Just a little introduction about my time in this beautiful country full of surprises and endless tagines (delicious slow-cooked stews with vegetables and spices - my dinner almost every night!). When I first stepped out of the airport, I was a messy mix of being disoriented, exhausted from over 2 days of travel time, and far too much adrenaline. The feeling of being so tired and sleep deprived that you've gone around the bend into giddiness. It took me a good while to find the taxi driver that the volunteer organization had sent to pick me up and I can't describe that feeling of relief when I finally saw a man holding up a crinkled sign with my name scrawled across it. I had attempted to call the phone number the volunteer organization left for me in case I could not locate the driver and was met with some sort of automated message in Arabic that I could not understand. I guessed it could have been anything from "This number is out of service" to "The voicemail box of this individual is full." I'd already realized from the airport signs and PA announcements that my rusty high school French wasn't going to get me very far. As you might expect, the taxi driver and I did not have a common language or even common few words and resorted to relying on several awkward gestures. I guess that marked the beginning of the adventure!
The lovely African sun had me drenched in sweat just from following the taxi driver to his cab and this taxicab looked easily like a vehicle from the 80s. It was about a 25 minute ride across town into the medina or "Old City" where the volunteer accommodation was located. This was up to that moment in my life, the most intense taxi ride I'd ever experienced. To my eyes, the traffic appeared to be a free-for-all with people using car horns in place of their brakes. We passed by a circus with camel ride offerings in the front as you see on the left above. I stared out the window at many gorgeous red sandy coloured buildings and the contrast between the glamourous hotels and shops in some neighbourhoods and the rundown areas with piles of rubble. I was extremely grateful that I had chosen a flight with an afternoon arrival time because it would have been quite unnerving to walk down the narrow alleyways of the medina trying to find the accommodation in the dark. I could hardly believe that down this tiny alleyway and through a rundown wooden door, there was a colourful two-story volunteer house with a stunning courtyard but there it was.
Once inside, I was greeted by the most lovely and friendly volunteer coordinators who were locals from Marrakesh. I was shown my room which was shared with 3 other volunteers and the general living space. A kind and enthusiastic woman speaking no English, gestured animatedly and brought me a pot of savoury sweet Moroccan mint tea. She ignored the fact that I couldn't make out a single Arabic word she was saying and continued to chat excitedly and smile in a kind and motherly way at me. It was during these early moments that I recognized the genuine hospitality and love that I was surrounded by and it warmed my heart.
I had my first meal in Morocco on the second floor of a small restaurant with a view overlooking the action in the square. Of-course it was roasting hot since AC is a rare luxury here. Nonetheless, I loved my first vegetable tagine and the soft fresh bread. Afterwards, we stopped at a lounge with belly dancer performers and promised ourselves we'd come back on another night for food and drinks. We went for a brief stroll on the outskirts of the souks. The souks are winding mazes of markets filled with spices, carpets, clothing, you name it! We then retired back to the riad to prepare for a full day of volunteer projects the following day.
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Morocco,
Travel
