the price of silence

November 3, 2010 § 1 Comment

I’d like to think that the advertisement agents for Nike spent time abroad where they resolved that there’s only one way to meet a challenge. I’d also like to think that the ends justify their means, aka that their takeover of the sports outfitting industry via sweatshops and child labor would spread their products worldwide, precisely planned so that a boy wearing a “just do it” t-shirt would cross the street in front of me at the exact moment I needed encouragement. Why wouldn’t I jump on the opportunity to spend 8 days on a rural farm in Morocco? I’m going to do it in 2 weeks.

When I returned from Spain, I couldn’t go into my room for a few hours because the worker was there putting in windows! With these, it is not as deceptively quiet as this blog title suggests, but I have a beautiful Lebron James-Wade-Bosh trio of morale enhancement with my new hinged portholes that muffle the street noise, shield my lungs from the fumes of nicotine addicts, and provide insulation from the increasingly chilly nights in an all-tile bedroom.

Rabat is the new Portland. Last night after Arabic, Lisa and I stashed popcorn in our purses and headed to the movies. We snuck our movie munchies into the institut francais, host of a small film festival on the migrant situation in Morocco. There was a crowd more “hip” than I had ever encountered in Rabat, mostly French 20-somethings. The film itself could have been better, but I was plenty amused people watching.

I’m in the process of enrolling in a fitness club with a much less enticing name, but better equipment. And I’m behind in my journaling. I will post a video tour of my room soon.



§ One Response to the price of silence

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading the price of silence at Land Where the Sun Sets.


%d bloggers like this: