It has been quite a journey over the mountains and through the homes of Morocco. We have experienced holidays, meals, laughter, stories, challenges, hardships, and we look forward to many good times to come, as does Morocco.

In my last This Moroccan Life post, I shared some of the challenges facing Morocco including poverty, illiteracy and poor education, corruption in the government, and loss of culture due to colonization and globalization. However, I would like to end this saga on a positive note because Morocco is a truly breath-taking and unique place. I would like to share a few amusing and touching stories I witnessed or heard about while in Morocco.

A story Moroccans tell with pride is one that I heard several times during my year abroad. During the reign of Nazi Germany and Vichy France, nazis came down into Morocco to round up Jews. There is a significant Jewish population within Morocco, but the Moroccan government responded to the nazis by saying something along the lines of, “We have no Jews in Morocco. Just Moroccans.” Morocco refused to reveal the identities of its Jews, thereby refusing to give them up. I always loved hearing this story and seeing the smiles of pride dance upon the teller’s face.

The above photograph was taken immediately upon arriving in the Casablanca airport August 31, 2013. This was the first sight I set my eyes upon in Morocco, and it warmed my heart. I took it as a good omen for the upcoming year that was to be full of adventures and lasting memories. Morocco is a country that is very communal. Traditionally, meals are eaten out of one large dish. Hospitality is key and Moroccans will never let a guest leave hungry or tired. Older Moroccans will push the best pieces of meat in the direction of the youngest or the guest. Moroccans greet each other by saying “salamo aleekum” which is a plural greeting. It’s like saying “hello to all of you.” This is done because Moroccans don’t want to leave anyone out. Someone could be within listening range of the greeting and the greeting should be extended to them as well. Elders in Morocco are respected and cared for, as shown in the picture above.

I witnessed immense amounts of care for the community by Moroccans and I was inspired to take part. Even the poorest of Moroccans spare a bit of change for those who are worse-off than them. I was inspired to do the same and got much more out of the experience than what I gave. I gained a true inspiration in the form of a woman named Lala Mina.

From the first day I walked to school in Morocco, I saw every day a little woman sitting on a street corner hoping for some money. I slowly formed a relationship with her. I began by giving her money when I passed her and giving her a smile when I had no cash on me. Eventually I began to crouch down and say hello and ask about her day (in Darija). We became friends. Her name is Mina and she has the brightest smile I have ever seen. She has an incredibly hard life but what a ray of light she bestows upon anyone she smiles at. Mina is one of the most inspirational people I have ever met. She brings me hope about humanity and motivates me to return to Morocco and contribute.

I have never felt more welcomed into a community than when I was living in Morocco. I was immediately taken in and cared for by all those who surrounded me. I was never made to feel that I had over-stayed my welcome or that I was a burden. I was always made to feel special and loved. That is the way the world should be.

I am fortunate to be returning to Morocco this summer for a month or two to see my dearly missed Moroccan loved ones. I am formulating a plan right now to try to start up a free women’s education center in Rabat where women can come and learn to read and write for free and in a safe, judgement-free environment. This idea was inspired by the women whom I grew to know and love in Morocco. Many of the women of older generations are illiterate but say that if they could have one wish, it would be to be educated and go on to do great things. I would like to try to make those wishes come true. Fingers crossed!

Finally, I would like to end with a spectacular video created by my dear friend and roommate in Morocco, Kate McDonnell.

Thank you so much for reading This Moroccan Life. Visit Morocco! Love it like I do! And always, peace be upon you. Asalamo aleekum…

 

I feel that I have painted a somewhat one-sided picture of Morocco because I had such a positive experience. It is important to keep in mind, however, that I also had a very privileged experience. It was often as though I was living my life on a pedestal of privilege because of my ethnicity, nationality, gender, appearance, and station in life. I often received special and preferential treatment which could sometimes make it difficult to see the suffering of many Moroccans. Once the cloud of privilege cleared, the general strife came into clear view.

Morocco is a very class-stratified country. The rich upper-class is very small compared to the total population, most of whom are very poor. One of the problems I saw with this class-stratification is the consequential loss of Moroccan culture. My State Department scholarship paid for a very expensive French high school education. Apart from my eight fellow Americans, the students at this small high school were all Moroccan. However, most of them insisted upon speaking French or even English with each other and seemed to reject their native Arabic dialect of Darija. They dress strictly in imported European designer brands. When my American friends and I would talk about our hammam (public bath) experiences and they would exclaim in disdain about how gross they thought it was that we went to the hammam instead of just showering at home. The hammam is a traditional component of Moroccan culture. This is just one example of the negative ramifications of European colonization and class-stratification on Morocco.

