Headed Down South

I’m on the bus home from our first excursion, and my head is spinning from all we’ve done.  In the past seven days, I have stopped in around a dozen villages, towns, and cities in the southern part of Morocco.  Considering the country’s small size, our trip has required a surprising amount of time in transit, probably around 30 hours total, but the long trips have provided time to absorb the surrounding scenery.  Morocco’s size doesn’t limit its topography; in fact, the range of landscapes likely surpasses that of the U.S.  We’ve journeyed from the ocean-side capitol city to the Saharan dunes in under 48 hours, and from there to deep river gorges, snow-capped mountain ranges, and verdant agricultural valleys. 

A snowy drive through the Middle Atlas Mountains

The cultural range has been equally as diverse.  Through stops at various NGOs along the road, we’ve had a chance to interact with some of the advocates for women’s rights and education and learn more about change in the region.  As our route has taken us through some of the country’s least populated areas, we’ve also seen some of the poorest villages and their people.  Then, only hours later, we would arrive in cities like Marrakech and Essaouira, where we blended with the other Western tourists being wooed by insistent shopkeepers.  As one of our academic directors aptly noted, Morocco is a country of contrasts, both geographically and economically, and our excursion served its purpose in reinforcing that idea.

Rainy marketplaces of Marrakech

With so much time on the go, it has been difficult to process all that I’ve seen.  Gazing upon the rural villages, I have to wonder what the lives of those who live there are like.  On the edge of the Sahara, we drove through one section of sandy homes where women and men perched on their doorsteps, seeming to wait for the day to pass.  There can’t be any agricultural profit here, so it begs to question what people do all day.  Apparently, the lucky ones own camels, which they can rent to tour companies like the one that led us on our sunset ride through the dunes.  Schools exist, but they are scarce, and parents are often reluctant to send children who might contribute to the household.  Apart from the obvious socioeconomic difference between these country people and city dwellers, there is also a distinctive cultural divide.  Often, rural people are of Berber, not Arab, background, which means that they speak a different language and share separate customs from people like my host family.  I wish that I had more time to interact with the people in places like this, but we seemed to move on as quickly as we had arrived.  In several weeks, we will have an opportunity to spend a week in a rural village in the north, which I hope will provide more insight into the lives of these Moroccans.

The harbor in the beach town of Essaouira

Apart from the subsistence lifestyles we saw in the rural areas, it also seemed that urban poverty had a more conspicuous presence.  Of course, you don’t have to travel far in any city to notice hardship, and our home base of Rabat is no exception.  More so than in the U.S., it seems that physical disabilities contribute to people’s destitution, and it’s difficult to say what the government is doing in response.  Maybe it was because I spent so much of this trip as a tourist that the people on the street weighed heavier on me.  It feels difficult to approach this issue from my position of privilege.  Morocco’s overall economic condition isn’t as dismal as that of many developing countries, but seeing the people who live in need has reminded me of my place as a global citizen, related to each person I encounter through our mutual humanity.

Sunrise over the Sahara

Like many other experiences in this region, this trip had its challenging aspects, and I’m sure that I will continue to reflect on them as we learn about Morocco.  It also carried moments of immense awe—7 AM sunrises over Saharan sand, strolls through the late Yves St. Laurent’s vibrant gardens, rain-filled journeys through Marrakech’s winding souk (and the resulting 30-minute bartering exchange for my new Berber carpet), and cups of mint tea shared over growing friendships.  Already, nearly a third of my time in Morocco is over, and I can only imagine how quickly the remainder will fly.  I’m just trying to absorb all that I can, and I have a lot to look forward to in the next few weeks, including a class segment on religion in Morocco and another excursion.