7 Nights in Maroc: Day 1

Inspired by Diane Johnson's Lulu in Marrakech, and the fact that I won't be doing any new traveling this summer, I decided to dig out the journal that I kept during my trip to Morocco in 2007. Since it was such a once-in-a-lifetime experience for me, I did my best to record every moment, and I'd like to share that with you now.

Morocco is everything I imagined it would be! I want to move here. I want to marry a Moroccan and live in Morocco and have Moroccan babies. I feel so lucky to be here!

In some ways, I feel as though I'm somewhere completely foreign, yet I also feel this intense sense of familiarity. I have to keep reminding myself that the scenes in front of me are real, and not from Google image searches or one of my books or movies. I can't decide whether or not it's better to know everything about a country before you go there, or not. I've been preparing for this trip my whole life. I gained a feeling of comfort with the culture because of that, but I think I lost the twinge of excitement I get when I arrive somewhere and have no idea where I am.

Anyway, I was most looking forward to hearing the call to prayer. I've read about how it echoes through the city and can be loud enough to wake you in the early hours of the morning. It's not that loud, unfortunately! (Disappointment.) But, beautiful nonetheless. Is it strange to think of it from the perspective of the people who live here, as akin to the church bells on campus back home. Not by meaning, but in that it marks the passage of time and makes one feel comforted.

I keep forgetting I'm in a developing country. Our house is so clean and beautiful and the people on the streets are wonderfully friendly--even the men. I can't imagine any of the things reported by the girls in the previous session--cat calls, getting groped in the souk. In Spain, yes, but here? I can't see it.

Today, we met a wonderful man named Mohammed who told us that "Morocco is our country now," as he showed us around Asilah.




He was so friendly when he met our group, sitting in the sun outside the restaurant where he works, chugging a can of Coke Light. In just a few hours, I developed a most inappropriate crush on him. After he left, Allen explained that every time he brings a group through Asilah, he hires Mohammed to show them around for a few hours, and that, over the years, he's grown to see Mohammed as an adopted son. He said that Mohammed would have been embarrassed to admit that he lives in the shantytowns on the outskirts of Asilah, which is so common here. When Allen explained this, I can't really describe how I felt as being anything other than "final," as though I had just gotten the answer to everything I'd been asking myself all day. Yes, I do feel like a foreigner here; no, I will never see Mohammed again--we're not going to exchange email addresses and become pen pals. Coming to Morocco and meeting a wonderful local made me feel so integrated, like I could be a part of this--like I am a part of this. But, realizing in a split second that I am world's away from my new friend made me feel a thousand times more removed. I expect that is the nature of Morocco--it pulls you in and pushes you out simultaneously. I think there are many layers to life here that will begin to uncover themselves as time goes on, Inshallah.