Two weeks from today, at 0630, I’ll be on a plane taking off from Portland International Airport. We’ll go to New York, then take a night flight to Paris, and finish with a 3 hour flight that lands in Casablanca, Morocco. Until then, I have to say goodbye to my family, say goodbye to my friends, sell my school books, pack-up my room, clean my room, change the light in my room, buy socks, buy slippers, buy more shirts, buy more pants, update my resume, clean all the clothes I’m bringing, pack them up, pack a backpack, clean the bathroom, move my bed into the basement room, move the basement bed into my room, check that I have everything, recheck, then get to the airport. Meanwhile, everyone’s telling me to have fun, don’t die, don’t get married, bring back a fez. Some of these people I’m never going to see again. We say we are, we say we’ll see each other at graduation, but you can tell in their voices and mine that we don’t believe we’ll have time then, either. Time moves too fast, except when it doesn’t.
My name is Will Aime, and I am one of a number of students going to Morocco as part of the Lewis & Clark Overseas programs. Pauls Toutonghi is leading the trip. I’ve taken two classes with him before, both of them creative writing classes. His wife, Peyton Marshall, and their twins, Phineas and Bellatrix, are coming too. One of the other students on the trip is Ryan Pasco, one of the first people I met when I got to college. This is now our last semester in college. I’ll talk more about them, and myself, soon, but for now, what’s important for this post is that in two weeks, at 0630, I’ll be on a plane taking off from Portland International Airport, going to Morocco.
The Arabic name for Morocco is al-Maghrib, which literally means “The West.” The most commonly spoken language is Darija, a dialect of Arabic. During my trip, I’ll be living in Marrakesh and Fes, but Morocco is also home to Casablanca and Tangier, probably the two more famous cities, and it’s capital is Rabat. Morocco sits on the north-west coast of Africa, just across the rock of Gibraltar from Spain. It is a predominantly Muslim country. It’s King is named Mohammad IV, and he is one of the last monarchs in the world with any real power. Morocco’s greatest mountain range is the Atlas Mountains. Marrakesh has wide and open streets, while Fes has narrow and windy streets that it is easy to get lost in. The merchants haggle. The currency is the dirham. The food is delicious. These are all the things I know about Morocco, and I know that I am not prepared. I know that I won’t ever be prepared, that to do this I need to simply take a breath and jump. In a way, I guess I’ve already done that. Now I’m waiting for the plunge, wondering if I should bother to hold my breath.
I plan on posting about once a week. Maybe. Anyways, keep reading, and you’ll learn more about what I’m doing, where I’m going, who I’m meeting, and how I’m feeling. Maybe sometime we’ll figure out the why. Hope you’re well. See you next week.