Furthermore, racism is a large problem in Morocco and I think this came about also due to the French colonization of Morocco. There are many sub-Saharian African immigrants in Morocco who are not legally there but really stuck in Morocco because of their illegal entry. This leaves them without jobs and destitute. The majority of people begging on the streets in Morocco are these immigrants and they are heavily discriminated against.

Only about one half of the population of Morocco is literate, and less than half of the female population can read. Public education in Morocco is very poor and I think that this is the government’s way of stifling a full of potential population. Knowledge is power, and the whole world knows it and is unwilling to give that power freely to the brilliant minds of the mass populous. This phenomenon occurs all over the world, including the United States.

Despite these issues, as I have depicted in my previous blog entries, Morocco is a wondrously beautiful country with a rich culture and heritage, delicious food, breathtaking locations, warm and welcoming people, and boundless potential.

Despite all the stories I have already shared with you about my beloved Morocco, I realized that I failed to provide you with some basic information about it first! So better late than never, here it is.

In case you do not know where Morocco is located, the map below will help you out a bit. Morocco is located on the northwestern-most corner of Africa and is just a short ferry or plane ride away from Spain. In the north, in the vicinity of the city of Tangier (as shown on the map below), because of the close proximity to Spain and because of Spain’s past colonization of Morocco, many people speak Spanish in the north in addition to Arabic and French.

Because of France’s past long-time colonization of Morocco, the vast majority of Moroccans who have attended school speak at least a sufficient amount of French. I speak French, so this made my transition much easier until I began to learn Darija (the Moroccan dialect of Arabic). The official languages of Morocco are Berber (or Amazir) and Arabic (Modern Standard Arabic). 

In ancient times, Morocco was colonized also by Romans and ancient Roman ruins can be found outside of Rabat, called Chellah, as well as outside of Meknes, called Volubilis.

Pictured above are the ruins at Chellah outside of Rabat.

These are the Volubilis ruins outside of Meknes.

http://www.atfp.org.ae/English/countries/morocco/morocco.html

Morocco’s name in Arabic is El Maghreb which means the “kingdom of the west” because Morocco is the westernmost Arabic country. El Maghreb in Arabic also means “sunset.”

As you can see, Morocco is geographically diverse. It is one of only three countries to have coasts on both the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea. Morocco is home to the Atlas Mountains, the Sahara Desert, forests, farmland, rivers, beaches, cliffs, coastlines, country villages, and elegant cities. All are full of history.

Morocco’s government includes a king (currently King Mohammed VI), and an elected parliament, both components making it a constitutional monarchy. The king holds the vast majority of the power, especially regarding military and foreign affairs.

Here is a picture of the parliament building (adorned by my handsome father during his visit to Morocco last spring). It is located in Rabat, the capitol.

http://www.worldtribune.com/2013/10/20/moroccan-king-ousts-islamists-returns-old-guard-to-cabinet/#

The religion of Morocco is Islam. Morocco is therefore a Muslim country and religion is a large part of life for many Moroccans.

Here is a picture of a neighborhood mosque outside of the Rabat medina (the original walled city).

Morocco was the very first country to officially recognize the independence of the United States back in 1777. The two countries have remained steadfast diplomatic allies since. They have strong political and trade ties. Last year King Mohammed VI visited the White House and met with President Obama. This was very exciting for me because it happened while I was in Morocco and it felt like a funny and comforting exchange – I visited the country of the King of Morocco and he visited mine!

Stay in tune for next week’s edition of This Moroccan Life where I will discuss the challenges and goals facing the past, present, and future of Morocco.

Dislclaimer: DO NOT READ IF HUNGRY

My year in Morocco was a year of learning and growing. Growing in every sense of the word. Let’s just say I had to pay some overweight fees on the flight home…and not for my suitcases…

Long story short, I ate some really good food in Morocco. Food is a pretty big deal over there. It brings people together and the first thing Moroccans will ask after they meet you is, “Have you eaten?”

