Kamil goes to Morocco - part deux

le 28 juin 2009

Right now, I am sitting at the Brussels airport (the shitty Charleroi, unfortunately) and waiting for my plane to Casablanca, Morocco where on Monday, I will start a new job and a new chapter of my life.

Le Maroc - part deux.

If you have not heard any updates from me you must be really surprised now. You would probably expect me to still be in Brussels, working, partying and living there. Airports became my home - that is the truth. I was traveling a lot in order to get outside of Belgium as often as possible. You should not be confused because of reading I am at the airport. But this time you might be confused. You actually should be. You must be. I am. A few weeks ago, I would not have believed if you had told me I would be coming back to the Kingdom. Especially within such a short notice.

So listen to what happened to me.

It has been a while since I last fed you with any news. Less than two months but way too much for one person to handle within such a short period of one's life. It was both positive and negative. To summarize the two aspects - it was very intense.

First of all, in the last week of May, my employer decided not to prolong my contract after my internship. I was kind of happy to hear that actually. I did not want to take that job for another year(s) and for sure I did not desire to continue living in Belgium - a very weird country placed in the heart of Europe. On the other hand, the job was socially perceived as stable, predictable and comfortable. A job not to put away because in the long term it will allow you to have a settled life. A job you do not need to like for its content but rather for all the financial and material aspects it provides you with. Saying 'no' and quitting would be a difficult decision. 'Will I regret it? Will I want to be back, have a decent salary and all the social benefits? Won't it be too late?' I was confused and freaked out about the idea of having to choose between staying with the boring and predictable company or going for something that I would like more but also that would be more exciting, unpredictable and dangerous. Luckily for me, someone else made the decision. I was not given the choice - and even though their decision frightened me, I was relieved.

A few days later, I went on my planned trip to the Kingdom. Back then, I was not anticipating to return there. I booked it more than three months before and it was just a five-day trip to see the people and places I had been missing. I forgot how intense Morocco can be anytime you interact with the country. It was when I was there that my relationship finished and I had to abandon my plans to move somewhere else. Less than a week after losing my job in Belgium (or rather not being given the extension of my contract), I lost my relationship. In a way, it spoiled my trip. But the atmosphere and my friends in the Kingdom made it much easier for me to deal with it. My relationship ended in the same place (even in the same neighborhood) where it started one year before.

At the same time, I decided that it was probably a sign that things had ended that way. I realized that it could be an opportunity to move back to the Kingdom. A friend of mine told me about a European company opening up in Morocco. I got the contact and a recommendation and a few days later, I had an interview in Brussels. I was invited for a dinner that lasted so long that I managed to get drunk with the served alcohols (champagne and red wine) and still get sober after a while. A few days after the interview I was asked to complete an application form and another few days later, I was invited for a second meeting. Having discussed all the details, financial conditions and work aspects I decided to take the opportunity I had been offered. 'Book the ticket for the coming weekend' said my new boss to me last Tuesday. So on the night from Tuesday to Wednesday (from the 23rd to 24th of June) I booked the ticket from Brussels to Casablanca. To make it more meaningful and dramatic, let me gently remind that on that day exactly year ago, I left Morocco. How could I ever dare to expect that a year later, on the exact same day, I will purchase a one-way ticket back to Morocco. I guess that was the best way I could celebrate the first anniversary of my departure.

So right now, when I am writing this, I am still sitting on a chair at the airport of Brussels-Charleroi in Belgium, waiting for my flight to Casablanca, Morocco. I am sad to be leaving my friends in Brussels and I feel bad about seeing my relationship did not make it successfully. I am afraid of the new job and returning to Morocco where things could be different than before. However, for the moment I think this is the right place and the right job. I think it is Morocco where I will be the happiest. I do think it is my job that will be very exciting and it is a right thing for me to start. Within a few past weeks, many doors closed for me. But many opened at the same time.

Although very scared and stressed, I am doing the right thing.

All in all, I will live in Rabat again. Isn't this unbelievable?

God is a DJ

I do not entirely understand why it happens like this but it is the fact and the statistics prove it too. If you count all the great parties I have been to during the last few months there will be a disturbingly high percentage of parties in Brussels. Scarily high comparing with partying outside of Brussels or Belgium.

This implies that parties here must be cool. I have to admit that. Many of them are.

On the last weekend of April, I got invited to a birthday party of a new friend. She is British and works in a language school, she is super cool and is a nice escape from the corporate/eurocrat crowd of Brussels. She has got most of the characteristics of a person I usually connect quickly and easily: she's smart, liberal, funny, intelligent, a bit cynical, has extensive international experience and loves partying. A perfect match.

So on last Saturday of April, another good Polish-Bruxelloise friend of mine and I found ourselves at her birthday party. She had gathered a very tasteful and interesting mix of people: a theologist, a bisexual girl from Scandinavia being an au-pair in Brussels and another au-pair from the US currently living in Brussels whose mother turned out to be lesbian and having divorced her husband found a girlfriend and started living with her. Some other cool personalities included a big crowd of random but funny Polish people. Plus all the characteristics I have mentioned above that always attract me to newly met people. The red wine as usual was a profound support of deep conversations and silly laughter. 

Around 11 PM it was time to hit another place - a party in the church. But some obstacles in the meantime prevented us from reaching the shrine on time. Having drunk too much wine (and not thinking of stopping it) I was enlightened enough to decide not to drive the car myself. I then asked a sober girl from the party to do it for me. She agreed and soon we all found ourselves in my car driving towards the centre where the church party had surely taken off. But the devil was not on our side. On a very sharp turn the satan suggested me sipping some more of the red wine. I followed his idea and unfortunately spilled quite a lot of the good old red on my lovely black and white sweater. The pure whiteness of my snow-white stripes of that piece of clothing was damaged by the bloody redness of the wine.

'Shit' I said to myself. 

'Shit' I repeated. 

'We're changing the direction!' I shouted and everyone looked at me. 'We're going home now' I continued. 'I need to wash off the stain'.

No one objected. I bet no one dared. After reaching home, I threw away the empty cup of wine and headed towards the door. I rushed in and went straight to my room. Still being drunk I took off the sweater, dropped it on the table and poured some anti-stain liquid. Then I put some salt on it and then placed it in the laundry machine.

'It's in God's hands now' I thought to myself 'and I will have to pray in the church so that it disappears'.

I rushed off my room and told everyone to leave for the party. A few minutes later, we were at the door of the church of Gesù in Brussels. Unfortunately, the door was blocked by an incredible long line of people. Pretending to have some friends in the line I started waving to some random strangers trying to make everyone believe they were my friends. That way, we managed to end up in the line being only a few minutes from the entrance. I do not know until now how that happened. I am normally a very obedient and good boy (too good?) who always waits in queues for his turn, who always pays the expected amount, never bargains or argues. That night I was very rebellious and it is only the universe that might have the answer.

