We started last year at Whiteface Mountain in New York—Lake Placid. We visited the historic ice hockey rink in Lake Placid.

We were there with my nieces and went skiing the night before. This year has been amazing—our first year truly worldschooling. We began in Tangier, Morocco, for the month of February. Our house back home was still incomplete at that time; in fact, it wouldn’t be finished until we returned in May, when we finally cleaned it and moved in.

We chose Tangier, Morocco, because we had promised the children a taste of Europe without breaking the bank. Starting in Morocco seemed perfect. We signed up for a hub in March, in Mirlift (Western Sahara now occupied by Morocco). Our life-changing 36-hour bus journey from Tangiers to Dakhla was, let’s say, transformative. We saw a side of Morocco that shifted as we moved from the west into the occupied south, all the way to Dakhla and then further to West Africa—namely Dakar, Senegal. We finally got to see Africa. Africa!! Yay—more than just the Addis Ababa airport for my family. I can’t help but thank my father-in-law, who said, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” I often think about that. Thirty-six hours from Tangiers, then 12 hours to Nouakchott, Mauritania, and another 12 to Dakar, Senegal. Would I have done that alone? Maybe… maybe not. Entering Mauritania felt like stepping 100 years back in time: camels in the Western Sahara, the topography changing in Senegal, and confronting the reality of global interests and how the world order controls the Global South. That reality brought us sharply back to the present.

The Mirlift hub was a huge moment of growth for our family. We got our days back, with the three girls going to the hub to learn about Morocco, the ocean, and so much more. I worked on my book, which still hasn’t come out—hopefully this year. I’m also excited about a second book. We had Zara’s friend Selva visit from Colmar, France, and my in-laws visit from Richmond Hill. We capped that off with a 14-day trip through different parts of Morocco: Tafraoute, Aït Benhaddou, then Fez, ending in Casablanca. From there, we headed to Granada, Spain, for a week, which had an entirely different feel from, say, Senegal. People from Senegal were on the streets selling things, and they were quite amazed that we had been to see where they were from. We also met a runner named Tiffany Bronzeman, who nearly killed us with her 10K run in the mountains surrounding Granada. Our solace was a Mediterranean place called Jerusalem, which served the best shawarma. Interesting talks with the owner, too. He wanted to go back to Palestine. He said he was meeting women to marry, but they would run away when they found out he wanted to return and help his people. I feel a similar pull, having left Pakistan for better opportunities elsewhere. A country is made of its people, and I feel a sense of shame. But I’ve also decided that my journey is now headed back home.

From there, we drove down to Barcelona with a day in Valencia, ending up for a month in a suburb of Rome at Francisco’s peaceful farmhouse. Here, we were exposed to the Italian countryside, farmers’ markets, delicious food, and yummy gelato. We ventured to Sperlonga Beach, Florence, Tivoli, and other nearby places. We loved it and were sad to leave for the UK for two weeks. We had a one-week hub in London and then spent a week between Stubbington and Bradford. I was lucky to briefly see Hamid, my childhood friend, in Birmingham (I didn’t know it was the home of Cadbury!). We came back to Richmond Hill on June 27th, and our house was 90% done. We are lucky to have a superstar of a neighbor on the south side; honestly, if there’s anything about Canada I would ever miss, it’s him.

It was surreal sleeping in the new section of the house. It took, honestly, five years to build—one of the longest and hardest projects of my life. A heritage house, old, new… everything that could go wrong did go wrong. But it was done. Summer in Richmond Hill was straight out of a textbook: long summer days. We got a few camping trips in and enjoyed meeting friends and family. We didn’t stay too long, as we had to set up the house for Airbnb and leave for China…

One of the highlights this year was going portaging with my brother-in-law in Algonquin Park. It was truly beautiful and surreal being out in nature those days. Wide-open spaces—I guess that’s the beauty of Canada. Wide-open spaces, beautiful cold lakes, deep and mysterious lakes.

And finally, the day came when our China dream became a reality. We got our visas and ventured into the unknown. Earlier, I mentioned how I’d been to China maybe two dozen times, but I didn’t know squat about it. Like, nothing. These past two-plus months have taught me so much (albeit a drop in the ocean). It’s been wonderful being here, taking basic Chinese, and making new connections—all part of something special. Our middle child has expressed a desire to go back to in-person school, which makes me jittery, as that may bring us back to Richmond Hill. But I choose not to think about it too much, because right now we are in Shangri-La, Yunnan, in a teahouse overlooking a Buddhist monastery. I can’t begin to explain how grateful I feel for being here and experiencing all that we have this year. Here’s to more adventures next year.