When possible, we eat all together as a family and depending on what we we’re eating, we often eat with our hands using bread as a utensil. This is a fattening but delicious way of eating. Moroccan food is usually served in a large communal dish that we all eat out of. When eating out of the communal dish, we stay in our own little area, but the elder at the table will typically place the best pieces of meat, fish, or vegetables in your area if you are young, pregnant, a guest, or really just if they deem you in need of more food. I am a vegetarian, so when large pieces of meat would get pushed in my direction, I always had to find sneaky ways to push the meat right back. However, I was soon found out and not wanting to offend my extremely generous hosts, I decided to compromise and become a peskitarian.

I had some favorite dishes that I wish I could literally share with you. Feasting your eyes will have to be enough for now.

Most Moroccans buy their fruits and vegetables in outdoor markets or from stands like this one. The produce is fresh, cheap, bountiful, and delicious. Food in Morocco is heavily subsidized and therefore very cheap compared to food in the United States so despite the widespread poverty of Morocco, few Moroccans are hungry because they can eat on far less than a dollar a day (the exchange rate is about 8 Moroccan Dirhams to 1 U.S. Dollar).

I found this spread on the table the first night I arrived at my host family’s home in Rabat. This is technically the first Moroccan dish I ate. To the left is a dish made of potatoes and eggs and to the right is rice and salad. Most Moroccan meals are accompanied by salad and of course, bread.

Meat is an important part of a Moroccan diet. Even if I didn’t eat it, I still helped prepare it!

I mentioned that salads are a common side dish. This salad does not quite meet the size constraints of a side dish, but it is a classic example of a French/Moroccan salad.

This is a tagine eaten with bread. Tagines typically have meat in the center surrounded by vegetables. The combination stews in the clay tagine bowl over a stove or a fire. This is then eaten with bread. Tagine is among the most traditional Moroccan cuisine.

Here, I am eating my absolute favorite Moroccan dish – vegetable couscous. I am eating it here with a friend’s family, but I would normally go home for lunch to eat couscous with my family every Friday (couscous is traditionally eaten on the holy day which is Friday).  Usually couscous is eaten with spoons and accompanied by a glass of sour buttermilk (in Darija called leben), an acquired taste to say the least. At first I couldn’t stand the taste of the buttermilk, but I soon came to love it and have glass after glass with my couscous. After filling up on couscous on Fridays, we would usually take a nap and relax for the afternoon.

This is what I requested be served at my birthday party. After my conversion to peskitarianism, this roasted fish, rice, vegetable, and herb dish became among my three favorite dishes. The fish is filled with rice and surrounded by vegetables, all roasted for a long time in a huge oven. My host grandmother makes this dish better than anyone is the world.

Dinner is almost invariably followed by a spread of fresh fruit which was always my favorite part and something you both looked forward to and left room for. The fruit is seasonal for the most part so each season brought with it a new delicacy. For example, Fall is the season of pomegranates, or roman in Darija.

For parties, get-togethers, or even a large-scale tea time, a spread of pastries like this one are not uncommon. This would be served with the classic Moroccan sweet, hot mint tea or coffee with much milk and sugar. This spread in particular was from the goodbye henna party my host mother threw for me before I departed.

I have saved the best for last. My favorite dish (tied with couscous) is called rfisa. It has chicken in the middle, and the pasta looking stuff around it is shredded rife which is a flaky, layered pastry bread. In rfisa, the rife is soaked in a flavorful brothy sauce and covered in small brown lentils. This is eaten with spoons or just your hands. This is the most delicious food you will ever eat.

I have shown you just a sliver of the Moroccan table. On every street sweet smells waft from tiny bakeries and patisseries. Butchers sell fresh-cut meat and call out their competitive prices. A trip to the brightly colored vegetable market, or souk, is an adventure in comparison and bargaining. Street vendors sell some of the quickest,  cheapest, and tastiest food, despite what your run of the mill tourist book will tell you. Go to Morocco, if for nothing else, for the food. In Morocco, you can eat, pray, and love.

Tune in for next week’s edition of This Moroccan Life where a brief history of Morocco will be divulged.

 

 

I would like to take you on a spinning, shining tour of one of the world’s most beautiful countries – Morocco. During my year there I was fortunate enough to tour the entire country during my breaks from school. I traveled with my group of seven fellow State Department exchange students and our in-country coordinator. We visited the top tourist sites, but most of the time, we were exploring off-the-beaten-path places which were, for the most part, known of and visited only by locals. This meant when we arrived in places like these, our little tour bus tended to attract much attention, but we always received a warm welcome.