After a few minutes, we entered. It was startling. The huge interior of the shrine was packed with people. The soaring arches of the pillars were finishing in the ceiling and were highlighted by the red, blue, yellow (and who knows what other colors) lights of the bunches of reflectors all over the place. The sounds of the music were gently blurred by the sizes and the cubature of the nave. The high altar was replaced with the DJ. There was much wider choice of the different alcohols than only the communion wine. Listening to confessions of all the sinners were highly acceptable and appropriate. And finally everyone had the possibility of doing the two at one time: having a party and a morning Sunday service (a perfect two in one). The place was awesome and the party was ultimately fabulous. We finished it around 4 or 5 AM and headed home. Then a nice brunch in the morning with a good friend.

A perfect weekend. And it included going to the church.

Amen.

the brighter side of life

Even though, I am very neurotic and often cannot really appreciate some aspects of my life, there is unquestionably a lot of good things and it has to be made clear.

Despite the fact that Brussels is not the most exciting city in Europe it is definitely very international and if you really struggle hard enough you will manage to find great places and people who will make your time spent there amazing. It works well for me.

Secondly, I have quite a lot of free time after work. My job (so far) does not require me work overtime and my studies are not very time consuming either. Sometimes, it is not a blessing to have to much time but I try to use it as effectively as possible. I manage to travel a lot - within the last month, I went to Geneva, Annecy (a small French town close to Geneve), Paris, Trier (Germany), Vienna or Venice. Having friends in some of these places or wonderful community of Couch Surfing make my experience unbelievable.

I earn enough to live, travel and have a nice lifestyle. It is the first time in my life that I have a decent salary and that I can actually save some money. Moreover, I have all the boring and sometimes scary or overwhelming things in my life like social insurance, retirement plan even though they are probably necessary.

So why am I still unhappy?

une nuit dans la boîte de nuit

There are sometimes (often or maybe even very often?) days when we cannot really recognize ourselves. The times when we look at each other and think 'I would never think that I would do this' or 'I would never expect that I would enjoy that'. Are they the signs of permanent changes that we become part of? Or maybe rather a small trigger to carry us away from our common ourselves?

Whichever of the aforementioned it was, it happened to me last night.

Around 8 PM, I got a message from a friend of mine who invited me to a party at a fancy night club - Mirano - a place to be where a theme night called 'Folie Burgeois' was about to take place as it does once every month. Usually refusing to go to that kind of places, I decided not to do so that time. Maybe because I really felt like partying or because I had already refused to go out a few days earlier and I did not want to do it again. Probably both. I replied 'YES' and started getting ready while drinking some red wine in order to put myself in the right mood and avoid paying exorbitant prices at the party. The latter turned to be inevitable.

I left home and headed to Mirano that luckily is just about three minutes on foot from my place. At the entrance, I met up with my friends. All fancily dressed up, fragrantly perfumed and trendily combed. Everyone hoping to drink some indecent quantities of alcohol, dance on the tops of the tops of the spinning dance floors and of course - meet potential dates, boyfriends, girlfriends or at least (in some cases - only) candidates for one-night-stands.

I found myself among people with that kind of desires.

We entered ending up in a spacious but still very crowded vestibule of Mirano. Whenever you are inside it is better not to have a jacket or want to pee - the queues to the toilet or the cloakroom seem never-ending. Luckily, I had none of those wishes so I freely walked to the main dance floor - it was even more crowded. The thick air smelled of cigarettes and God knows of what else. A drag queen was dancing on the stage in the middle of the dance floor that was spinning around its axis. There were much more shows later that included - some hot, muscled guys wearing leather, dancing with fire and walking on stilts or hot female dancers hardly dressed up, moving seductively and drawing attention of all the guys around. The techno music was extremely loud and aggressive. As expected the drinks were very expensive. Nevertheless, in my excitement, I turned out to be very generous buying whiskey to some random, freshly met (straight!) guy. Having been drunk enough, I led myself to the main room where I bumped into another friend of mine with whom I crazily took over the dance floor staying there for at least one hour of unstoppable dance.

The place and its ambience had to remind me of similar places in the Kingdom - Theatro in Marrakech or another night club in a fancy and expensive neighborhood of Casablanca. I partied in the latter in the end of May last year. I was drunk and I ended up there with some friends and random people. I would have normally disliked that kind of a disco but that time it was different. Loud techno music, crowds of rich and spoiled Moroccan boys and girls and killing prices did not put me off. I enjoyed myself while dancing, wandering or stumbling over; glass of some drink including vodka in hand. 

Pretty much the same atmosphere as casablancoise was last night in Brussels.

I still do not know why I normally hate this kind of places but then it was different e.g. last night. Is it the matter of my attitude? Or maybe it is because of some rare conjunction of the planets of our solar system that made me like things I normally do not enjoy. Then it is only approximately once a year that it happens so I will have to wait until 2010 for another party like this.

I must then hope for more frequent conjunctions. May the solar system help us realize our dreams!

the theory of probability

Sometimes to be lucky… you just need some luck. It is not so much that you can do in order to get it. It is rather the theory of probability in mathematics that can explain this phenomenon.

You just need to happen to go the right place, pass the right street or bump into the right people. If today you leave the office too early, then maybe you will miss the love of your life who left the office later than usual and therefore you will not happen to meet by chance.

Two weekends ago, the theory of probability was on my side.

On Friday, I went to an Irish pub called ‘Wild Geese’ where I met up with a girl from my office who had suggested to all Poles working with us to hang out in that pub on that day. We were the only ones to show up. She came over with a friend who used to work in marketing for private sector but hated it so much that she decided to apply for a prestigious diplomatic-consular course organized by the Polish Foreign Ministry and ended up working in Brussels at the Polish delegation by the UE where she deals with the Iran’s nuclear programme. She never regretted her decision and she finds her current job much more interesting and exciting. Her husband works in consulting and truly hates it. A friend that came over there with me also hates her job so we connected over the mutual, negative feelings we had for our professions. It was us – the unhappier ones trying to find our way in our confusions and her – the happier one who decided to go for something totally different and out-of-the-box. And she succeeded while we were failing.

No matter how sad it sounded it at least gave me the idea of how things could be handled.

Around eleven PM, we decided to leave. We said goodbye and everyone headed towards their cars. When I was about to get in I heard my name being said and then I saw two friends of mine standing and smiling to me. I was happy to see them. We talked a bit and later they suggested coming back to Wild Geese where they were heading too. I did not oppose and spontaneously accompanied them.

