Missing Morocco

Morocco = Cats, Cats Everywhere

Almost two months after planning out the remainder of my blogs, I have finally decided to wrap up my summarizing thoughts on my time in Morocco. I've just read an article on an American Peace Corps volunteer about what she wishes Americans knew about Morocco, and I loved how she encompassed every aspect perfectly. Recently, when I have been telling people that I studied abroad in Morocco for a semester, they ask about traveling there, how it was, whether I felt safe, how different it must be to be living in Belgium now, etc. Explaining all of this while all they are actually looking for is a travel recommendation is quite complex, and I don't want to give anyone the false hope that they will have the most exquisite exotic adventure while spending a weekend in Marrakesh or Casablanca, because honestly, it will be different for any American who has never left the western hemisphere (including Japan and China). Chances are, most people would probably be disappointed by just traveling to Morocco for a weekend unless you really know what to expect. Of course, I had wonderful weekend experiences all semester long, but that's because I could look past the culture shock associated with such a short stay. Of course, there was culture shock by the end of the semester, but it meant being able to look past people yelling at me to stop in their stores, buy drugs, being sexually harassed, and being flat out stared at no matter where I went or what I was wearing, I hope that the previous entries I have posted have kind of given an idea of my transformation over the semester, but if not, I wish to do so know, as well as convey what Morocco means to me, how grateful I am for this past semester, as well as some lessons that I learned along the way. Inshallah, this may even inspire you to travel to Morocco and give you a better idea of what to expect so you will be able to look past the negative effects of culture shock.

First of all, I'm still not quite sure what inspired me to plunge straight into the study experience with Morocco. In hindsight, it would have made a lot more sense to come to Belgium first, then follow up with Morocco. Baby steps, right? That's what one would expect since my travel history has been western Europe, move out to Roanoke, move to Washington D.C. (note, I was still living in the same state I had always lived in when at Roanoke as well as for when I was in "D.C."), central Europe. I cannot explain how glad I am that Morocco came first, though. First of all, I'm sure this semester's group of AUI study abroaders are awesome, but I made some of the best friends I could ever wish to meet. I can only thank the complexity of destiny for bringing us all together. Secondly, living in a country as different from my background as Morocco boosted my confidence exponentially. It was the first time I had traveled by myself, had to track down luggage, and in general, just had so much responsibility. I had to figure out how to get around a country where a very small fraction of the population speaks English. Luckily, a generous amount speak French, but for an American, that doesn't help too much, especially since I am nowhere near where I should be for my seventh year of French. Aside from that, the main language is Arabic, which is uncomprehendingly difficult at times. I would be proud of myself being able to sound out road signs. Generally, in foreign countries, you may be able to find your way if you can read signs that have the Latin alphabet, but being thrown into a country where everything is spelled with a different set of letters is rather intimidating until you get the hang of it. Additionally, I refused to pay insane prices for using my phone, so most of the time, i was disconnected from the flow of communication. Imagine being in a foreign city where you don't even speak a language using the same letters as the national mothertongue, and not being able to pull up Maps. Typically, most places also did not have (functioning) wi-fi, which added to the difficulties. These are just a few of the things that have transformed me into a productive traveler as well as a functioning, resourceful adult (?-I just kind of refuse to accept it).

I also learned how to live in a culture that is completely different than what I am use to. Like I said earlier, short term culture shock is much different than that of long term. I was able to accept that on my way to the marche, I would probably be harassed multiple times, but would still be able to enjoy a glass of tea when I got there. In the last couple of blogs, I address what the more negative effects of living in Morocco and not being Moroccan. You definitely stand out. One night, I was relentlessly harassed at my favorite restaurant in the marche by a guy about m age listening to an iPhone, and insisting that I give him money. As this whole thing was going on, and I continuously shouted at him to leave and imply he wasn't getting anything, the entire restaurant stared at my friend and me, but of course, no one came to help. On the other hand, I once had a storekeeper pay someone off to leave me alone.

There's a lot of focus on women's studies in Morocco because of the connotation that Islamic societies are by definition feminine suppressors, which is not true at all. Yes, the case for women can and should be improved in Morocco, but also the rest of the world. There was a huge focus of the family code reform in 2004 during many of my class lectures. This proves that Morocco isn't as oppressive as people would generally think. The King as well as the government recognize the contributions female citizens make to society and the need to expand women's rights. That being said, though, I was able to make realizations about my own life. In Morocco, children born out of wedlock, up to very recently (and even know, there is no real clear procedure on handling each case), have been regarded as sub-citizens, if one can even describe them as that. Without a father, which is synonymous to being born out of wedlock, Moroccan children are at risk for not receiving a family book, which means that governmental services are not extended to them. No identification. Impossible to register for school. Difficulty in finding even menial jobs. Impossible to purchase a car (yes, you even have to list your family history to buy a car). When signing up for my residency permit, I was often afraid I would be rejected due to the fact that I did not have a name to fill in.  I often thought about how different my life would be being born in such a system under the same circumstances. Often, fatherless children are also mocked and excluded from society. The ideas of paternity in Islam are very complicated, which makes it very difficult in a multitude of situations including adoption, but it's all very complicated, and I'm afraid I would not even be able to scratch the surface of its importance.

I was lucky enough to live in a very nice town, and attend the "Harvard of Morocco," which meant that I was not subjected to the complete poverty of some parts of the country, but it definitely exists. My professor often spoke about how the average income in the country was 3000 Dirhams, roughly $300. This means that there is a huge population that makes less than this, as there are also many wealthy families. It's definitely a problem, but no where near what poverty in the United States is like. My professor would often say that many people often didn't realize they were poor because it's just an acceptance of how things are.

I'm going to actually steal my next and final point from my friend Anamaria. One night walking back from the marche, she explained how usually people feel more independent after completing a semester abroad, but how Morocco had alternatively made her more dependent. To a point, I completely agree. Usually, I am a very independent person, doing things for myself. Apparently, there are some pretty funny stories of me when I was little spilling Kool-Aid everywhere because a very insistent Emily knew she could do it "me-self." However, in Morocco, I bean depending on friends to go places with me, as I would not travel alone, or for friends who spoke Arabic or better French to bargain or ask questions. Sometimes, it is necessary to take the backseat, or learning to compromise in finding people to do things with. In America, if I ever wanted to go somewhere, I never had to worry about going out by myself. If I need something, I'm completely capable of finding my way there at whatever time, and being able to ask for directions or help if necessary.

However, Morocco made me very independent. I feel like at this point, I can definitely do anything I put my mind to, as the experiences and lessons I have learned are so important for critical thinking and planning in all situations, especially traveling. I wouldn't say I'm able to travel quite anywhere because there are still countless issues in the world that can't be resolved too easily, but I do feel more confident in my capabilities of traveling alone and with others. Morocco was a great experience, and I can never fully encompass everything I want to say when someone asks how my semester abroad was-it's very complex, and even after countless stories and conversations, I still think about it differently daily. Irregardless, Morocco was just one of the few places that I have called home in my entire life, and I don't use that term loosely.