Here are some things you (along with many people) might not know about Morocco:

– Morocco is located in the northwest corner of Africa.

– The official language of Morocco is French (due to its past French colonization), but the vast majority of the people (particularly those who have not been formally educated) speak Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic.

– Morocco is a Muslim country, and therefore a bit on the conservative side when it comes to dress, male-female relations, and other behaviors and traditions. However, Morocco is one of the most progressive Muslim countries in terms of conservativeness. This is probably because of Morocco’s close proximity to and the strong influence of Europe and its culture.

– Morocco is not just demographically diverse, but it is also incredibly geographically diverse. Morocco houses bright coastlines, towering, snow-capped mountains, winding rivers, crashing waterfalls, deserts, rolling hills, country villages, ancient cities, modern cities, pristine beaches, deep forests, sprawling farmland, and much, much history. Morocco is truly one of the most diverse and beautiful countries I have ever seen or heard of.

I would like to take you on a short tour of the places I have visited in Morocco and hopefully inspire you to travel to Morocco.

http://www.atfp.org.ae/English/countries/morocco/morocco.html

Here is a map for your reference and convenience.

I will begin with Rabat, the capital of Morocco where I lived all year and spent the vast majority of my time. Even after touring Morocco, Rabat remained my favorite city and the only city I could imagine living in.

This is the Avenue Mohammed V, which is located in Centre Ville, the old French quarter. Along this beautiful, bustling, palm tree-lined street, there are countless exquisite cafes, the imposing parliament building, and at the far end of the street, as visible in the picture, is a large mosque. Mosques can be found in every neighborhood of Morocco. Their calls to prayer echo and reverberate in a chillingly beautiful way all through town five times a day.

This is a view from Les Oudayas, a beautiful, blue and white painted little village (now a neighborhood of Rabat) on the beach home to many surfers and fishermen. The scene which unfolds in the distance of the picture includes all the neighborhoods of Rabat. The Hassan Tower (La Tour Hassan) can be seen far in the distance. La Tour Hassan is the signature landmark of Rabat. Not pictured but directly to the right of the picture is the medina (old town) of Rabat. This is the original, ancient walled town of Rabat. Everything else in Rabat was later built up around the walled section.

 

Next, I would like to show you the city of Fez. Fez is located to the north of Rabat and is a very ancient city. The medina of Fez smelled thousands of years old. Fez is most famous for its massive tanneries and tanning industry. Pictured below is a scene of one of the countless tanneries. We were given sprigs of mint to press against our noses in order to enter the tannery; the odor would have otherwise been simply overpowering.

 

Next up is Moulay Yacob. This is a small village built directly into the side of a hill. Moulay Yacob is home to a legendary healing sulfur spring with a public bathhouse (or hammam) built up around it. People travel here to fix various ailments from skin diseases to serious physical disabilities. This is a view of the village of Moulay Yacob from an adjacent hill which is a popular pilgrimage destination. The hike up was quite literally breathtaking!

 

The next country village we visited is called Ain Leuh. This village is home to forests filled to the brim with wild yet bold monkeys! We stopped in the forest and came in close contact with these furry creatures. Pictured below is a family of monkeys clearly discussing what to do with the unwelcome visitors (us).

 

Yet another tiny country village we were delighted to alight upon is that of Oum Rabia, or “mother source.” Oum Rabia is home to Morocco’s most attractive waterfall that is supposedly the original and mother source of all Morocco’s rivers leading the the sea. We ate a delicious lunch of hot chicken and vegetable tagine (a traditional Moroccan dish) and fresh, hearty bread seated on carpets under a canopy of palm roofs with the river rushing just feet from us. After lunch, we napped as the river gushed. It was incredibly tranquil.

After lunch and a nap, we hiked just fifteen minutes alongside the river to the waterfall herself.

 

Casablanca, whose name is made famous by the classic American film, is the financial and economic capital of Morocco. Quite a concrete jungle, Casablanca’s three main attractions (besides its excellent downtown shopping) are its striking, windy coastlines and beaches, Morocco Mall, the largest mall in all of Africa, and the Hassan II mosque, the largest mosque in Morocco and Africa, and the seventh largest in the world. The mosque is depicted below.

