Well I just ended my stay in Morocco, and it is truly indescribable. I don’t think that I can fully put into words how this country has affected me.
We left Spain on September 8th and the Captain arranged it so that instead of having a day in between ports, we would be able to arrive in Morocco the next day, giving us one more day to explore and experience.
The morning that we arrived in Morocco we were given a Cultural and Logistical Pre-port about the country we were about to step in to. They went over all of the important information, like how to dress—we were told that we need to make sure that we are conservative in our attire, (meaning shoulders and knees covered, and cleavage left to a minimum) or it would be considered disrespectful, and since Morocco is not one of the United States’ biggest fans we want to make sure not to piss them off. Then they told us about all of the media attention that the priest in Florida was getting for his plans to burn hundreds of Qur’ans on September 11th, and how there was a national alert for any Americans entering Muslim countries. I was extremely nervous to go out walking around, seeing as how I definitely don’t blend in with all of the locals, none of my friends do—we practically scream American. We decided that we were going to go explore anyways, and see what happened. We weren’t going to stay cooped up on the ship because of things that were out of our control. We just have to be aware of our surroundings.
My friends and I had nothing really planned for the day, since it was an extra day so we decided to go to the markets and see what it was like. We walked down the street and it was fine, just little cat calls from the locals, but we were prepared for that. What we were not prepared for was what came next...
We got to the market/souks and were looking around having a good time and seeing all that was offered. Amy and I had put our water bottles and some little things in my backpack and were taking turns wearing it. (We couldn’t hold our water bottles because since it was the ending of Ramadan it was considered rude since the Muslims were still fasting for that day). I had just passed the backpack to Amy and she put it on her back. A few minutes later the backpack is being pulled by a lady in the market. She is pulling it off of Amy’s shoulders like she is about to take it. I start to try to back her off and it is turning into complete chaos. Amy is freaked out and so is everyone else. The lady eventually backs off and then a man claiming to be her husband comes up behind to try to calm the situation. He said he was from New York so he knows how speak English. He claims that his wife was trying to show her to wear the backpack on her front instead of on her back so it wouldn’t be as easy to get pick-pocketed. That was what he claimed…it is just a matter of whether or not it was the truth. I guess we will never know.
We were a little shaken up about that little incident so we went back to the boat, ate some dinner, and decided that it would probably be better for the next day to maybe try to get on a tour so that we would be in a group, especially since the boys were all leaving us to go on a camel trek sponsored by Semester at Sea. We got up the next morning and were able to get on the guided tour around the city which was interesting and very informative…it just got to be very tiring because we were sitting on a bus for about four hours in the heat.
The next morning was a stressful one to say the least. Amy, Carly, Mackenzie, and I woke up early and got off of the boat to make our way to Marrakesh—where we would be taking part in an independent camel trek. We were able to get a taxi and got all the way to the train station and realized that we didn’t have our passports. (SAS told us that if we are leaving the port city or going over night somewhere we would need our passports). So we needed to take another taxi back to the ship to get our passports and then return to the station to make the train. We were able to do so…it just cost a lot in taxi fare, and to top it all off we were never asked for our passports while there. We took the train ride to Marrakesh and found a taxi to take us to our hostel. We were dropped off and needed to find our way through alley ways to get to the correct location. This young kid came up and offered directions, and ended up leading us to the hostel. We thought it would be nice to give him a little tip, so we gave him 5 dirham, which isn’t a lot, but we didn’t have a lot of money on us and we thought we were being nice…he didn’t see it that way. He was like “this isn’t enough—20dirham.” We were able to scram together to get 20 dirham but were taken aback by this. This is definitely something we weren’t used to at all.
The hostel was okay...nothing special. The owners were extremely nice, which made up for the not so nice bathrooms. True statement about Morocco: You should be prepared to carry around a roll of toilet paper with you at all times, because more often than not there will not be any in the bathrooms.
We spent the day walking around Marrakesh and found the markets, where we got some cute Moroccan pants and practiced our bargaining skills—my mom should be so proud.
Well it finally happened—I experienced my first batch of homesickness. I broke down for the first time this whole voyage. I was able to call and talk to my mom, who helped, and Amy also helped me through it—I definitely have the best friend in the whole world. I finally realized that it is ok for me to be a little homesick…I have such a close knit family—we talk to each other almost every day and it is not a bad thing for me to miss them. But I also made a realization—I am 21 years old and I left my home, my family, my friends, my job and am getting to travel around the world and see what people only dream of seeing in their lifetime. I am one of the luckiest girls in the world and am forever grateful for this opportunity, and yes it is definitely ok to miss everything that I have at home, but I will not let it interfere with everything that I have going on right now. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and I have to experience every minute of it.
So, the next morning we woke up bright and early to go to our camel trek. We got in the van and went on our way. It was told to us that it would be about a six hour van ride. After all of the stops (breakfast, lunch, and little stops along the way to get out and stretch or see some important landmark) it ended up being about eleven hours. We were all exhausted and hot, but then we got out of the van and there our camels were. They were all lying down and ready for us to get on. I found my camel and the nomads that were there to be our leaders helped me get up. Once we all got up on our camels, we were on our way. It was about an hour to an hour and a half to two hours until we reached our destination in the Sahara desert. The ride there was spent taking pictures of all of us on them, admiring the scenery around us...and of course naming our camels—I had Chesney (for some reason while riding, I just got this country feel, and it just fit), Amy had Toby, and Carly had Scar. We loved our camels, but what I loved more was once we got to our destination. We are in the Sahara desert, watching the sunset. It was amazing. The nomads brought us to the tents, and served us a three course meal involving soup with bread, Tangine, which is amazing! and melon for dessert. Everything tasted great—and that’s saying a lot because I am the world’s pickiest eater, ask anyone! Once dinner was complete, we brought our sleeping mats outside and lay under the stars. The nomads brought out their instruments to play some music for us…I was exhausted from the long day that we had and ended up falling asleep to the music. I woke up multiple times throughout the night and at one point the sky was lit up with stars…and then I saw a shooting star. I had never seen anything like that in my whole life and I will never forget it. It was magical.
We woke up the next morning and were greeted with the sunrise. We grabbed our blankets and walked up to a sand dune, sat down and just watched the sunrise. I had never seen anything like it. There are really no words to describe it.
Then we began our journey home. It was supposed to be about six hours. It turned into about fifteen!! This was, however including the ride from Marrakesh to Casablanca. We talked the drivers to our camel trek to drive us back to Casablanca, instead of to Marrakesh where we would need to take the train to Casablanca. The train is miserable, so we asked nicely and they were able to arrange it with their boss to get two vans to take us back. It was supposed to be a two and a half hour ride, but turned into a five hour ride. Our driver was in a 100kph zone and decided that he was going to go 60kph. There were snails passing us on the highway. I’m not complaining, but when you have already been in a van all day, and you are stuck in a van longer than expected, it makes you a little cranky. The only thing that made the ride worth it was the camels and sleeping under the stars.
We got back to the ship and it was like Christmas morning. We were all running to the ship…and I mean running. It was kind of hilarious.
All in all, Morocco was a completely different country than what I was expecting, but it affected me in ways I cannot even describe. Seeing the ways that the country is run, how the family interacts with one another, and just the poverty on the streets (or what seems like poverty) is such an eye opening sight that you can’t help but be affected by it.
No comments:
Post a Comment