 |
| Al Akhawayn University (AUI), located in the Atlas Mountains, a ten minute walk from the town of Ifrane, |
In the week leading up to my departure from the US, the same phrase was the last thing I heard fall from the lips of my loved ones: “Be safe.” It is easy to prepare for the worst, especially when you’re voyaging to a country your friends and family may not know much about. Fear, it turns out, is often rooted in love. Their fear is stemmed from their desire to see me again, to be able to go get dinner, share a laugh, walk their dog; they want me to come home, and I understand that feeling. However, fear did not prepare me for the things I have already experienced in Morocco; instead it made them all the better.
This blog post is not to deceive you into thinking that I was brave and daring. I do not want you to think that I walked confidently onto my plane or that I scoffed at the idea of loneliness and disconnect that might await me. Let me be very honest with you: within hours of arriving in Casablanca, I sat on the airport floor almost in tears while luggage carts threatened to trample my toes as I awaited a complete stranger. In that moment I realized my language skills were not as strong as I had been told and I struggled to communicate. It’s easy to stay focused on the negatives of situations like these and, in the moment, I must admit, I questioned whether or not I was as adventurous as I had thought myself to be when I was on American soil. But there’s a cliché that says that life begins outside of your comfort zone. And as much as I hate to admit it, that cliché was right.
 |
| An ally in the town of Chefchaouen, known as the Blue Pearl. |
Everyone prepares you for the fear of arriving in a new place, with new people and surrounded by new things, but allow me to share some of the things I could have never been prepared for upon my arrival at Al Akhawayn. I could not imagine the way thunderstorms roll over the university, which is perched upon a mountain, or how you can stare up at the sky for an hour and watch the lightening illuminate the sky around you and hear the thunder roar while not a drop of rain falls. And when the clouds decide to share some of their water, it falls in large drops, almost like they’re meant to satisfy a thirst the ground holds. And when the storm clears, stray cats wander campus and into the Cafe, urging you to pet them and give them a treat from your table. No one mentions how you will be greeted with salam, meaning "peace", everywhere you go. Or how people will walk you to the Marche in town when you are lost, despite them not being able to communicate with you at all; it’s like they simply know you need help, and they do not think a second before offering it to you. They leave out how you will have professors from all around the globe who may have served as the ambassador to the United Nations, or taught at Harvard, or maybe are a Crowned Prince, or from your home country. The images of cities painted blue and mountains holding waters so beautiful they're said to belong to God never come to their mind. They fail to mention the friends you will meet who felt exactly as you did on the floor of the airport, or how together you’ll be able to figure things out.
Yes, they tell you to be safe, but you should also be open, be curious and be willing to feel uncomfortable, because I promise, it will be worth it.
 |
| View of the chasm of God's Bridge, located near Akshour in the Atlas Mountains, a 45 minute taxi ride from Chefchaouen. |
