Disappointment

About a month ago I was contacted by a producer of a popular American television series who reads this blog and was apparently intrigued by my ‘story’. I was invited to send a written account of my search for a home in Morocco along with a video. The program is about Americans house hunting abroad. At first I tried to dissuade the producer, saying I didn’t actually hunt for my house. I really couldn’t see how I fit in with the premise of the show. In fact, I had bought my house sight unseen. There was no hunt per se. But this was not perceived as a problem and I was encouraged to proceed with the process.

So, I wrote my account and scrambled around for a video camera. I borrowed said camera but had to purchase a cartridge for it and some batteries. Then, with the help of some friends, a video was prepared. It was incredibly amateur and I had a great deal of difficulty making my camera-shy husband act naturally while being filmed. In point of fact, his effervescent personality never did come across on film. And at first, I almost entirely cut him out of the scenes as he couldn’t be heard and kept his head down out of shyness. Ultimately, I relied on my own innate theatricality to carry the film.

We didn’t have the appropriate cable to attach the camera to computer so we had to find someone in the medina that could transfer the video onto my computer so I could email it. Then I spent hours sitting in Café Clock uploading the video. So with a little bit of time and money and a good deal of perseverance, I completed the task.

Miraculously, the producer ‘loved’ the video. But they wanted more footage … of my husband.

So the entire process was repeated (and not without a good deal of cajoling on my part) and we waited for word on the decision, telling ourselves it was destiny that would decide for us.

Finally, word came that the producer was ‘going to pass’ on my story.

While I never fully allowed myself to believe this would actually transpire, I did allow myself to briefly imagine the fun of filming in the medina and the excitement of the proffered trip to the U.S. for a day of studio filming. And I confess I did allow myself to fervently wish for the all important visa that would be granted to my husband for the trip. I also saw this as a great opportunity to tell others about Fes and encourage them to visit or purchase their own home here. I rather naively saw myself as a kind of ambassador for Fes. And last, but not least, I thought it would be a great opportunity for my family and friends to see a bit about my life here in Morocco.

But none of this will happen now. As quickly as the opportunity arose, it faded away. Easy come, easy go, I guess.

But in spite of my underlying doubt about the actuality of my being on national television, what I am left with -- having allowed myself to dream a bit -- is a sense of disappointment. I’ve found myself in a bit of a funk these past few days. And I wonder, if I do believe in destiny (and I do), then this ‘exercise’ was for some purpose. It just remains to be seen just what that was all about!