Le part deux of the night was even more amazing. We spoke about the escape from the convenient golden cages of social insurances, retirement plans and decent salaries – all paid in order to keep people doing the boring jobs. We thought of going to places like Goa, South-East Asia or at least to charming and lovely Mediterranean region. Out of sudden, she reminded herself about my blog and started praising my writing – both the writing and the language skills, the topics I write about and the thoughts and remarks I have. She said I should start doing that professionally. To make it even more meaningful, a few seconds later I bumped into another person who kept reading my blog and she also praised it saying I was writing in a smart and funny way while at the same time it was also very intriguing. I was speechless to receive so much flattery. I must have looked like a fifteen-year old, ugly and full of complexes girl who was just a subject of attention of the cutest guy in the school.

If I had not wrongly booked my plane tickets to Italy and thus if I had gone to Venice on that weekend (that was the plan), if I had not received the email from my colleague, if I had not left the pub at eleven PM only to bump into my friends and return there, that all would have never happened.

The next days were full of reunions with friends from different parts of the world who at that same time all happened to be in Brussels. It was wonderful and just made me realize that long-distance friendships were also possible.

On Saturday, my Polish friend, Aleksandra, invited me for a Portuguese dinner she was going to. It was organized by the Couch Surfing community and it involved different nationalities, different personalities – all sharing many things in common – being open-minded, with international experience, speaking a few languages and being extremely interesting, funny and smart. A fabulous mix I always adore. These people seemed much happier and reconciled with their lives and occupations as they looked like they had been enjoying it all.

If my friend, Aleksandra, had not been blown off by her friends who did not go to Amsterdam with her, if I had gone to Venice or decided to answer another invitation I would have never ended up in that place, enjoying the conversation, food and great people.

Even tough, we can never totally control the theory of probability and where it might take us I am sure that we still have a lot of room for manoeuvring and increasing our chances.

And thus we will live happily ever after.

the theory of relativity

The bad season came unexpectedly along with the New Year of 2009. It showed me its nasty images and did not let enjoy my life in this city properly. Or maybe it was me who went to the DVD store and took the wrong CD with the wrong season. Was it my entire fault not to be able to enjoy my life as it deserves to be enjoyed? Did I make enough efforts to get the new season? Or maybe I had too much of a bad attitude?

Why can't we (or rather I) be happy the way we should be especially when we have few worries around? Are we too idealistic? Requiring? Neurotic? Unfair towards ourselves and our achievements?

If 10 years ago, someone had told me how my life would look like in 2009 I would probably not have believed them. It would have sounded to me like a never-attainable dream. A paradise. Living and working abroad. Having great parties and travels. Going out and spending time with wonderful people. Earning decent money and having promising perspectives for the future.

In 1999, if someone had said offered all that, I would have accepted it without a sign of hesitation or questioning. I would have taken it all with my eyes closed. I would have embraced it and thanked God for the rest of my life.

And now, that I have it all I am often not able to fully enjoy it and live it the way it should be lived. Is it because I am neurotic, over-demanding and always-complaining?

This all just shows that happiness is a very relative term. And I am not speaking about how it is perceived by various people because then we will obviously see it is very relative. But even us – we see it differently depending on what we currently have and what we still want to achieve. It is much more difficult to stop, look back and smile. Instead we just look forward and run with tired faces.

But on the other hand, maybe we should keep questioning what we have and make sure that what we have is what we really need. Do I really require too much when I say I want to like what I do? Or simply I did not try hard enough to be convinced it would be something for me? Does it take time to start liking it or you should know it right away? Should I give it more time? Should I be punished for not entirely enjoying it while other people from my country and of my age say I am extremely lucky to have this kind of life given the current economical situation? If I change it will it make me happier or will I find other aspects to complain about? Should I fight for something I am not sure I want to win? Maybe, once achieved I will love it. Or maybe I will want to toss it away and struggle to get something new.

I guess the bad season is not because I like something or not.

It is definitely because I do not have enough answers. Instead there are too many unsolved equations.

Rabat for you, Rabat forever

Today, I got thrilled having received an email entitled 'Rabat dla Ciebie' which meant 'Rabat for you'. After getting back to a normal state preceded by a heat wave of excitement I read the email and then to my disappointment I realized it was not about the capital of Morocco. 'Rabat' in Polish means also 'a discount'. And I was just informed that the development of the large size photos now costs the same as the development of the small ones...

Damn it!

the eternal clash of the South and the North

On Saturday, on the Couch Surfing Portuguese night dinner, someone suggested an idea of Latin and Germanic brains. For some people it is easier to learn Latin languages (Italian, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Romanian etc) and for others Germanic ones (English, German, Dutch, Danish, Swedish, Norwegian etc).

Is that truth? It might seem like in my case. Even though it was not a problem for me to learn English, it was much more difficult to learn German. I did not like the fact that there were three genders (masculine, feminine and neutral) - I not only struggled to memorize the vocabulary but also the corresponding gender. Often unsuccessfully. Even if, the grammar was not so difficult (I hardly have problems with grammar in any language including my dear Polish) I had problems with learning vocabulary by heart - especially the verbs. None of these issues is the case for me while learning French. I do not confuse the genders too often and I guess it is not such a big case to memorize the words. I studied German for around eight years and now I cannot really speak it. Unlike French of which I have a conversational level after less than two years of studying (and although French is widely spoken in both Morocco and Belgium I still would mostly be part of Arabic/English/Flemish and less often French speaking groups). I also understand some Spanish and Italian although I never studied any of them. Is it just that they are easier or more similar to French? Are Germanic languages (i.e. Dutch or the Scandinavian ones) more difficult than the Latin ones? So what about the people who say they have Germanic brains?

Are we more likely to learn more easily only Germanic or only Latin tongues? 

Joseph Conrad

Orhan Pamuk, the Turkish writer from Istanbul, in his book about his home city really praised and enjoyed his childhood and whole life he had lived there. It was like a promised land to him. Even if it was not a heaven on Earth, it definitely was a special, magical and meaningful place and no other city or country in the whole world could be more important and close to him. In the same book he contradicted himself and the fact of him having strong roots in a certain place (Istanbul in his case) to writers like Vladimir Nabobkov or Joseph Conrad who travelled all their lives, spending years abroad and living there, hardly ever coming back to their home countries. Joseph Conrad, who grew up in Poland and whose native language was Polish, was a writer who wrote his novels in English - a tongue that he learnt in his twenties having already spoken fluent French. Most of his life after leaving Poland, he spent working as a sailor and later just living abroad and being a writer. He never returned to Poland for good.

