So after about two weeks in Morocco I have succumbed to blog life because I have honestly never been in a place so unique and filled with contrasting images before. I am within walking distance of the Atlantic and a beautiful river, but I am also deep within the Old Medina of Rabat. I can confidently say at this point that I can locate home, even if I am not taking the fastest route there. While this may not seem like such a huge accomplishment, I would say that I’m pretty proud of myself. Most of the streets look painfully similar.
I’m struck by how I can be so comfortable and so lost in
this city: I can’t tell if I have been here a month or a day. Some things I am
getting the hang of: I finally learned how to get to the atlantic without
cutting through a cemetery; I have learned which parts of the produce market
street that I take to my house smell the worst (surprisingly, the fish section
smells the best) and I have found the nutella.
At the same time I tried today to go Salsa dancing in Agdal
(which is a more modern subset of Rabat) and I struggled. Not only did I get the day and time wrong, but I also
got lost on my way home. Oops.
There does not seem to be a differentiation here between
strong and fat. And I repeatedly learn this when my host mom tries to make eat my fourth piece of bread to make me
strong. And she does not seem to
understand that I will gain absolutely no muscle by eating white bread.
Also this is the tea I anticipate having every day for the rest of my time here.
It has been a mix of classes, daily life and touring, but I'll leave you with some pictures from my first couple weeks
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