 

Outside of the city of Meknes is Volubilis, the site of ancient Roman ruins in Morocco. We visited Volubilis on an ominously cloudy day, and the ruins loomed hauntingly. It is a spectacular site and the history is amazing.

This is a picture of a famous old guest house and garden (now a museum) in Meknes, one of the smaller but older cities in Morocco.

 

This is a picture of a neighborhood in the affluent and very cold, northern town of Ifrane, called by many the “Switzerland of Morocco.”

 

This is a picture of a beach town between Rabat and Casablanca called Bouzneka. My friends and I visited the beach in the relative chill of a Moroccan winter, but in the summer, this beach, lined with luxurious private beach houses, would be a hot, go-to beach spot.

 

This is the main square of the medina of Marrakech which becomes vibrantly alive come nightfall. Marrakech is called by many the party city, and is definitely the most touristy city in Morocco. Despite these factors, it is still beautiful and historic with palm trees lining the city limits and snow-capped mountains standing guard from a distance.

 

Here is a sight you will not believe. On the hot, dusty road south of Marrakech we shrieked with delight and pleaded our bus driver to pull over to the side of the road so we could alight and take in the mind-boggling scene before us. There were goats climbing and milling about upon trees! The trees are argon trees. Argon oil is a famed specialty of Morocco, and goats are instrumental in the production process. They climb the trees, eat the argon nuts, and  defecate the nuts thereby removing the otherwise nearly impossible to remove outer shell. The nuts are then collected and ground into the expensive argon oil. We could not believe our eyes!

 

The next stop on our trip was the windy, beach city of Essouira. This is perhaps the most beautiful city I have ever seen. It is very old, and despite the fact that it was a bit touristy, we had a great few days exploring it. I galloped across the beach on a horse while many of my friends plodded along astride camels. There are many ghost stories and legends surrounding Essouira, and one night, my roommate and I had quite a ghostly encounter. This was among my favorite places visited. It was breathtaking.

Here I am standing on the roof of our hotel in Essouira trying not to be blown away by the gusty gales. Essouira is pretty much a peninsula – it is surrounded by the ocean on three of its four sides.

On our way out of Essouira, we briefly visited a tiny fishing and surfing village (whose name now escapes me) and hiked up some hills to witness this spectacular view.

 

During our final voyage as a group in Morocco, we visited a quaint, pretty beach town called M’Diq, a town in Morocco that touches the Mediterranean Sea. We spent a morning running and playing on the beach and swimming in the Mediterranean Sea.

 

Our final destination before returning, for the last time, to Rabat, was to the famous village of Chefchouan. This town is nestled in the Atlas mountains and sprawls in a steep valley. It is very much a tourist spot, but it somehow maintains its charm. Chefchouan is often known for its hashish (marijuana), thus providing the town and its people a very relaxed mood and outlook on life. My best friend and I enjoyed sitting atop the high-up roof of a restaurant and people watching in the square below. Chefchouan’s visitors come from literally all over the world and you are bound to meet some interesting people there. Chefchouan is also famous for its blue-painted walls. Chouan felt like it should be on a beach, although it is far from the shore.

Here is a view of Chefchouan from our elevated hotel.

Here is a cafe sporting the classic blue paint.

 

The only region I failed to include in this guide is the southeastern region of the Sahara. The famous city of Ouarzazate is located on the Sahara Desert and is home to some ancient mud cliff dwellings. Also, countless film productions have been filmed there from Game of Thrones to Gladiator.

As one can easily see, Morocco is a vastly diverse and breathtakingly beautiful country. It is warm, welcoming, and safe if you’re smart. It is my home and I love it dearly. With all my heart, I welcome you to Morocco!!!

Stay tuned for next week’s edition of This Moroccan Life where you will get a taste of Morocco!

 

I will start off by telling you about one of the most important parts of my Moroccan life. My host mother, Fatima Zohra, has an aunt who owns a farm outside of Rabat. It is an exquisitely beautiful farm complete with a large, very southwestern looking estate house, and countless animals including peacocks, puppies and dogs, cats, pheasants, chickens, ducks, cows, and one donkey.

I often sought refuge at the farm on the weekends to escape the noisy, hectic life of the city, and I relished throwing on my oldest clothes and helping feed the animals and maintain the farm. We would hike around the surrounding forests full of cork tress (did you know that Morocco is the largest exporter of cork in the world?). I would converse in eloquent French with my host aunt and uncle about current events, the economy, funny stories, and everything in between. They are very successful bankers whose three grown sons studied and work and live in Switzerland. Their lovely, spacious house seemed empty without their lively sons, so they welcomed me lovingly each weekend that I came and they soon began to regard me like their daughter.