As even the dumbest reader (not to insult anybody whatsoever) of this blog may guess I am rather a Conrad or Nabobkov than Pamuk type. I left my country at the age of twenty-three and even tough I was not planning on staying abroad permanently it did happen to me and probably I will never come back to Poland for good. Not only do I live abroad but I am rather the type who feels like living everywhere and thus settling down nowhere. Once while waiting in the queue to Mirano, I met a friend of my friend who initiated the standard interrogation with a freshly encountered Brussels' expat (me). He asked me for my name, my profession and for how much longer I was going to stay in the city. I answered 'I have been here for nearly five months and I will stay for another half a year. Then I will probably move to another country'. 'Oh, I understand' he replied 'you are this kind of a person' he continued meaning that I was not an expat who settles down but rather lives everywhere for a fixed period of time and then changes the place. I was unceremoniously put on a labeled shelf but on the other hand his response meant he had perfectly understood who I was. And that was the truth.

I have friends in so many countries and cities all over the world. I have visited quite a few places in Europe and Mediterranean region and as soon as I have the chance I will go everywhere in the world. I love being abroad but I guess I do not like the idea of settling down for good in one place. I live everywhere and nowhere in the end. I have friends everywhere but in the end will they be in one place with me once I need them badly? My family is always far from me (or it is me who is far from them?) and they do not really understand why I want to live abroad (but I might understand why they do not understand that), travel and live this kind of life. We keep in touch obviously but it is nothing really strong or profound. It is never enough time for me to really understand the culture I live in and plunge into it deeply because I tend to leave the countries pretty quickly. Do I learn enough about the politics, the famous people, the history, the well-known places? Maybe if I did so, I would understand the people and their actions more instead of complaining about their awkward behaviors. In the same time due to not living in Poland I keep getting further and further from the country and culture I grew up in. Once my friends and I laughed at a person who asked one of my frequent traveling friends 'oh boy! You travel so much. Don't you get confused?' We did make a lot of fun of it once we were told that. But it is not that funny sometimes. Isn't it sometimes confusing to live abroad? I.e. to be part of a discussion among five locals speaking their own language when you do not understand a single word of what they say? The worst thing for me about living abroad is when I start hating the country but on the other hand I know I do not want to return to Poland because it is not going to be better there and I do not want to go to another country either as I do not presume it would solve my problems. It happened to me in Morocco in the middle of my stay. I stopped liking it. However, I did not want to be in Poland or in any other country. I just felt trapped. No place for me where I could have been happy.

Have I become rootless? A true citizen of the world without a real home but still having it anywhere he moves in? Is it bad or good? Do I need to have roots and feel part of a place, city or a country? Or is it better to just feel a human being who can live anywhere? Do I need to define it? Why is it sometimes so amazing and wonderful and sometimes so confusing?

As I wrote in one of the previous posts - most of the times it is better than anything else. But sometimes it is not the most of the times.

erase/rewind?

It has been a bumpy and rocky road with many ups and down recently. Probably they were mostly caused by me and not necessarily by the world surrounding me. Some people call it a mid-twenties crisis. The others say it is just the inability to live and appreciate what you have achieved and been blessed with in your life. And some other of them just think it is just what you deserved due to not having followed your dreams when you were younger and having chosen something convenient, predictable, stable and boring instead.

Quite possible that all of them are right. I do not know whether I made a mistake starting to study economics. It did make me who I am now and whom I know which is not too shabby whatsoever. But also, it is for sure not something that will make me do a job that I will be crazy about. And I think I need a little bit of the craziness. On the other hand, my course of studies allows me to do a job that provides me with money for doing things I love. I have quite a decent amount of days off and I am well paid which helps me travel, go out and save. But can't we have it all? To do what we like and earn money in the same time. Is it only the shitty jobs that are paid so good in order to attract people to do them? Will no one pay a sufficient money to a person who likes their job? Are there people who both adore their jobs and make enough money? Or are they like Yeti? You know they exist but they were never seen.

This is all not only black and white. It is a very risky territory. What I do now is not only boring and meaningless. I am saving money for the first time in my life. If I stay a couple of years I will get promoted quite quickly and will be able to make more money and e.g. buy an apartment. Changing it all? How should I know the new thing will be much more exciting especially if now I presume there are some drawbacks stopping me from quitting my current job and starting some crazier and less predictable like i.e. teaching English around the world. How do I know I will be a good teacher? I was a private math tutor back in Poland and it was not the easiest job in the world. How do I know I will easily find and employment not being a native speaker. It is very unstable in terms of incomes and they are rarely relatively low.

Speaking about the current job can I say that I have given it enough time to like and accept it? Maybe I still need some more weeks or months to be fully inducted and much more comfortable with it. Should I give up on things that easily and change them so immediately having realized I do not like them? Yes, it is good to be flexible and change the negative aspects of our lives. But shouldn't we sometimes wait a bit and let things adjust in our lives so that we are more convenient with them as time passes by? On the other hand, you always have to do what you truly like and what makes you enjoy it. On another hand, I am afraid that as a job is always something that you have to do you will never be able to enjoy fully as it is always a must. So will I ever like my job? Is it possible? 

A job-hunt process is something that makes me work really hard and be very efficient but when there are problems or when I am rejected I am very upset and it gets me very down really easily. Last week, I started sending some inquiries about possible jobs in the same field and company I am in now but in different countries. After receiving a few negative replies (mostly due to lack of needs of new employees usually because of the economical crisis), I realized that 'here we go again'. I am again in this frustrating process of looking for a job. It will be very hard given the circumstances. I will suffer again. But in this case there will be no happy end. Even if I find a suitable job that fits my profile I will not be satisfied because this job is not something I am excited about or I want to do later. Don't you think it is really sick? Getting frustrated while looking for a job that you know it will not make you enjoy that and thus being later frustrated again once you start the work you even do not like? It is like being upset because you cannot have the thing that you not only do not need but even do not like. I felt like this last week. And it just got me very sad when I realized how fucked up that was...

I believe it is the first time in my life that I have such a multidimensional dilemma. There is so many options, possibilities and sets of solutions. So many questions and so few answers. And it is not the situation I deal with well. I need to have if not the full answers then at least clear options of the future. Even though I am not entirely sure what I will choose I need to have some paths I will later follow. I need to have a plan that will lead me there and once executed will make me achieve it. This is not the case right now. Plans change. Options come and go. No stability, no good road to follow. I know I should go after the voice of my heart. But I should not mute the voice of my bank account, health insurance and pension fund either. And both of them seem to say different things, don't they? Unless I do not hear well or I misinterpret them.

