Things I've Learned in Morocco, On My Last Night Here for Awhile

First thing's first: I learned to love this place. As hassled as I've sounded and felt on so many occasions in this blog, I hope that I've still communicated my admiration and enjoyment of and affection for this country. One consequence of traveling alone is that I don't have anybody to vent with when I've had a bad experience, so usually I turn to my friends and family through this blog when I need to say, "You know what just happened to me!?!" But there have been so, so many lovely people and experiences and moments here. I am fearing that I didn't strike a great balance sometimes, but please know that I really did love my time here, despite some significant irritations.

I'm so much luckier than I ever realized. I definitely wouldn't have considered myself an ungrateful person prior to this trip. But my month here trained a light on a lot of blind spots, privileges in my life at home that I hadn't regarded as such and that I will not regard as such in the future. For instance, before this trip, obviously I knew that billions of people don't have access to running water in their homes. Everybody knows that. But until coming here I didn't have any acquaintances without it. I didn't know anybody who had never had the opportunity to go to school, either. After sharing laughs, meals, and pots of mint tea with great people whose circumstances and opportunities were so different from mine, I don't think I'll ever stop being aware of how fortunate I am.

Also, I learned very clearly that I am in the habit of using way more water, gasoline, energy, air conditioning, and heat than I really need. And I feel so guilty for wasting food, especially after being in the outdoor restaurants in Marrakesh, where hungry people ask you for what's left on your plate when you've finished your meal. I can't think of when I've ever felt more horrible. I will be more mindful of how I consume everything in the future.

I learned that there are still places where being a woman makes you a second-class citizen in the eyes of many people (and the law, in many cases). So many bright, funny, and talented women here have to settle for less than their dreams and talents and hard work could support. And their daily lives can be grindingly difficult. I will never forget watching a Berber woman bent almost in half struggling to carry a huge load of hay on her back, up a mountain road, while her husband rode the donkey in front of her. I don't think there's a woman anywhere in Morocco I'd trade places with, and until that starts to change, Morocco will never come close to fulfilling its potential.

If you're going to get lost someplace, do it in a Moroccan city's medina because everybody expects it of people from out of town, and usually you can make at least one or two friends who will get you back on course, with a good dollop of humor to go along with your directions. Frequently you'll also get a companion who insists on walking you to your destination to make sure you get there okay.

If you don't have time for a mint tea, you really need to stop and ask yourself why you're in such a big rush in the first place.

I can lift a 14 kg backpack onto a train's luggage shelf two feet above my head! :)

I am so much more resilient and self-reliant than I thought I was. This trip, particularly the past month, is going to enlarge my sense of what is possible for me to attempt, and it's helping me to learn that small failures aren't disasters. They just aren't. It's not that hard to brush oneself off and start over, using what you learned that didn't work on the first try. It may be frustrating, but frustration is just an emotion--it's not proof that what you're trying to do is impossible. I mess up all the time here, everything from the language to train schedules, and you know what? Every time I've done so, it's been fixable, and usually nobody else is watching or particularly cares. And even if they were, so what? Great lesson.

I can find lots of things in common with people whose lives seem completely different from mine and whose upbringings could hardly have been more unlike my own. And usually the more different they are from me, the more interesting the conversation is and the more I learn from them.

I am an introvert, and sometimes I'm so shy that it's painful to interact with people I don't know. But when I make the effort to reach out to somebody, it's almost always worth the initial discomfort.

People of goodwill and a good sense of humor can almost always figure out a way to get around any language barrier if it's important. Charades, laughter, and a smile can take you far. And there is something so great about sharing a laugh with somebody you can't speak with. It's like the two of you are in on a secret together.

Moroccans are some of the best conversationalists I've ever met. They almost always look you in the eye and aren't checking their cellphones while other people are talking. They give their time and undivided attention generously and with great good humor. I'm going to try really hard to emulate this habit of theirs.

Time spent in formal schooling has little to do with a person's intelligence.

Religious diversity in America helps keep us meaningfully free. The social pressure here to conform to Islamic religious practices is extreme, and besides being a burden for people who don't share the faith, I think that dilutes the beauty of the religious practice of the faithful. Because of the social rewards for being observant, people have a motive to practice their faith that doesn't have anything to do with God. Also, people here consider your faith their business, and I don't like that. I do like that, at least in my experience in the U.S., most of the time if somebody practices a religion, it is for their own reasons, and they leave you to practice yours (if any) as you see fit (or don't). Jehovah's Witnesses and Mormons knock on my door a couple of times a year, so those guys notwithstanding, I guess--but even they are polite when I thank them and send them on their way.

Food safety laws are really important. I've spent much of the past month with low-grade and sporadic bouts of higher-intensity GI problems because the food here isn't clean. It's so hot here, and every day in the souk, there are wooden carts piled high with sardines and shrimp sunbathing for hours prior to sale. Same goes for the meat and eggs. The smell is horrifying. That's why I also learned that I can get by pretty well as a vegan. I miss the FDA, flawed as it may be.

I wrote earlier about how much I learned about myself from being in Morocco. Morocco has also taught me so much about the United States, through contrast. I started writing a whose separate blog post on this subject and it's taking a lot of time and thought, so I'll post it in a day or two when it's ready. Suffice to say that I've learned to appreciate so many things about my country while I've been here, and my time here has also underscored the fact that we Americans don't have all the answers, that other societies have some great ideas and customs that are much different from ours. But I wouldn't swap passports with anybody.

I could keep going, but it's getting late and I need to get ready for my flight to Italy tomorrow. I can't believe that I'm feeling this but it's absolutely true: Morocco is so familiar now that I'm nervous about leaving my comfort zone here and going to Italy. I'm even ethnically half-Italian, but I'm still nervous about leaving Morocco for Italy. How messed up is that???

Ma'asalaamah, Morocco. Until next time, insha'allah. Next post will be from ROME!!!!