In addition to relaxing weekends spent helping on the farm, cooking, and studying in the countryside, I attended countless lively parties thrown by my host aunt. They were always full of music, dancing, delicious food, and wonderful company. The children laughed and ran free over the farm, happy to be away from the confinements of the city.

I became very good friends with some of the farm hands, and spent countless hours laughing with them and bantering in Darija (Moroccan Arabic).

I helped raise one of the puppies whenever I was at the farm and named him Baby. I hate to be partial, but in my opinion he grew up to be the most beautiful, strongest, fastest, and smartest of them all, although I love all of the puppies.

Here is Baby when he was still a baby with some of his brothers and sisters. He is the one curled up on my lap.

 

Here is the road leading from the house to the barns and the forest.

And here is the forest!

Here is a picture of one of the smaller get togethers we have had at my aunt’s farm. This one included some women from the family. We played drums and sang after dinner one evening.

Here I am helping out with some of the farm chores.

Kate, my roommate, and I inspired a Moroccan Christmas in our house. We bought and decorated a little fake Christmas tree, played Christmas music, and cooked chocolate chip pancakes and eggnog for breakfast on Christmas morning. We all exchanged gifts and had a merry time.

Having my dad’s week-long visit to me in March was one of the most special memories of my year in Morocco. I was lucky enough to have him here when I learned about my acceptance into Screyer! Daddy ate dinner every evening with us at home, and during the day we explored Rabat and the neighboring sights. He got to know and love all the people I loved in Morocco. We had a great time.

Here I am with my host mother, Fatima Zohra, both of us covered in tears of joy, after learning about getting into Schreyer. Daddy took the picture.

One of my best Moroccan friends, Hachim, took Daddy (and me) on a wonderful boat tour of the river leading into the ocean which majestically borders Rabat. We had a grand time!

Here I am with Daddy and Hachim.

Finally, I would like to show you a few photos of my beloved host family and friends. They opened up a world to me I never imagined I would be a part of. I am eternally grateful to them for opening up their lives and their hearts to take me in as one of their own. I love each and every member of my host family and my friends. They all deserve a photo tribute, and of course, so much more.

Lunch with the family in the medina at my host grandmother’s, Haja’s, house.

My host brother and constant companion, Ziyad and me.

My roommate Kate and me.

One of my best friends Amira (which means princess in Arabic and suits her so well) and me at my host mother’s birthday party in our Rabat apartment.

Hachim and Ziyad

My host ‘sisters’ at my birthday party.

My host nephews, Moncef and Ashraf.

My host niece, Maissae.

And finally, my beautiful host mother, Fatima Zohra and her baby, Ziyad and me on one of our COUNTLESS outings together. Fatima Zohra (and of course Ziyad) is my best friend in the entire world. We spent the year in constant companionship. We were never apart. We  fought together, wet our pants laughing together, cried together,  and told each other everything. I owe to her the vast majority of my happiness during my year in Morocco. She introduced me to at least half the people I know call my Moroccan loved ones. I love Fatima Zohra and Ziyad more than I could ever say. It is to them that I owe all my gratitude for a wonderful year.

And to everyone not pictured, I love you and thank you.

Stay in tuned for the next passion blog…a tour and travel guide of the cities and country of Morocco!

 

 

I left you last time with a plate of steaming couscous. Bsaha raha! To your health and enjoy! I will show you the second third of my year in Morocco in this entry.

I would like to present you first with Eid al Adha, the biggest and most important holiday in Islam. It it the holiday that directly follows Ramadan, the month of fasting. Eid is the symbolic, final breaking of the fast. Each family who can afford to do so buys a sheep and sacrifices it. Not an inch of the sheep is wasted, and one third is given to the poor, one third is given to family and friends, and one third is kept for the family themselves.

I am a vegetarian, and remained so all year (with occasional compromises of fish to appease my hosts), but I was actually not as deeply disturbed by the sacrificial tradition as I thought I would be. The way in which the sheep are killed during Eid is far more humane than the way we eat meat in the United States.