I am thinking a lot and I cannot stop that whatsoever. I am analyzing, asking questions, investigating, fitting different options, talking to people, attempting to learn from their mistakes and not to do mine anymore, creating different scenarios, calculating financial projections. And this drives me insane. It drives me crazy on a bumpy and rocky road with many ups and downs. It does not seem I can see the end of the road from here where I am now. But I know it does not mean the end is not somewhere there. I know this road a bit. I went through it a few consecutive years in the past. It always took slightly different turns but it would always end. And it was a good end. A happy end.

The end... (a happy one)

The truth is out there

One of the most amazing thing about having great friends in different locations all over the world is that they also have a lot of great friends in other locations all over the world. It often works out to have them shared with you. It happened to me a few times.

In December last year, I was introduced to the mother of my American-British-Belgian friend Noellie who lives in Morocco. Noellie's British mom, Jennifer, lives between Mozambique and Brussels. She is a great person who thanks to her skills, education and her two husbands - first the American working for CIA and the second Belgian working as UNDP Ambassador - managed to live her life all over the world - mostly in Africa. Although she is forty-something years more experienced than me and we are different we managed to find the common language and a lot of things that make us alike.

She was born in a loving and caring family somewhere in the countryside or suburbs deep in Wales. She spent her twenty-three years over there. Although her life was decent and good she always wondered how come she was born in that boring environment where everything was predictable, not interesting and simply dull. She did not feel she really belonged there. She even said that the stork bringing her to this world must have confused the directions and instead of ending up in some exotic destination it carried her to boring and predictable Britain. At the age of twenty-four she decided to leave the UK for good and she has not lived there permanently ever since.

I guess I can totally say my story is (or will be) pretty much similar. I was born in a decent family in this hardly exciting or interesting part of Poland. I was always excited about being abroad or at least in a different city - far from my hometown. Although I love my family I have been always wondering how it is possible that I am so different from most of the members of them. Where did I get my dreams, values and desires from? It does not look like it is genetics (no no I am not adopted - the physical resemblance is too obvious) and I do not know whether this is an example of someone else from real life or from TV.

The fact is that at the age of twenty-three I left my homeland and decided to live abroad. Back then it was just temporarily for one year but I guess that subconsciously I knew I would never return for good.

So far this is really great and despite my occasional outbreaks of neurotic nature I am loving it.

As I was told last night - it is never going to be perfect but most of the times it will be better than anything else.

land down under (aka. Southern Turkey)

Having come to Istanbul for the third time in my life (and counting) I knew I could not stay only in the city for the whole 9 days. So with my habibi last Sunday morning, we decided to have a look at the flights to various destinations around the country. God bless Onur Air airlines. We found a 50 EUR per person, all included return ticket to Antalya in Southern Turkey and a few minutes later we booked the trip for Monday-Wednesday. A few minutes later I asked 'so where actually is it that we are going to?' Although I travel by planes a lot I have never managed to find that cheap flight just one day before its departure. The fact that it was the low season helped a lot.

We woke up Monday morning at 5.30 AM (for me it rather felt like the middle of the night) and went to Atatürk airport. Two trams, one flight, two buses and one minibus later we were enjoying the noon sun of Olympos - a small village by the Mediterranean where you can admire the old ruins of an ancient Roman city. Beautifully located by a stream, surrounded by the mountains on the West and the sea on the East it looks like a paradise. We explored the ruins, climbed the hills picturesquely overlooking the valley, the mountains, the beaches and the sea. Simply amazing. People were extremely nice and generous. We took a tree house as our hotel room and once when we realized that it was a bad idea to sleep in the freezing cold of the night and that the light did not work we were given a nice room with TV and bathroom. No extra costs. The next day we walked to the neighboring village of Çıralı and stayed in a hotel there. The price was pretty low and it included dinner and breakfast. Our breakfast was amazing - delicious eggs, tomatoes, cucumbers, bread, cheeses. We enjoyed that in the warmth of a morning sun while sitting at table on the beach and admiring the snowy peaks of the mountains and the turquoise blue of the Mediterranean. It was like a dream. The last night, we went to the forest of Chimaira where in the middle of a meadow located on the hills of the wood we could discover a never-extinguishing fires that apparently have been burning there for centuries. As it was a cold middle of the night and we were tired after walking in complete darkness through the hills of a forest, we laid down by the fire and fell asleep for a few minutes .

The last day, in order not to miss the plane from Antalya back to Istanbul we had to hitch-hike until the highway to Antalya to later catch a minibus to the city. We were given a ride by two guys driving a tractor and since there were no more free seats they carried us on the trailer. Getting a lift on a trailer driving through a gorgeous valley surrounded by the mountains? I cannot imagine a better adventure. After a quarter on the trailer, then another car, an hour on the minibus and twenty minutes on the urban bus we were in the downtown Antalya. We could not believe how beautiful the historical centre was. The ancient Roman walls and the old Turkish wooden houses mixed together and tightly packed between the narrow streets of the downtown - different centuries or even millenniums, two pretty far from each other cultures but one perfectly filling another. The quartier was situated on the hills just by the sea and one could see the mountains in the distance. We found an open air café near a garden - the memories of a similar place in Rabat (unforgettable les Oudayas) came in a flash. We wished we could stay there forever. We took advantages of the views and the ambiance as long as we could and later we grabbed a cab that drove us off to the airport.

We were back in Istanbul. I still keep insisting on the fact the city is rather ugly. But the country is definitely fabulous. It is magical.

in the ‘World’s Hippest City’

Here I am again, in -according to Lonely Planet and others but definitely not me- the World's Hippest City on the frontier of many different cultures, in the former capital of former empires, in the commercial and cultural center of the country, in the city built hundreds years ago and larger and more populated than Moscow or London, the only metropolis located on two continents - Istanbul.

And I am not really excited or astonished by the city. Ok, it has the great monuments like the Blue Mosque, the Grand Bazzare, Aya Sophia etc but still I find the rest of the city ugly. The architecture is a mix of old buildings from different centuries and a lot of 'once-upon-a-time new', concrete'n'glass'n'steel, shabby buildings mostly from the second half of the twentieth century. A mix I truly hate and that reminds me of what communism did to Poland and how it made cities like Warsaw, Gdansk or Lodz ugly.

I went to Istanbul for the first time in summer 2007 and back then I did not feel the vibe of the city. Maybe because I was coming from Morocco with whom I had fallen in love by that time. Luckily, there were places like the picturesque Princess Islands that made up for the rest of the huge metropolis. And I am sure that there are places I have not discovered yet and that I will surely fall in love with.

