The presence of Kentucky

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Rescue crews pulled Robbie and Laura from the wreckage. They were both dead by the time they arrived at the hospital.
Shadow folded the newspaper up once more and slid it back across the table, toward Wednesday, who was gorging himself on a steak so bloody and so blue it might never have been introduced to a kitchen flame.
“Here. Take it back,” said Shadow.
Robbie had been driving. He must have been drunk, although the newspaper account said nothing about this. Shadow found himself imagining Laura’s face when she realized that Robbie was too drunk to drive. The scenario unfolded in Shadow’s mind, and there was nothing he could do to stop it: Laura shouting at Robbie — shouting at him to pull off the road, then the thud of the car against truck, and the steering wheel wrenching over...
...the car on the side of the road, broken glass glittering like ice and diamonds in the headlights, blood pooling in rubies on the road beside them. Two bodies being carried from the wreck, or laid neatly by the side of the road.
“Well?” asked Mr. Wednesday. He had finished his teak, devoured it like a starving man. Now he was munching the french fries, spearing them with his fork.
“You’re right,” said Shadow. “I don’t have a job.”

American Gods,
Neil Gaiman page 34

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Shadow washed his face with the rest room’s liquid soap, then the lathered his face and shaved. He cleaned his teeth. He wet his hair and combed it back. He still looked rough.
He wondered what Laura would say when she saw him, and then he remembered that Laura wouldn’t say anything ever again and he saw his face, in the mirror, tremble, but only for a moment.
He went out.

American Gods, Neil Gaiman, page 45
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It's difficult at times to be “so close, yet so far away.” Reading Neil Gaiman and the Tao Te Ching, listening to Eric Ruppel, O-zone, Hellogoodbye and Sufjan Stevens make Morocco feel like home. Or, rather, they make me feel fully at home, and content to be in Morocco. I do feel like I’m here; there is no feeling of “watching television” like I had in Turkey and Greece. I am no longer just an observer of the culture, but increasingly a participant. And as much as I am a full participant, I am fully pleased to be here. It is just at certain moments of the day when an image will pop into my mind, or a smell will waft toward my nose, or music will play, and my whole being is flooded with a desire to be near home. I dearly miss Clay and Marcie and Charlene; I miss being exactly who I am and being with them, exactly as they are. I watch my face tremble in the mirror, but only for a moment, and then I am back to Morocco. And back to the full realization that I can have them, in their fullness, with me at all times, if only I believe them here.
So, I allow this to be a verbose sigh of sorts. I am fine, I am content, I am learning, which makes me happy. But I miss the hugs, the laughter, and the presence of Kentucky.