Molta Merda: Lots of Shit
Molta merda... Translates to "lots of shit." It is a Catalan phrase that actually means good luck. The saying originated in the theater in the sixteenth century. Many people went to the theater in horse drawn carriages and if it was a good show they would stay long enough for their horses to take many shits. Lot's of shit happens, if you stay long enough. This week has been filled with shit for me and today I choosing to reflect on the good that comes from staying long enough in one place for shit to happen.
Everyone around me knows that I got my phone pic pocketed last week, it was an ultimate low for me but many don't know that morning before my mom surprised me with tickets for a two night stay in Paris, across the street from the Notre Dame Cathedral. I was filled with so much happiness and carefree energy, I was a very susceptible target for pic pocketing. I have been on edge since I lost my phone, I can feel my anxiety in my muscles. I feel as if people are looking at me in the streets. I have spent the last five days worrying that I will be a targeted again. I am working hard to put a guard up. I am growing strong relationships with the people around me and building my confidence back.
Today, I am missing home for the simplicity and security. Things here are different and this week nowhere feels like home, safe and familiar. I have been confronted this week with how much I do not know about the world I have put myself in. I have been talking steps to reacquaint myself in this foreign place and not let my loss of a cellular phone be a step backwards.
Yesterday I went to Montserrat, a monastery on top of a mountain in Catalonia, Spain. The top of the mountain is 4055 feet above the valley of Montserrat, I hiked to the very top. It took two hours and I lost all my thoughts of sadness with each step to the top. The peak felt like home, I had view that seemed to go to the edge of the world. Mountains looked small in the distant valleys. The air was crisp, cold and felt like a filter. I breathed deeply, my mind rested. I walked down the mountain alone. It was my first time on my own in months. I felt secure. When I reached the bottom I stopped for a traditional Catalan dessert of fresh goat cheese and honey from the mountain. I savored each bite, wishing the container was bottomless.
My days here are numbered, 25 days left and two more trips planned. I leave from Morocco on November 25th and return the 27th. Then I have two days in Spain and November 30th I leave for Paris. I am excited, nervous and incredibly grateful for this experience. There's still time for good shit to happen; Molta Merda.