So clearly in my 'people versus places' never-ending dillemma Istanbul is losing as 'a place'. The people part makes up for it and it is not only about the hospitality and the politeness of the locals (which is for me considerably better than i.e. in Morocco).

Last night, we went for two house parties thrown by two different expats living in Istanbul and working as English teachers. I felt as if I were at home. Dozens of interesting individuals, mostly English native speakers, a few Europeans and some Turkish who traveled around the world or lived abroad and all ended up in Turkey. People for whom careers or money are not the supreme values. People who love traveling around the world and being more than some tourists. People who love learning languages, meeting new people, discovering new cultures and sites. People who like enjoying their lives, challenging it and who are sometimes slightly neurotic. People like me. Yesterday Istanbul -the city I am not too excited about- gave me it all and made me very happy. After a few glasses of unbeatable red and several people I had the pleasure to talk to, walking down the stairs of an old, funky, dark and spooky building on the last floor of which my friend's apartment with a magnificient view over the city is located, I praised my life, people in it, travels and all I love and happen to have.

Does it then deserve the ‘World’s Hippest City’ title?

happiness is not only a destination, it is a journey...

Yes, I have been really upset recently. Too many confusions and thoughts on the future, two not really good weekends and boom! I am in a weirdly bad mood.

But hamdullah! (thanks God!) I still have the power to drive myself out of this shitty road. A few phrases from good friends or from ‘The Secret’, a few thoughts on who I am, what I have, where I live and travel and most of all whom I have in my life and right away it makes the view on my life and this world much more positive.

Life is great! Do not be afraid of taking certain decisions, especially those ones that you think will make you happy. Even if you are afraid of taking them. It is better to risk than to regret. The future is unpredictable and certain events are inevitable.

You do not need to know all the answers. Things around you change constantly and the ones that are unattainable now will not necessarily be this way later as time goes by. A lot of answers will come up themselves in the right time and they will be the good answers.

If you had a lot of successes by now why shouldn’t you have more of them later? It is not only about the luck but also about who you are, how you behave, what you do or who you are with. No matter where you are and what job you do you will always be you. Prepare a short plan but do not try to answer all your doubts. You will achieve what you want.

Truman sleeps

So here I am - almost 25 years old, sitting at the office of a well-known and world-wide recognized company, starting great career and earning good money while the storms of financial crisis destroy the reality around, taking advantages of the health insurance and the retirement plan, having experienced life in various destinations, being able to travel a lot, go out, socialize with people, not to forget - being in a great relationship, living an international life, having many friends all over the world and perspectives of living where I want to ...

The world is mine then, isn't it?

So why do I feel it is not mine? Why am I depressed and neurotic? Why do I feel that the financial crisis has transformed and is taking over me? One day I am happy with all I have and feel blessed the other day (like today) I curse it all? The job that, I do not think, is for me, the other job that, I think, is for me but I do not know what it is and whether I will be able to find it, the relations I am not sure will survive the distance, the will to live in different countries that, I am afraid, will destabilise and ruin my life and the will to stay in one place and settle down that, I am afraid, will kill me too. Recently, I do not have even willingness to try to figure things out and be strong to strive for what I want (what is it actually?). I fought persistently to achieve what I have just achieved and now I even do not know whether this is something what I want. Maybe I believed I needed that but 'what one wants is not necessarily what one needs...'

Am I just unable to appreciate what I have or really what I have is shit and I should change it for something better? Did all those years I fight for what I wanted without realizing it was something that I did not really need? Do I just have a bad day, bad week, bad year or maybe I simply manage my life badly? Do I make myself unhappy with the wrong choices or with not being able to appreciate the good choices and the great achievements.

This is so confusing... I need a good film.

Paris, Paris

Last weekend was just supposed to be a normal weekend in Brussels. No plans, no expectations. I was actually thinking of spending it to work on my thesis a bit, maybe cleaning (finally!) my room or doing some other boring stuff. I was thinking of spending February only in Belgium.

It did not work out. My boring plans were replaced by something way more exciting - Paris.

I was eating and getting ready (in the same time) for the ritual Thursday party at Havana when I got a call from Carolina, my Italian-Parisian friend recently living in Morocco but being in Paris for a few weeks. She was planning to see me in Brussels but eventually could not make it. So she invited me to Paris for the weekend. She said she would call me back on the next day to get the final decision from me. I had already known what I wanted to do but it remained unsaid. We spoke the next day and I said I would come over in the evening by car. She said 'by car? You're gonna be exhausted after driving for at least four hours' and I replied 'but it's cheaper than taking the exorbitantly expensive TGV and moreover I did the highway a few times and it's ok'. But she would not listen to me and decided to sponsor my trip by train as according to her 'she would pay the same amount if she decided to come to see me in Brussels'. Well, I agreed although I felt weird to let her pay that much...

After our conversation I went straight to the website of TGV and tried to book the train for the evening. For some reason I could not do that. There was an error popping up when I wanted to get the ticket for the train that was leaving three hours later. I was furious. I found their call-centre number and dialed it immediately. As usual a machine answered the phone and after annoying seconds (seemingly ages) of pushing some random button numbers I managed to be put through to a human being. I explained her the problem and she said she would book it for me. I was expecting to pay for the ticket at the train station but she asked me to give her my credit card number. I did that. It only later occurred to me it was not very smart but there was no time to waste. Luckily for me, it was my Polish bank account and it is always almost empty. I rushed home, packed, had a shower and watched one episode of SATC (to calm myself down). I left home at around seven PM, took metro, took the train (only one hour and twenty-two minutes!), took another metro and voilà! - I was at my friends place. I could not imagine that it can be so fast, simple (and expensive). When I arrived I had a dinner with Carolina, her boyfriend Philippe, his family and some more friends. It was nice but also hard for me to follow all the conversations in French.

The next day we all went out for a dinner to some of their friends. It was an uncommon experience. The dinner was hosted by a forty-something, devoted Catholic woman who wanted to celebrate the first free choice in her life - being able to decide what to do with her professional life without considering what others think or suggest which had normally been the case. I was very surprised that that warm and pretty extrovert person took her first step being twice older than me. The other guests included a priest (a former architect), a painter and a gospel singer in one and some other decent Catholic people. The dinner included a few hilarious moments e.g. the priest asking the singer to sing a prayer song just before eating. She started but she forgot the lyrics in the middle so we did not finish that. There was also a lot of talk on different saints, canonizations and beatifications. I could not stop laughing when Carolina's atheist boyfriend Philippe was asked some question and not wanting to be rude he just started replying something with a face expression showing a mixture of confusions and forced but polite understanding. Although the dinner included totally different personalities and people living different lives there was no clash but rather mutual understanding and respect. It was a great feeling to dive into that kind of uncommon to me and unknown reality.

