There are some days where I love this country and other days when I strongly dislike it… 

Story: Today Kate wahid, Emily, Caroline, and I were walking back from the bank. There was a guy next to me sniffing mint leaves and when I say sniffing I mean shoving up his nose…  which I thought was odd in the first place. The next thing I know he is talking to us and following us. I figured it was a typical old Moroccan man but before you would know it his voice is raised and has his hands on Caroline. She starts yelling “fuck off” and he continues, by this time people in the street notice what is going on and tell him to stop. He starts yelling at them (I assume about us) and people are just telling him to go away. It was so embarrassing because we started a huge scene in the street, the guys here always make it seem like we did something wrong. 

It just amazes me how some men act in Morocco, it isn’t all of them but it is enough to piss me off. Today’s encounter gave me a good idea for my ISP. I am going to do an experiment to see if Moroccan men act differently when I am dressed completely Moroccan. Idea is still in progress but we’ll see. 

So I haven’t really done an awesome job of explaining what exactly I am doing in Morocco, so I thought since I only have 5 weeks left it was about time. 

The program I am doing is SIT Multiculturalism and Human Rights (MOR), it takes place in Rabat, Morocco but we have travelled all over Morocco on our own and with our program. The first week in Morocco we were living in Hotel Majestic which at the time seemed far from Majestic. The second week of the program we met our host family which we live with until April 17. The first couple of weeks of home-stay were pretty rough and I didn’t really like it, but the more time I spend with my family the more I don’t want to leave them. 

The Program
The first week was just orientation, after that we started Arabic classes and had a week of a mandatory class for everyone in MOR it has been so long I honestly don’t even remember what is was about. The second week was yet another mandatory lecture for MOR students. AFter those two weeks were up we were allowed to sign up for the classes we want for the next three weeks. Each week offered three various options. The first week I took Moroccan Art, second week Youth & Family, and I just finished Changes in North Africa. I know, all those options sound super interesting however they were dry and seemed slightly pointless. My classes are a joke. Arabic goes from 8:30- 12:00 Monday- Friday, it goes bye pretty fast though it is intense. 
This is my last week of Arabic class then I begin planning my Independent Study Project (ISP).

ISP
ISP is a project we conduct on our own. We can live anywhere in Morocco and write about anything we want. We have about three weeks to write it and at the end we have a presentation and turn in a 20-40 page paper.SIT gives us 100 MD (Moroccan Dihram) a day.  I will be living in Marrakech and researching the Influence on Westernized Fashion for Moroccan women. I am pretty excited about this project, a lot of my friends are nervous which is understandable but this is what I have been waiting for. 

The People
The title of the post refers to the three girls who I have grown close with over the semester: Emily, Caroline, and Lilie. We have experienced so much together, highs and lows that we decided (after drinking too much sangria and tequila shots) “Sisterhood of the Traveler’s Diarrhea fitted perfectly. There are some people in our program that I really like, but others I can’t stand. 

The Moroccan Men
Yes, this deserves it’s own sub-title. The Moroccan men are ridiculous. 

(via ravishings)

Last week at this time I was in a bus headed to a “town” east of Casablanca I wasn’t sure what to expect but I knew whatever was to come my way would be a challenge, since I’m not really one for camping or farms. I remember looking out the window and seeing miles of rolling hills covered with wildflowers that came in a rainbow of colors, I thought that it wouldn’t be that bad as long as the village was in a beautiful place. 

The landscape of the village exceeded my expectations, however I was not prepared to be living in a compound that Alcatraz was modeled after. The walls of my house were made out of concrete, the only decoration on the walls was a cell phone, they hang it because that is the only way to get service in the middle of nowhere. I was living with a mom, a 22 year old girl, and a 15 year old girl. The 15 year old went to school about an hour away so I only spent two nights with her. The man of the family lived in the mountains in order to herd sheep. The first meal was refa covered with oil along with sugar water that had a little bit of tea added to it. My house had four separate rooms none of which had electricity, there was a kitchen, eating area, bedroom, and a room full of bunnies (which they didn’t show me until the last day). *Note how there is no bathroom, yes, the bathroom was the wilderness. We had a poop courtyard, but no place was off limits to use. The first day my sister followed me around everywhere, we bonded while going to the bathroom, changing clothes, and walking to find cell phone service. The next day my younger sister left for school in the city so I was stuck with “the drunken house elf” and the sister who only were pink velvet, I didn’t get along with either of them, both of them would speak to me in fast Moroccan Arabic (Darja) and get frustrated that I had no idea what they were saying, I tired to use my Fus’ha but they didn’t understand that so needless to say there were lots of awkward silences, ma fahenmsh-s, and me being a bitch to them in English. Fortunately there were other SIT students living in my compound, all of our families were related in one way or another, our compound was full of insist but to them it was just part of life. The students living around me weren’t really people I had spent much time with so it was nice to hang out with a different crowd. Monday we went on a hike through the mountains which was a pain in the ass but incredible, it was hot, long, and annoying because of all the rocks and uphill paths we took, but it felt good to reach our end goal about an hours drive away from where we started. I haven’t done much hiking and I’m not sure how much I will do in the future but one time won’t kill me. When I got home the mom I was living with demanded I take a nap, so I went and laid down on the concrete floor in which I had been sleeping on, I did not want to go to sleep but my mom watched me to make sure I did, I eventually got so frustrated I pretended to go to sleep so she would leave, once she left so did I, which worked out in my favor because I got showered by my host cousin… Throughout the week I had many frustrating encounters with my host mother, she could not remember my name she kept calling me Uke, I shortened my name to Nic to make it easier for her but she still could not get my name down until the last night which was fine. My week consisted of a whole lot of nothing, we did manuel labor at a school but other than that I laid in the field of wildflowers, sang to myself and bonded with my fellow Americans. 

