Assalam Alykum! It has been three weeks since I have departed from Portland, Oregon to live in the beautiful city Marrakech. It has been brought to my attention that some members of the Lewis & Clark community fear we are not having a wonderful time here in Morocco due to our lack of blog posts. I cannot speak for everyone, but personally, this could not be any farther from the truth.
I am late to post my adventures on this blog because my time has been consumed by family affairs, Arabic classes, hiking excursions, wedding parties, camel rides, and eating–lots and lots of eating. I come home to my homestay each night exhausted from learning a foreign language, exhausted from eating, and exhausted from a sensory overload of this new place. And if I were to attempt to describe all the events, and adventures, and reflections, and frustrations, and experiences I have had, I would have to write a small novel–which just might happen anyways.
I would like to paint an image of what I have experienced here and think the best way to do this is to describe a few highlights from my trip thus far. The following are accounts and reflections of a few events here in Morocco. They in no way are a comprehensive depiction of my stay but give an overall essence of this incredible adventure.
Meeting the Family
What I was most anxious about prior to this trip was my experience with my host-family. Little did I know just how welcoming and loving they would be. My host father is named Mustafa and he is a renowned carpenter in Morocco. His work contains some of the most beautiful pieces of woodworking I have ever seen and he has been recognized by the King for his incredible craft. He is a happy, generous man that loves a good laugh and always goes out of his way to care for those around him. One day he came to the school just to bring me my waterbottle and Lily her chapstick.
Fatiha is our host-mother. She is a tender woman that cooks the most amazing food and is a fantastic teacher. She is someone you immediately feel comfortable around and loves to sing and dance in the kitchen.
Our two host-brothers are Ali and Omar–9 and 12. Ali has one of the loudest voices I have ever heard on a 9-year old and is always cracking jokes. He definitely is the life on any party. Ali makes the craziest faces and helps me out with my Arabic.
The culture around family in Morocco is extraordinary. There is a sense of pride in one’s family coupled with a strong priority to be with them. Family comes first. What is amazing is how fast we were welcomed into the family. We come home and are greeted with kisses on the cheek by everyone in the house–even the boys. Recently we visited Fatiha’s family and everyone greeted us with a million kisses as if they had loved us from long ago. The family dynamics here are amazing to observe but even more incredible to experience. I could not imagine being here without living in a homestay. Since family is such an integral component of Moroccan life, I feel honored to experience it first-hand.
The Wedding
As evidence of how easily we were welcomed into the family, Lily and I were invited to attend their neighbor’s wedding. Fatiha let us borrow some gorgeous clothes to wear. I sported a long black gown with gold embroidering. It was simple and elegant. Lily wore a yellow gown with white embroidering. It was uncanny how our outfits reflected our character and personality.
After we changed into our clothing, we hiked stair after stair to the roof of someone’s house in all of our heels. From the bottom we could hear loud Arabic music and as it got closer I got more and more excited. When we reached the top I was overwhelmed with music and color. The women wore keftans and gowns of every shade and hue. I saw lime greens and deep purples, royal blues and loud pinks, mellow oranges and loud reds. I was instantly struck by a sea of all women releasing their hair, flaunting their best jewelry, and catching up with one another.
We walked in on the bride posing for pictures in a stunning green gown. Shortly after she disappeared. I was told she would return again but not sure for how long. Suddenly, she was back in a staggering ivory dress intricately embellished with jewels. She was lifted high on a platform where people sang and danced around her as she spun round the room. The bride kept leaving and returning each time with a different gown–from green, to white, to blue, to pink. She posed for pictures with her henna lacing her fingers and watery eyes as she was about to start a new life in Egypt.
After, we all danced. This was a space where women could dance free of male onlookers and free of all cares. A few men were in the room such as the performers and what I assume were a few relatives but the place was almost entirely women–dancing and singing the night away.
I am thankful to have been invited to such an unique and intimate moment in this young woman’s life. The wedding was a loud and colorful way to end my first week in Marrakech.
A Camel Ride
For five days, we travelled to the Sahara and back. Along the way we stopped in a few cities such as Tamgroute, Zagora, and Ait Ben Haddou. Along the way, we bought unique green pottery and hiked through canyons and countryside. We listened and danced to traditional Berber song and dance. We visited a library containing texts over 1,000 years old written on gazelle hide. We also saw where and how the world famous Morccan Argon oil is produced. I even bought a few bars of soap and lip balm for myself.
All of this led up to a 2-hr camel ride into the Sahara desert where we spent a night amid the sand dunes. Riding a camel is definitely not as luxurious as it sounds but the view was incredible. To see the caravan of camels stretched out on the golden sands under the crisp blue sky was a sight I will never forget. After we got to our campsite in these lavishly decorated tents, we took a hike in the dunes. Our hike brought us to the top of a tall dune where we sat and watched the sun go down over the distant mountains. The night ended with delicious food, drums and roasted marshmellows around a campfire, and Arabic small talk with a few natives. And by small talk I mean the little phrases and sentences we knew. I stayed out late after everyone went to sleep to enjoy the silence. I have not heard silence quite like that before. I was able to catch a shooting start just before I went to bed.
Despite the freezing temperature at night, we all got up early to watch the sunrise over the dunes. It was a perfect moment as I saw people seek their own dune to watch the sun in solitude. This moment will too stay with me–the new sun on my face, the cool sand beneath my toes, the still quiet in the air, and those beside me.
These are a few events and accounts of my time here in Morocco. As I find more time I will delve into other stories of my adventures here as well as discussions on cultural experiences from learning the language, to walking down the streets, to eating the food–so much food. After a few weeks, I have begun to miss home a bit. Yet, halfway around the world, I still find some similarities between Marrakech and Portland. Interestingly enough, I discovered that Marrakech is also known as the Rose City because of all the red-colored buildings that line the streets.
So, as I begin to document my adventures, I remind myself that this is just a tale of my journey from one rose city to another.