On Sunday, the last day I got the chance to meet up with an old friend (a Moroccan guy I know from Rabat who lives now in Paris), then wander a bit around La Defense, have a drink at Carolina's and Philippe's friends' who just moved into a new loft outside Paris in Saint Denis and then spend some time just with her talking and catching up. Then, one metro, one train and another metro (two hours in total) later I was back in Brussels.

Another trip to Paris on the last weekend of March! :)

changing vs. fighting

The challenges are a daily part of our lives. The problems show up and disappear. Sometimes they get settled themselves and sometimes we need to work hard to solve them. However, sometimes they are inseparable parts of our lives for a longer period. Sometimes they keep staying in our lives and no signs of them leaving us – problems inside the family, with a job or in a relationship. But what do we do then? Do we fight them? Do we try to improve the situation? Do we try to change the others? Do we try to change ourselves? Are we change-driven or are we resistant? I admire those people who embrace change and try to work things out themselves. They are not afraid of doing risky steps in order to achieve things and ameliorate their lives. I think that sooner or later they always succeed and get what they want. But there are different ways of implementing a change. We can fight strong to change something into a better thing or we can simply dispose of it from our lives. Both ways are surely better than doing nothing but which one of them is better when you compare them between themselves?

To make it clearer I will give you an example:
You are in a relationship - it is going very bad but there are some good aspects and days too.
You have a job that you do not necessarily like but has a lot of positive sides too.

How do you know when you should keep fighting for your relationship and struggle to start liking your job and when you should just give up your job or break up with your partner? When is the moment that there is no point in fighting and the only way you can win is by giving up? How can you see the boundary between the two? Is there any way you actually can know it?

I know it is good to change things in your life by removing them when you are not comfortable with them. But don't we go too far when disposing of them instead of trying to fight and change them for better? Isn't it like continuous running away instead of actually facing and challenging yourselves and the things we want to amend?

When should we stop struggling for things, get them over with and go for the new opportunities? Or when shouldn't we give them up but fight for them?

Thursday night fever

Thursday night out is almost like the Sunday service. You feel bad and disturbed when you miss it (well, at least I do!). That is the end of the similarities. When you go to the church you usually do not care at all which one to choose and if you go to any of them you will feel fulfilled. It is not the same with Thursday nights out. You have too many options to choose from and even if you decide on one you will always miss not going for another one. You do not have the feeling of fulfillment.

Havana – a standard Thursday evening / night. There is the ‘Happy hour’ until 8 PM, nice ambiance, good and cozy atmosphere and the fabulous expats all around you. I am lucky to be known by many members of the staff who are responsible for the Thursday after work concept there. Until some time ago they always asked to show the friend card once you are at the door in order to find your name on the guest list and make sure you are ‘a friend’. Some Thursday a few weeks ago I entered and was struggling to find my wallet in the pockets. Before I manage to get it I was already said ‘you are Kamil, right?’ And since then I have no problems with being ‘identified’ by the staff.

Last Thursday, we actually tried to have it all. Verena and I went out to Havana. The party was already starting to kick off and everything was as usual – good music, a mix of interesting people and nice atmosphere. Then Ronny showed up (our dear Ronny – a funny guy whose sense of humor makes me laugh to death). The three of us had a conversation with the manager of Havana after work concept. He was telling us a lot of plans and ideas of what kind of events to organize in order to attract people. Then Ronny shot ‘maybe think of something like the Eyes Wide Shut party?’ I burst with laughing. The manager did not get that. He is a nice guy but he just does not understand our sense of humor. A few weeks ago, a lot of people I know (including me) was invited to join a facebook group called ‘Eyes Wide Shut’. The mysterious creator of the group keeps sending messages about the upcoming party. If you do not understand what I mean, just watch the Kubrick’s movie.

After a while, we decided to break with tradition and tried going to Mirano – an old but still fancy, great and widely known club in Brussels – a kind of a club who plays being hard-to-get. Soon, we were at the door. Although the club did play hard to get, we managed to enter. One thing I love it for is the interior design and the configuration of all the rooms, bars, dancing places, staircases etc. It is pretty spacious, has a few bars in different places and several floors. It actually used to be a theater before. It is not as cozy as Havana though but has its own unique atmosphere that makes up for it. At some point we were dancing in the middle when I suddenly felt I was about to fall on a guy next to me. I managed not to lose the balance and then looked around to see whether people laughed at me or thought I was so drunk (and I wasn’t… that time). Everything around me was spinning so you might think that I was drunk. But what in fact happened was that suddenly the huge dance floor in the middle started spinning around. That is why I almost fell. The dance floor was a huge circle and it started moving. For most of the rest of the night we were literally spinning around on a literally spinning dance floor.

Last night, we also went out to Havana. Although Verena left Brussels for good last Sunday and moved to Maastricht, the Netherlands where she started her masters, she came back for this one Thursday night just to be in Havana. Yesterday, everyone was there – all of my fabulous friends and party-mates. While we were dancing to the music of the cool DJ and the twin brothers playing drums and sax I thought to myself – how many things about Brussels will I miss when I leave the city? Great people I have met, the places I have discovered, the conditions of my work here, the convenience of the life, the proximity of other European cities like Paris or London – quite a long list, isn’t it? Once I am gone from here will I start missing it as much as I miss Morocco? Will I be extremely nostalgic and wishing to be back as often as I can? Or most importantly – will I want to move back here?

There are many similarities between my life in the Kingdom of Morocco and in the Kingdom of Belgium. Both countries provided me with the great lives, some great places to go out, many great ways of spending my time but as well with the moments when I was pissed off, furious or simply cursed it and wanted to be far away. I am going to be the same person anywhere I will live. I will eventually meet the same kind of people and do the same things. I will enjoy it the same way and I will hate it the same way.

I start to think that it is not about Morocco or about Belgium or about any other place in the world – it is in fact about me.

traveling somewhere between 90s and 21st century

Last week I went to Poland. Of course there was some drama involved. This time not because of the sole fact of going to Poland but rather because of the reason of going there – my exams. Just a quick update – I am still technically a student in Poland and I should attend the classes of my fifth year but as you know I work in Belgium. By October, I had set all my exams and got all the necessary agreements enabling me to work abroad and study in Poland. Nevertheless, I had the same obligations like students in Poland – passing exams like everyone else (or even worse – passing some additional exams due to my permanent absence). Because of all of that I was pretty stressed before going to Poland and not sure whether I would pass them and whether the decision not to finish my studies in a ‘traditional’ way was right.


