Morocco (Part 3)

Early Saturday morning, we said our goodbyes to our awesome host family and prepared to leave Rabat. Before beginning the journey into the Rif Mountains, we took a quick look around a beautiful Arabic mausoleum. The current King’s father and grandfather’s remains reside here.

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Life in urban Morocco is very different from life in the rural countryside. The passage from the city into the rural areas was dramatic- we had left a first-world country for that of a third-world developing nation. Poverty remains largely a rural phenomenon too: almost one Moroccan out of four is poor in rural areas compared to one out of ten in urban areas. Although the rural population represents 46% of the total population, 66% of the poor live in rural areas.

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Deep in the countryside, we took a short hike through a mountain village to eat lunch with a local family. The views were breathtaking. Once there, we were greeted by an elderly mother and daughter with couscous and tea. With the help of a translator who accompanied us, we had a candid and honest conversation with the women about education, the simplicity of life, and economic challenges of rural areas in Morocco. Without the presence of a man in the home, the women openly spoke of the ills of arranged marriage and the traditional/sexist expectations and roles of women in the household. The mother had lived in the village for the majority of her life- a village without electricity until 2006.
Talking with the women was a moving experience. Despite the language barrier, they were so sweet and cheerful. They had hosted lunches for American students on the Morocco Exchange trip before and said we were all so beautiful; the mother later hugged me so tight, it was one of the most genuine embraces I’ve ever had. I almost started to tear up. I’ll alway remember that. A grandma is a grandma across the world.
It’s difficult for me to describe the emotions I experienced driving through the villages and eating with the family. I have never been to a developing nation and witnessed first-hand the stark differences between my life and theirs. It prompted me to reconsider my values and priorities- the things that I take for granted. Why am I so fortunate? What things really matter in my life? How can I help?
But at the end of the day when we are stripped of our material things, we are all people. We feel, we love, we hope- we all seek the same intangible things of life. With the recent passing of my father, a wave of raw emotions and realizations surfaced while in Morocco, more so than I expected. Life is short and I want to live a life I’m proud of. I want to continue traveling the world and live continuing exploring the outskirts of my comfort zone. I want to learn, learn, learn- soak up every encounter and allow the people & the places of the world affect me.
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After the lunch and a short drive, we arrived in the gorgeous town of Chefchaouen situated at the foot of the Rif Mountains; Chefchaouen literally translates to “look at the peaks” in Arabic. It is an enchanting little place with fresh mountain air and a tranquil ambiance. The well-preserved medina is a 15th century relic from the Muslim civilization of Andalusia (southern Spain).
The picturesque medina, set against the dramatic backdrop of the Rif Mountains, is filled with white-washed homes with distinctive, powder-blue accents, and the call to prayer rings out of several mosques around the town in chorus. Streets weave throughout the town lined with friendly and welcoming artisans and shop owners. Chefchaouen is a great place to shop- especially for woven rugs and blankets of bright colors. If only I had the luggage space to bring some home. Next time..
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