This past weekend was easily one of the most enlightening trips I've ever been on; the setting for this memorable encounter? Morocco...
While having the great fortune of being able to travel around Spain so much already this semester, I've been really wanting to dive into a new world so a couple weeks ago I bought a cheap flight ticket to Marrakech, Morocco. With my fellow international students touring other worthy European cities or going to Morocco another time (with one of the many large-grouped, package deals they offer here), I knew I would be traveling alone and was certainly comfortable with that; Being a fairly independent traveler, I find it easiest when I'm the only one to please and theres no plans, no judgment, no whining...just spontaneous exploration.
This enlightenment began the moment I stepped outside Marrakech Airport, where I found myself nudging my way through armed guards, Muslim traders, and one-eyed beggars just to find the road into the city. Using an online recommendation and not against saving 30 dirhams (about 3 euros/4 dollars), I traveled from the airport to the city center on foot. The journey was about an hour and a half and took me through the gorgeous Menara Gardens and down streets where I first witnessed the extreme diversity of Moroccan road travel: a mix of Western cars, horse carriages, constantly honking motorcycles, family-packing scooters, and crop-carrying donkeys to name a few.
For a guy with some OCD characteristics, I thought finding my hostel without a map, the absence of street signs, lack of any French or Arabic language skills (the two most useful in these parts), and the target of "TOURIST!" on my back in a legitimately foreign North African city was a pretty fun, (dare I say) relaxing experience. Ok so I had some directions jotted down beforehand, but they consisted of finding a missing cafe (that my hostel manager Abdullah later told me was being rebuilt after a bombing last year that killed 17 people...yes not the greatest first impression), a small bazaar selling wooden trinkets, and an old toothless Berber man handing out hard drugs (ok well not quite) so I did feel quite relieved after I found my way to Djemaa el Fna (the large main square and sight of that bombing), through dozens of decorated souks, down numerous narrow alleyways, and into my cozy hostel.
After having some deliciously sweet Moroccan tea with Abdullah that Friday night, I instinctively booked a cheap two day-one night excursion to the Sahara Desert leaving early Saturday and returning Sunday evening. The hostel offered other packaged trips to the mountains, beach, and various towns around the country but I knew a Saharan adventure was calling my name, it being a major global brand when it comes to natural geography.
After meeting my fellow excursionists on Saturday morning (made up of 4 Italians, 3 French, 1 Arab, and our Moroccan driver), we drove for hours through some of the most amazing landscapes I've seen, studded with mountains, canyons, hillside towns, lush oases, and the usual Moroccan roadside salesmen until we reached a small desert town a few hours southeast of Marrakech. From here, we rode for nearly two hours via camel into the Sahara until arriving at our campsite. While it was a bit bumpy (as expected) and possibly a little more uncomfortable for me and my fellow gents as the minutes passed, riding a camel into the desert was a genuinely unique, movie-like experience and wasn't quite complete without our Arabic-speaking caravan leaders getting a tad lost along the way...However, they would renew themselves by finding our camp, cooking us a simple yet satisfying Moroccan three course meal, and hosting a little concert by the campfire as night swept across the desert landscape.
On this Sahara excursion, I also recall gazing up at the starry, non-light polluted desert sky for hours and really noticing the Milky Way and several shooting stars for the first time. While a couple of the French travelers spoke a little English, it was also interesting being the only American and native English speaker in the group. I was called "America" by the two Arabic-speaking Caravan leaders and the only other intelligible word they could muster my way was "Obama" so naturally I just kept smiling and nodding (like the first days in my Spanish homestay) and we got along great. While I wouldn't have objected to an English or even Spanish speaker, I found communicating without a common language a very illuminating aspect of this trip. Also, seeing several towns without water, electricity, cars (things we think of as necessities) and young children having one soccer ball as their primary entertainment (and seeing foreigners as their biggest thrill) was so eye-opening and showed me how fortunate and lucky my life has been.
After departing the soothing Sahara and returning to the craziness of Marrakech Sunday evening, I continued to explore the city more (until flying back to Sevilla Monday afternoon), observing the hordes of salesmen making their living (you can seriously buy anything here...just be prepared to negotiate), dodging traffic (it took me five-ten minutes to cross the average street due to the lack of traffic lights and insanely crazy drivers), stumbling upon numerous hidden souks and eateries, and escaping the rush/watching the world go by from some mosque gardens.
Looking back on my first four days in the African continent, I discovered it was the first place I had been truly aware of how different life was to Spain and certainly the US. I was viewing scenes I had only seen through movies, shows, and documentaries but neither in person nor on my past travels...and that was EXACTLY the way I wanted it! I never felt fearful, just conscientious of my new surroundings, my status as being a foreigner in their country, and open to learning as much as I could about this foreign land in my short stay.
It felt amazing to survive and conquer at least a chunk of North Africa on my own, as I had never expected to be getting the opportunity to do something quite so adventurous for some time. I really hadn't experienced major culture shock until my visit here, and I'm so grateful to the country (and Ryanair!) for letting me experience something so different. Different is sometimes good and sometimes bad but to me it's always a blessing when you can put the world in perspective and sincerely appreciate where you come from...I look forward to getting that feeling again, hopefully sooner than I expect.
Check out my Morocco picture album on Facebook which should be up this week!
Happy October and GO GATORS!!
