My adventure in Morocco ended not with a bang but with a whimper. I said goodbye to my host family, who were very sad to see me go and met up with the rest of my classmates to take a bus to the airport. The moment I got on the bus, a wave of nausea hit me. "It's probably just motion sickness," I reassured myself.
But no, it was Morocco's last revenge. Two hours into the bus ride at a bathroom stop I had to ask the driver to wait for me while I found a nice patch of grass to vomit on. I was doubled over on my knees cursing Morocco and quietly sobbing "Whyyyyyyyyyy????" After about 10 minutes I stood back up and got back in the van, sitting shotgun so that I could lean out of the open window.
Needless to say, the nearly 48 hours of travel was agonizing. I could barely walk from the nausea and simply hoped that I wouldn't vomit into the x-ray machine while going through security. It's really not worth remembering much else from that time. A good friend gave me some anti-nausea medicine which is probably the only reason I survived the ordeal (thanks again!).
So I'm back in the States, and I know that my last post was damn depressing, and I don't want to go out on that note. I've been thinking for weeks about how I would end this blog and I still don't really know. I would simply like to provide a few lessons I learned and conclusions I came to in the end that I hope will benefit the reader.
Lessons learned:
1. You will get sick if you visit Morocco. Is it worth it? Ask me after the nausea goes away for good.
2. Eat meat slowly and carefully. Moroccans leave all the bones in their meat (beef, chicken, fish) and if you go to a restaurant, it may not be properly cooked all the way through.
3. Know the price before you buy. KNOW the price before you buy. KNOW THE PRICE BEFORE YOU BUY. This applies to anything and everything: souvenirs, food, transportation, etc.
4. Carry exact change.
5. You will probably ignore or forget all of the above advice. That's OK. Throw yourself into the culture. Take risks. Get to know people. Make mistakes and make them big. Then don't make them again.
Conclusions:
1. While in Morocco, I've seen the best and worst of human nature on display. People cheat, lie, push, hit, yell, litter, you name it. But other Moroccans, especially my host family, have sacrificed for me, helped me more than I could ask, trusted me, talked to me, listened to me, laughed with me. There are so many times I was tempted to generalize and say, "Moroccans are shitty people" or "Moroccans are the most wonderful people I have ever met." In the end, I can't say either. They're complicated, like anyone else.
2. I still haven't figured out politics in Morocco. Everyone reads, watches, and discusses the news but political engagement is in the gutter. Does everybody really like the king? Are they complacent about politics? Are they cynical? Are they hopeless? Why do they seem to accept the status quo? More than one Moroccan has told me, in reference to the Arab Spring, "We don't want revolution in Morocco. We don't want violence. We want change through small and steady changes in the legal system." I absolutely understand their aversion to violence. But are peace and revolution compatible? Is bloodshed the price of liberty? I don't know. It's a scary question, and we may yet see it answered as the effects of the Arab Spring become apparent.
3. I never experienced culture shock while I was over there, except perhaps one time when I was in a taxi in heavy traffic in Casablanca. Does culture shock feel like the cold terror of impending death?
4. Notice how all my conclusions are questions? If I learned any one thing while I'm in Morocco it's how little I know. About the culture, the language, you name it. If you are a learner of Arabic, you will be shocked by two things: 1. How little Arabic you understand. 2. How much you can accomplish despite this.
There is so much that I experienced that I didn't get to write about in this blog. There is the time a retired security officer waved a SEAL Team 6 knife in my face to teach me about petty crime. There was the young boy wearing a shirt that read "ENLARGE YOUR PENIS." There was Jihad telling me all the rude English terms he knew: "She is such a MILF? Is that how you say it?" There was the day our class erupted into a jam session of singing, dancing, and clapping just because we were so stressed from exams. There was the time we explained the medical benefits of marijuana to our Moroccan professor. There was my host-uncle yelling at his kids: "Come here now! It's time to pray!" and them yelling back "Nooo! I want to play Super Mario!"
Thanks so much for joining me on this trip, you guys. I hope the next time you suddenly find yourself somewhere new, you'll make it an adventure. I know I really want to travel again. Not just to Morocco, but all over the Middle East. In fact, all over the world. Plans are in the making for the next travel blog.
But that's after this nausea goes away. Ya allah.
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