Eid is a time of giving and sharing and gathering together. This was the first time I felt very close with my extended host family. I ran the streets with my little host cousins, running from neighbor to neighbor within the medina to wish them a happy Eid, or Eid Mubarak. We all wore our traditional Moroccan clothing, djellabas for women and men, and fokiyas for men.

Here I am holding my baby host brother, Ziyad, watching the festivities take place.

Here I am running around the medina with some good friends, visiting other good friends.

Next, I would like to share the memory of my eighteenth birthday which I was fortunate enough to have spent in the company of my beloved host family and friends in Morocco. I helped plan the party which included fancy attire, a feast of roasted fish, rice, vegetables, salad, and baguette, lots of Arabic music and dancing, laughing, talking, and a double decker ice cream birthday cake!

Here is the feast and some of the family!

Here is the beautiful birthday itself! I blew out the candles just before midnight struck.

I attended a French high school in Rabat. I was one of eight Americans (all were members of my program), the rest of the students were Moroccans. Morocco was colonized by the French, so most Moroccans speak at least a bit of French, and many speak it fluently.

The French system of education is very different from the American system. My school included students from eighth grade up until senior year of high school, but was very small with less than one hundred students total.

Classes were lecture-based, and small. The students stayed in the same classroom while the teachers rotated. After ninth grade the students choose one of three tracks; business, economics, or science. I chose the economics track and took philosophy, history, geography, French literature, economics, and political science. My fellow American peers disliked this way of school for the most part, but I thoroughly enjoyed it and made many friends and developed strong relationships with the professors.

Here is the school from the outside.

This is my philosophy class. We were discussing Plato’s cave theory. Notice the plain walls and the small size of the classroom.

This concludes Part II of three! Tune in next time!

 

 

 

 

Salamo aleekum! Hello! I would like to give a brief photo tour of my year in Morocco. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words (with a brief caption of course)! I had the once in a lifetime opportunity to live in Morocco on a U.S. Department of State full scholarship through the State Department’s Kennedy-Lugar Youth Exchange and Study (YES) Abroad Program. It is a diplomatic mission for youth from the United States and primarily Muslim countries to build a bridge between the countries by building lasting relationships and understanding.

The above photograph was taken immediately upon arriving in the Casablanca airport August 31, 2013. This was the first sight I set my eyes upon in Morocco, and it warmed my heart. I took it as a good omen for the upcoming year to be full of adventures and lasting memories.

The first night after arriving in Morocco,  us eight American exchange students were dropped off at our respective Moroccan host families where I met my soon to be beloved host mother, Fatima Zohra, her husband Amine, and their two month year old baby Ziyad. All my sadness and homesickness flew away instantly when I first met my host family and saw the breathtaking view from my windows and roof. The picture below is a picture of one of the first breathtaking sunsets I witnessed from my roof, a place where I spent countless hours hanging up laundry, reading, listening to music, talking with my friends, and writing in my journal.

Here is a view from the roof during the day.

My favorite place to spend time in is the medina. Medina means “old city” in Arabic, so the medina is the ancient, original walled city. I passed countless days and hours strolling around with my friends, and especially with my host mother Fatima Zohra and her baby Ziyad. The medina is beautifully overwhelming, full of smells, sounds, and crowds. The energy there, especially on a Friday night is exhilarating.

This next photo is a photo of early morning breakfast with my host mother, Fatima Zohra (left most), her (and my) good friend Nezha, and my beloved room mate Kate. Food was a huge part of my life in Morocco, and breakfast was something to look forward to every morning. We had hot, sweet mint tea, pastries, bread with butter, jelly, cheese, or nutella. Food was always abundant and always tempting. Food is a big part of Moroccan life. Eating is a very communal event, bringing family and friends together. Usually food is eaten out of a communal bowl or plate, often eaten with bread and hands.

Couscous, eaten traditionally every Friday afternoon (Friday is the Muslim holy day), was my absolute favorite food in Morocco. I would skip breakfast every Friday morning so I would be very hungry and look forward even more to couscous. I would take the tram every Friday from school to my host father’s mother’s house in the medina where I would help her cook, eat with the family, and then take a nap. Couscous was a very symbolic part of my Moroccan life because of how it brought me to know and love many Moroccans.

I will leave you and your watering mouth and continue with This Moroccan Life, Part II for next week! Chokran, ou masalama! Thank you, and goodbye!

