Marrakech: and an expat tale without seat belts

I was having one of those conversations.  The kind that goes like this: Weren't you nervous about moving so far away? How could you just leave home like that?  Weren't you worried it would be dangerous?  And what about your children?  I mean, you're not even citizens there......And afterall, it's not exactly like you were moving to FRANCE or .... [insert somewhere "civilized"]. 

Oh, I've had these conversations before.  The kind where I know that the person is covertly thinking....That woman's a little, well ..... CRAZY.  And then they make a cuckoo finger twirling motion near their ear when I'm not looking. 

But here's the thing:  No I wasn't worried.  Because you can look at the world in two ways. A place where you should always wear your seat belt.  Or a place where you shouldn't always wear your seat belt.  You can worry about the What Ifs. Or you can say I can deal with the What Ifs.   Because when you travel off the beaten path, bad stuff will happen (and it might be bad stuff that you have never even heard of before).  But good stuff will happen, too (and it's often extra good stuff that you could have never imagined).  *You see it's a law of nature -- the universe rewards you when you are brave.*

And after a while you get good, really good, at not wearing your seat belt.  So good that you choose not only not to wear one, but to ride on the running board of the car.  *You see it's another law of nature -- when you stick your head out, the wind blows though your hair. *

If you do, make sure to wave at everyone you pass by, even strangers.  They might think you're crazy.  But then again, maybe they'll wonder if they shouldn't just give it a whirl.