — Shauna Niequist
Getting out of your comfort zone feels a lot like how I’d imagine running a marathon would feel. You are told by the end of it you’ll be stronger, but the actual running is painful and challenging and sometimes you’re afraid the finish line will never come.
In all honesty, this summer felt like a marathon; it was a lot harder than I had anticipated it to be.
Spending my summer with only one other person meant there was often a deep sense of loneliness due to the lack of human interaction. ASILA is run entirely by Manal herself, so even at our office, the team was us two and Manal. Traveling was us two and Manal. Breakfast, dinner, and days off? Just us two.
It wasn’t all glamorous with incredible trips and inspiring women and meaningful work (though there were plenty of those days, as well). Sometimes living in a foreign country looks more like eating alone at the same Thai restaurant for the third night in a row because they play Amy Winehouse and have food that is familiar and comforting. It looks like watching movie after movie on the only English channel available after work. It even looked like tears, frustration, and defeat at times.
And I was embarrassed about the non-glamorous parts. I felt like I was somehow failing myself. I was on a fellowship in a beautiful country getting to work for a boss that doubled as my best friend, for a cause I deeply believed in, yet I was homesick?
Yes. And I had to teach myself that it was okay.
I ended up learning as much about life this summer as I did about work, thanks to the knowledge, grace, compassion, and mentorship of my boss, Manal. She continuously showed up to hold my hand, talk with me about whatever I was feeling, and believe in me. She managed to find joy in quite literally every second of every day… so I followed her lead.
I had to learn how to be okay with being uncomfortable, how to find comfort in solitude, how to find lessons in difficult situations, and how to ask for help. I practiced the art of creating my own joy.
In the last 24 hours at my placement, I ended up in the emergency room of a hospital in the Sahara Desert due to a severe nosebleed that lasted over an hour. I was overheated, exhausted, and my body would not stop losing blood. After I got the necessary medicine and was released because my blood pressure was stable, we headed back to the Kasbah where everyone had left on their camels to ride into the desert for the night. I then also realized I had left my bag with all of my belongings (including my camera, passport, drivers license, and wallet) in the car we took to the hospital since we were in such a rush, so in attempt to cheer me up — while they coordinated with the driver to get all my belongings back — the men who ran the Kasbah insisted Manal and I get driven into our camp site. On a four-wheeler. By sitting on the roof.
As I clutched on to the roof and drove over sand dune after sand dune under a full moon, I had one of the “Oh my god, I’m in the Sahara Desert” moments. As cliché as it sounds, that was the moment I realized I had made it. The marathon was over.
Now that I’ve finished the metaphorical marathon and am planning my return to the U.S., it feels pretty damn good. I’m excited for the huge meals to follow (avocado!! bacon!! pasta!!), I’m ready to be in my own bed, and I’m slowly realizing that all those miles were worth it.
There were lessons I would have never learned elsewhere, beautiful moments that left me speechless, and a lot of self-reflection and growth that came out of the hardships.
Morocco, thank you for this summer.