I wake up every morning
Sometimes early, sometimes late
I always sleep well, no tossing or turning
My merry nights are full of laughter with Kate

Surrounded at home by four stately mosques, I never fail to hear the call to prayer
Five times a day, reminders of the hour
I discover how truly rich this culture is, day by day, layer by layer
Bread and tea, sugar and flour

Each morning, to school I walk
After a breakfast of harsha or rife
In class, it’s in French that I learn and talk
Enjoy this quick glimpse into my new Moroccan life

It’s evening now, from school I am free
I’ll drop off my load
And to the medina we’ll head, just you and me …

Juge dirham! Juge dirham!
Watch your bag!
Jostled by the crowd, just flow with it
Narrow streets, secret passages, smell of leather, shiny trinkets
Shebekia, makouda, traked, my favorite medina treats
Breathe in the excitement, the energy, the electricity that flows through the medina
My favorite place in Morocco

Now it’s Friday, relax at will
Couscous is cooking, shops are closed
The town is lethargic, sleepy, and still
Eat till you’re full, then rest and repose

Because the weekend will be full
Of birthday parties, trips to the beach, cafes, and runs along the coast and at the park
Of visiting the many friends I have made, loving them wholly, body and soul
But my days fly by and end quickly, as I must be home shortly after dark

Morocco is my home now, complete with family and friends
I have learned so much about myself and have gained a broader global perspective
It frightens and saddens me that this year has nearly reached its end
I would never leave here were it my elective

I thank my Moroccan family and friends for taking me under your wings
For making me as Moroccan as ever I could be
For teaching me how to, without inhibition, dance and sing
For sharing with me the rich culture and beauty of this beloved country

Morocco, I am yours.

 

The second I learned about the Passion Blog project, I knew which topic I would invest my heart and soul into for the semester. Morocco. I returned mid-June of this summer (2014) from a year of study abroad in Rabat, Morocco on a State Department Scholarship (the Kennedy Lugar YES Abroad Program). During the year, my Moroccan host family and friends became my second family, and Morocco became my second home. After just a couple of months of living in Morocco, I ceased to exist as an exchange student and became a true, valued, and loved member of the family and of the community. Everyone in my neighborhood knew me and looked out for me, and my friends were faithful and always there for me. My best friend in Morocco is my host mother, Fatima Zohra, and of course, her baby Ziyad. I am closest with them, but there is a plethora of people whom I adore in Morocco. The first idea that came to mind is to honor those people in at least one of my Passion Blogs by telling their stories and featuring their photo portraits. This is a similar idea to the Capstone Project I was required to perform for the culmination of my year abroad. I interviewed approximately thirty of the women whom I had met and grown to love and respect during my year in Morocco. I brought this project to life in order to honor those women who have inspired me and done so much for me, but also to break down stereotypes of women living in Muslim countries held in countries like the U.S.

 

The second idea for my Moroccan Passion Blog is that at least one of my entries will be like a travel guide. I traveled extensively with my group of seven fellow exchange students, and was fortunate enough to explore Morocco’s breathtakingly diverse geography, from mountains to deserts to oceans to cities to forests to villages to river valleys and waterfalls. I witnessed an array of wildlife, as well as the different lifestyles upheld in both the cities and the rural villages. I travelled Morocco North and South, up and down, and everywhere in between. Not to mention, Rabat, the city in which I lived, I know like the back of my hand. I know every back alley, short cut, side street, tourist trap, bakery, convenience store, tailor, hotel, secret beach, jogging park, and monument one could want to know about. I could give extensive tours of the city myself! My friends used to tell me I should come back and become a taxi driver I knew my way around so well.

 

So these are just two ideas for my Passion Blog entries, but I have many more. I would like to write about my experience in the French education system and how different it is from the American education system. I would like to talk in depth about the mouth-watering food of Morocco that was so detrimental to my physique. I would like to discuss the problems Morocco and its people face, such as poverty, lack of proper education, and unemployment. I would like  to discuss Morocco’s system of government, and its relations with the United States. I would like to write about the medinas of Morocco, the ancient, walled parts of town, as well as its riads, or traditional hotels. I would like to discuss Morocco’s languages, Darija (the Moroccan dialect of Arabic) and French, and how the French colonization impacted Morocco and its society. I could talk and write for hours and hours about Morocco, my home and beloved country. Running out of things to talk about when it comes to Morocco is not something I’m concerned about for this semester. I can’t wait to begin!