I can't wait to experience more of Morocco today. I can't think of when I have been more frightened than when it dawned on me yesterday that I was truly lost and couldn't find my way back to my hotel without help. But my fear forced me to approach people, and I was rewarded magnificently for it when the kids instantly offered to take care of me. How cool, and from such an unexpected source.
That made me braver for the rest of the day about talking to others, both Moroccans and the other travelers in my riad. Each time I did, something good happened. The daytime hotel manager here, Houria, is bubbly and fun and teases me about my Arabic, so I teased her about her boyfriend and she modeled her gorgeous green Moroccan wedding dress for me. She is a delight. I made friends with my fellow travelers, who come from Brazil, Chile, and Argentina, and not only did they invite me along but they spoke English at dinner so that I wouldn't be excluded. And I have a travel buddy to spend the day with today, exploring Marrakesh on foot. I even had a great conversation with one of the young guys who was working in the square next to where we ate. Two stereotypical American hipster dudes walked by and didn't respond when our friend called out to them, so after they passed, his parting shot was 'Hey! Slim Shady!' For some reason, that struck me so funny that I burst out laughing. He looked over and laughed too, and since business was winding down he sat down with our group and chatted for awhile. Like many Moroccans who work in the tourism industry, he speaks Arabic, English, Spanish, and Berber. So impressive.
Learning Arabic is a fabulous icebreaker. Everybody has been helping me with words and pronunciation, and it puts them in the role of teacher and me in the role of student. I think most people enjoy that role, when they can help someone learn.
On the tough side, the poverty here is deep and widespread and plainly in view. At dinner on the square, when tourists would stand to leave the table, people would materialize out of nowhere to gather the leftover food, with dry food like bread going into one plastic shopping bag and anything wet going into another. There seem to be a lot of disabled people here, including children. I need to process more before I can write about this, though.
As I write, from the tiny courtyard of the riad, which is open to the sky, I can hear a rooster crowing next door. I need to get ready to go so I can see what today brings.
That made me braver for the rest of the day about talking to others, both Moroccans and the other travelers in my riad. Each time I did, something good happened. The daytime hotel manager here, Houria, is bubbly and fun and teases me about my Arabic, so I teased her about her boyfriend and she modeled her gorgeous green Moroccan wedding dress for me. She is a delight. I made friends with my fellow travelers, who come from Brazil, Chile, and Argentina, and not only did they invite me along but they spoke English at dinner so that I wouldn't be excluded. And I have a travel buddy to spend the day with today, exploring Marrakesh on foot. I even had a great conversation with one of the young guys who was working in the square next to where we ate. Two stereotypical American hipster dudes walked by and didn't respond when our friend called out to them, so after they passed, his parting shot was 'Hey! Slim Shady!' For some reason, that struck me so funny that I burst out laughing. He looked over and laughed too, and since business was winding down he sat down with our group and chatted for awhile. Like many Moroccans who work in the tourism industry, he speaks Arabic, English, Spanish, and Berber. So impressive.
Learning Arabic is a fabulous icebreaker. Everybody has been helping me with words and pronunciation, and it puts them in the role of teacher and me in the role of student. I think most people enjoy that role, when they can help someone learn.
On the tough side, the poverty here is deep and widespread and plainly in view. At dinner on the square, when tourists would stand to leave the table, people would materialize out of nowhere to gather the leftover food, with dry food like bread going into one plastic shopping bag and anything wet going into another. There seem to be a lot of disabled people here, including children. I need to process more before I can write about this, though.
As I write, from the tiny courtyard of the riad, which is open to the sky, I can hear a rooster crowing next door. I need to get ready to go so I can see what today brings.
I am so glad things are starting off on the right foot for you and can't wait to hear more. I bet your Arabic improves by leaps and bounds, and I'd love to hear about your perceptions of the economy and infrastructure :)
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