I learned a lot this past week, so much that I am having a hard time putting it into words. There is so much that I want to express but nobody could know what it was like unless that experienced it first hand. They live in a completely different world, a world that has boundaries and limitations not that my life doesn’t but their lives seem so planned out, it seems as if each day is the same whereas my days are spontaneous and unpredictable. There a few people in the village that leave, few people that have ever travelled outside of Casablanca, and few people who can read and write. There is so much that I would love to do to help the villagers but I don’t have the means to whatsoever. There lives seem so boring compared to mine, for the week I was there all I could think about was coming back into the city. I don’t see how people could live the way they do, but I guess if you don’t know anything different then you have nothing to compare it to. I think the hardest part about being away from civilization was not really know what was going on in the world. There were two families in our compound that had a black and white TV but there isn’t internet, or newspapers. I can deal with not showering, not having electricity, and not having a bed to sleep in but I felt lonely out there. I felt like I was on a completely different planet, anything could be going on and I wouldn’t know.

A week in a rural Moroccan village- I can officially cross that off my bucket list.  
Spending a week away from facebook, shopping, and orange juice- I can officially cross that off my bucket list.
Being homesick for Rabat- I can officially cross that off my bucket list.
Pooping in a flower field- I can officially cross that off my bucket list. 

This week I’m planning on doing some shopping because I’m shipping some stuff back to the states, I will also be studying Arabic because I only have ten more classes left. 

Only 43 days left in Morocco, let’s make em’ count. 
Ma Salama!  

Well I guess it’s about time I update my blog, mainly because I’m procrastinating writing a paper… my only assignment thus far. 

I’m currently sitting in a cafe, listening to the same song over and over, reflecting on past events and what the future has to offer. 

I absolutely love Morocco, but it’s not easy being here. For those of you who don’t know I’m living in a “house” with six people. I sleep on a couch in the “prayer” room, I share the room with my aunt. I have no door. There is one bathroom between the 6 of us and there is no western toilet, no western shower, and I still have yet to figure out the laundry situation. I don’t understand how my family can go a week without showering (when they need to bathe they go to the hammam. I guess that is one major cultural difference. Living with a Morocco also makes it hard to have alone time, and to sleep in, please don’t get my wrong I absolutely love it here but there are challenges. 

Last weekend was fez, so so awesome I love it there. The leather, the food, the scenery. Pictures are posted on my facebook. 

In regards to the revolutions and what is going on Egypt and other parts of the Middle East. Nobody in Morocco is sure what will happen, there was a facebook group created for a protest that is scheduled for Sunday, but I’m not sure what to expect. There was currently 10,000 people RSVPed and they said for every person attending there would be two more. Once again I don’t know what would happen is Morocco were to reach the point in which other countries are at. It’s scary but exciting. From my point of view most Moroccan seem happy, they like the king but HATE the government. There are tons of issues Morocco has but I don’t think it’s nearly as bad as other countries. I think if Moroccans wanted change now would be the time to do it. 

I really need to start writing more

Today the walk to school was very nice, I listen to the xx and just took everything in. I absolutely love it here and I’m adapting pretty well. I feel like each day goes by so fast but it does feel like I’ve been here forever. 

Wow, I can’t believe I’ve been in Rabat for a week! It is absolutely surreal to me… so much has happened I don’t even know where to begin. 

Sunday- Arrived in Morocco, got assigned rooms at the hotel, walked around Rabat, survived the airplane ride from Madrid to Casa that only had 20 people on it, ate my first Moroccan meal, went to bed early 

Monday and Tuesday are  kind of a blur, I don’t remember specifics but I got a Moroccan phone, got asked to have an orgy in french, got meowed at, 
Monday- 
Tuesday
Wednesday- last shower I took, experienced Moroccan night life for the first time 
Thursday- met my host family, had a ton of awkward moments with them, found out I would be using a turkish toilet and sleeping on a couch for the next 8 weeks, carried my bags through the medina and ended up taking a cab about 20ft, 

Friday- last day or orientation, ate couscous (my favorite meal so far), went shopping and overpaid for a scarf, found so many handbags and pairs of shoes I want to buy, hung out with my family at night and had an awesome time, laid in bed and started “Room”, after dinner my family surprised me and bought me this closet thing.. the little things matter the most 
Saturday- walked around the French part of the city, ate pizza for lunch, then american food for dinner at TGI Fridays, went to a cafe to watch soccer, learned how to say cuss words in Arabic, ordered my OJ in Arabic, got offered to smoke, hung out with boys, I lived up to the American stereotype, covered my hair for the first time and got more attention than usual, 
Sunday  

I love those few moments of the day in which I am relaxed and not in a panic about leaving.. or at least about the flight. 

Well it is all really starting to hit me, I guess I never thought my last day in Texas would ever come. Tomorrow I plan on waking up late, getting my nails done, having lunch with Ellery, then pack and have dinner with my parents and some close family friends. I am so incredibly nervous about all of this. It was so nice when this was all a dream and I could just keep counting the months until I left, but now.. now it is down to a matter of hours less than 40 hours until I leave Texas for 4 months. Please don’t get me wrong I am so excited about this life changing trip and I know it is something I need to do and I will love it once I get there.. it’s just the fear of the unknown that have been taking over my nerves this week.