Until we meet again

We say goodbye quickly in the center of Tagounite, Morocco, on March 14. My driver all ready has the car running to take me on my journey north. I take a quick look out over the eerie playground that only a few days ago had 350 kids laughing and attending a grand celebration of happiness of collaboration when we had the official opening of the Tanmirt Junior Playground. I promise myself to carry this memory as a remembrance of what I will continue after this storm.

Who knows when we will meet again? At that moment, it is just not possible to know when that will be or to even think about it. All I know in that moment, with two small packed bags, 5 L of water by my feet, that I must go. My health comes first and right now my whole body signals fatigue and tingling arms and legs. In the last months, I have learnt that this is the time I need new blood, a transfusion to give new fuel, new energy for my organs to function. The world’s borders closing by the hour and if I want to get to my country of residence, my doctors, and to my children, I must go.

I started packing up my desert life more than 10 days ago, ready to go at an hour’s notice if needed. Not really knowing if I would be returning home to Spain or to my family in Sweden and therefore packing for all eventualities. I also packed a bag if summer would be as planned in Essaouira later. That bag would come later but be packed as a silent promise that we would meet sooner rather than later. To pack bags is a big part of my chosen Nomadic lifestyle but never has it felt harder and so surreal. The feeling of a tsunami coming from a far but yet foggy as a summer morning mist in Sweden over open fields.

I lock the door to our recent finished rural home and hug my Moroccan family with tears rolling down my cheeks. Be safe, I say. I take mental pictures of every face, letting warm memories fill my heart instead of fear for the future and what lies ahead. At that moment, not knowing what will come here in the Saharan region, only praying that the heat will stop the virus and give respit to its people before other solutions appear for a vulnerable region, as in many places in Africa and in the developing world. In part, it feels like a betrayal sneaking out when danger comes and not taking anyone with me. I would not want to stay either to be a burden on the local healthcare system. At this given moment, I do not know that Spain will be hit with by hard the virus and on top of the world statistics only a few weeks later.

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