One thing I’ve always said about living overseas, it’s not for the faint-hearted. At least we’re never bored, I say. And so it is today.
“Let me ‘splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.” Inigo Montoya to the mostly-dead Westley on the castle wall.
- My husband is stuck in a desert town in southern Morocco, waiting for a phone call. He’s supposed to meet our friend Tim at the border tomorrow. Tim will be in the company of a Moroccan driver and a fruit truck full of all our stuff. They will trade off, and then Donn will climb into the cab and travel back 3 days with a fruit truck driver, with whom he may or may not be able to communicate, and with our stuff, arriving here safe and sound. Insha’allah, as they say round here, which highlights the element of uncertainty inherent in the whole endeavor.
- Two young women who were supposed to arrive in Nouakchott to do an internship at our old English center never got visas. They were turned away in the Mauritanian airport and flown back to Morocco, where they have apparently disappeared. I mean, I assume they’re somewhere, but no one has heard from them since last night. When they were put on the flight, the airline claimed there was no room for their carry-on luggage and kept it. Wha??? As a result, we think they may not have their computers, which would explain why they haven‘t been in contact with anyone all day. I suspect they crashed at a hotel; I know that potent mix of uncertainty and jet lag on top of two sleepless nights in a row. The thing is, I am supposed to be taking care of them while they’re stuck here, but how can I do that when I don’t know where they are?
- Horrible horrible news this morning. The guy was a friend; his kids were friends with our kids and were supposed to be coming for a visit this summer.
- And yes, as a result of that last item, it’s entirely possible that Tim and the truck full o’ stuff won’t make that meeting tomorrow.