I want to tell you a story that has been happenening since 1998, but I will make it very brief. I want you to understand one thing.
I met Gosia thanks to my blog, a kind woman from Poland. Born in 1962. She asked me a couple of questions about my life here, I could feel the nostalgia in her email. We spoke from time to time, we even met when I was in Poland.
Morocco fascinated her.
In 1998 she started working in an NGO in Poland, where she helped to change the way people perceive and treat pregnant women. She loved this job and during 19 years when she was working there, she managed to change a lot and make lives of many women better.
Yet, she decided to quit.
I asked her why she chose Morocco, what made it so special.
“One day, when I came back to work, after my holiday in Morocco, I did not feel the same passion as I usually felt about my work. As if this passionate fire was no longer there. I understood I no longer belonged here, even though everything was ok. I was crying during my first trip to Morocco. I loved the feel of Moroccan air, I loved to watch the mountains while in the taxi, I loved to see the argan and olive trees and the people waiting for the next bus”
Gosia doesn’t speak French. She doesn’t speak English. She is a 55-year-old mother of a mature son, a solo female traveler.
It took her 2 or 3 years to take that decision. Quit the stable job, leave everything behind and discover the world. She did it. A couple of weeks ago she left her workplace, left her city, and moved to Morocco, without knowing foreign languages, being a single, solo woman. Some people did not support her decision. A single woman, moving to Morocco in her fifties, not knowing the language.
I asked her what does her son think about her decision?
“he suports me. When am I going to do that if not now?”
-she laughs and says
It’s never too late to start something, to pursue your dreams.