Traveling Dangerously

I have a confession to make: I really really really REALLY want to live somewhere “dangerous”. You know, maybe somewhere that has a travel advisory on it, or anywhere that the average WASP wouldn’t be comfortable setting foot. I think it has more to do with the fact that I grew up with the most Wonderbread existence possible in a nearly all-white Minnesota high school next to the richest town in the state than a death wish, but who’s to say? All I do know is that after a while spent traveling in safe European countries, I’m ready for something a little more adventurous.

One place that’s stood out in my mind recently is Tangier, in Morocco. After talking about it with our Global Engagement Advisor (the stellar Mrs. Jaci Gandenberger), I haven’t been able to get it out of my head. I’ve always wanted to live in Morocco; I just never knew exactly where. Tangier sits right along the coast in the heart of where the Spanish once held Morocco. As a port city and as one of the less wealthy cities in Morocco, it’s been traded back and forth from civilization to civilization and picked up a little bit of each culture along the way. A huge amount of writers and artists have lived in Tangier at some point in their lives and the city is still an artistic hotspot today. That being said, it’s got its darker corners, which attracts me in an odd way. Tangier is so different from anywhere I’ve ever lived (looking at you, Norman), and I want so badly to see it for myself. Does it make me dumb to want to be in danger? I’ll leave that up to you to decide. As for me, I think it absolutely does mean I’m dumb, but that’s just fine with me. Someday I’ll see it for myself, but for now, I’ll just have to be content with my secret agent fantasies and dreams of danger.

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