The fact of being a student in Poland and especially feeling like one right after arriving there made me feel as if I had travelled to the past. There were more signs of the past – being at home again and living with my parents, meeting up with some people deep, deep from my childhood or teenage hood or even traveling by bus from my home town to Sopot where I study. A few times I listened to people talking on the buses or trains and realized I lived and worked in a different reality and I had totally different values in my life – they were more into settling down, living in one place, doing the same job or not going out and socializing too often which was also the case for many of my friends back in Poland. I often noticed how frustrated they were with their jobs and they usually didn’t enjoy working with their colleagues. I would have serious troubles in readjusting to Polish reality if I had to move back to my country. This time I did not have any significant cultural shocks... or maybe I did? - isn't what I am describing above a cultural shock? For sure, I didn't feel annoyed because I had to stay there for one week only and I rather felt like a tourist than an inhabitant or a resident (in this case, feeling like a tourist was not that bad). I knew I would head back to my current life in Brussels within a few days. And so it happened. Before that, I passed my exams, I caught up with a lot of old friends (time goes by but people stay), spent some time with my family and due to the fact of staying at my parents’ place (and some other factors too) I even managed to save some money.

All in all, it was a bit stressful trip but all that I planned was achieved (including a bit of partying and meeting up with people). It was much more ‘peaceful’ trip than last summer and I was more reconciled with the country than the last time which was great. I am happy I had quite good relationship with Poland. And I think it is going to be even better once I am done with my uni for good and no trip will ever be associated with the scary vision of exams period.


And furthermore, who says that trips back to past are bad?!

what season is that?

Toto, I don't think we are in the good season anymore.

Yes, I have the feeling that good season got a bit swept away. At least for this few weeks of January. It should be back as soon as I [successfully] deal with my university (and I do hope it happens before 24 January and please, keep your fingers crossed for me). Bad mood, not so much socializing, the must of studying, a lot of confusions what to do with my work life...

Too many questions, too few answers...

Yesterday, I actually did go out with Verena. We went to this chic hotel for an event called 'Fashion and Cars'. As much as I like pretentious and arrogant people, this was way too much for me. It was too snobby. People posing to pics as if they were movie stars (maybe they were?), exorbitant prices (I called it 'unhappy hour' or 'miserable hour' when you pay for two and get one), bad service or no cloakroom (!). But the most obnoxious thing was when I saw this blond, silly-looking girl with a small dog (of the ratter breed) under her arm. She would not let the poor creature from her hands even for a while. She would walk around the place all the time with the dog. And the animal was dressed better than some of the people there.

The event was called 'Fashion and Cars' - there was no sign of cars there unfortunately. And the fashion show was highly disappointing too. Yes, there were some cute models and nice clothes. However, there was even no catwalk. The models were walking in a colouir/through the door from the lobby to the resto where most of the people were standing. The entrance was blocked by the show so other people found it hard to leave or get inside. However, some of them did that interrupting 'the show' and then you could not actually tell who was the model and who was not. Oh Brussels... sometimes so exciting but sometimes so embarassing...

Luckily, I was there with Verena and then our two party mates showed up. They are all smart and funny so we had a lot of laugh commenting on the event and making fun mixing it with sarcastic jokes. It was rather a comedy event that fashion and cars show.

At least there was fun. Because fun is important...

the law of 'disattraction'

Sorry, for not having been here recently. Just before Christmas I had Ludwika coming for 2 days from Spain and later my habibi came over to spend Christmas and New Year's Eve with me. It was a great period. 1.5 a week off, hanging out in Brussels, Bruges, Antwerp and a great 3-day-trip to Paris. Meeting up with some great friends, having dinners, joggings, great NY's Eve party. Simply amazing time.

And then New Year came and along with it habibi left, the atmosphere disappeared, my flat became very quiet, the amazing light and sound show from Grand Place in Brussels was finsihed, streets got empty and it all just got very sad and dissapointing. Does it always have to be like this in the first days of New Years? After all, it's a New Year and we all should start it positively with right approach and right feelings. Apparently, it does not work for me like this.

I believe the most crucial factor that influenced me and my bad mood in the first days of the year was the fact that I had to start studying for my exams. To those that forgot (including me I suppose) I am still a student even though I have a full time job in Brussels. I am on my fifth year. My thesis is already written but I just have to review and correct it and moreover I have some few exams to pass. The projected graduation date should be somewhere around June and please, kick me hard if it is not going to be the case. All of the sudden, after successful more than three months of explaining to all of my professors I would not be attending the classes and fixing the dates and conditions of my exams, I got scared. The last time I went to a class was in May 2007. And now after almost 2 years I need to write exams. I lost the habitude, I lost the feeling of being a student (had I ever had it before?) - I exchanged the current semester of studies into one week of exams preceded by just a few days of studying. I just want to get it over with. Rationally speaking (and this is also what everyone keeps telling me), I should not have any problems with my exams within these few days. So why do I get scared? Why did I panic? Why don't I want to go to Poland?

And we reach here another interesting point. Again, I am going to Poland (17-24 January 2009) in some weird and unpleasent circumstances. Not only my studies but also some weird situation with my family. It is the second time I go to Poland since I do not live there permanently and it is going to be bizarre again. Last time I went there, it was when I left Morocco and you all heard enough of that so I will not repeat it here. One more time, because of all those negative conditions I do not feel comfortable with going to my own country. I wish I could be after this trip now. I associate all my visits to Poland with dealing with this strange stuff and thus I keep atributing it to my country which does no good to my relationship with Poland.

I do not want to go there. Will I always feel like this? Or is it just now? Maybe once I am done with my studies I will be able to just go there, relax, catch up with family and friends? I do hope so.

They say that once you travel a lot abroad and then come back to country you should realize that there is no better place to live than your Motherland. Shame to admit but it was different for me. I had never before [consciously] found Poland ugly or unpleasent to live. I had never wanted to live abroad permanently. Just before I went to Morocco I initially planned to return to Poland and live there for good. Once I got outside the country I liked living abroad so much that I believe I will never feel like returning. And that is acceptable - but why do I have to dislike it so strongly? Because of all the negative aspects that I will have there soon or had when coming back from Morocco (dealing with studies after fabulous year of living abroad, some health problems I had, a death of a close member of family, living back with parents and having shitty and frustrating job, lack of international aspects etc)?

Or maybe - and even though it is hard to admit that I will do it - because there is not much things (and people?) there that I need to have in my life... at least on a regular basis. I hope it is not the right answer...