Ok. Let me break down my trip to Morocco for you.

We made a trip down to Rabat first to stay with our great Fulbright friend. She used to live in Madrid for the first half of her grant, and now she is spending some time in Rabat to work on her PhD dissertation. Anyhow, we spent a few days in Rabat under her most generous care and hospitality. Than we ventured off on our own to Marrakech for a couple of days. We ran around and came back to Rabat to spend a chill night with some other Fulbrighters. We then went to Casablanca the next morning to catch our flight back to Madrid.

I can’t even begin to describe the adventure we had. I’ll split them into mini-sections.

“Look at all the Christians!”
One of my favorite things we did in Morocco was visit our friend’s Moroccan friends and being invited to eat cous cous in their home for lunch. Couscous is usually only eaten on Fridays in the house with your family. They bring out a gigantic bowl full of couscous covered with vegetables, meat, and beans (It was SO GOOD.) and everyone eats out of that bowl with spoons.
So, we were invited to this great lunch and had the pleasure of meeting the youngest daughter of this adorable Moroccan family. She was 9 years-old and possibly the cutest 9 year-old I have ever. My fellow traveler Janet HATES children with a passion (although she is a TA like me) and she developed a soft spot for this kid, although she did describe her as “the most disgustingly cute kid ever.”
After lunch, we went out for a walk along the ocean with this girl and ended up in a chi-chi café where only foreigners go, and also where you can sip Moroccan tea right next to a great view of the river. We had our tea and pastries while the little girl was getting her sugar fix with Coca-cola. Suddenly, a mob of German tourists came into the café and the little girl squeals something in Arabic. Our friend then translates, “She just said ‘OHHHHHH, Look at all the Christians!!’” We just busted out laughing. “Yeah, the word Christian is basically becoming synonymous with the word foreigner.” Needless to say, that was a running line for the rest of the trip. When we were in Marrakech, we got lost looking for some monuments and found some Anglo-Saxon European tourists. We shouted, “Follow the Christians! Follow the Christians!” and found our destination.


Orange juice.


This is just a simple comment, but Morocco has the best fresh-squeezed orange juice for the cheapest price. It’s about 25 cents, and you get it squeezed right in front of you in these stands that are all over the place. They’re cold and thirst-quenching, which I usually don’t find in juice. I miss it already. When we were in Marrakech, I quickly made friends with a particular stand (despite my limited Arabic and French, which collectively comes out to about 5 words), and by the end of our stay, they were giving us free glasses of orange juice.


Robot in Rabat

So, basically, since the moment we found out that our friend was going to live in a place called Rabat, my group of friends and I were obsessed with the idea of doing the Robot in Rabat. It’s not a lie to say that a significant percentage of our desire to go to Rabat came from our need to do the Robot in Rabat. And here is a proof that we, indeed, did complete our mission. Naturally, we had an audience when the picture was taken.

So that, in a nut-shell, was Morocco. It was fabulous. I bought some pretty shoes and had some great food and company. Now, I’m back in Madrid ready to relax for the rest of the week until school starts again on Tuesday. Everyone has been telling me that after Semana Santa, the school year ends in a flash. We’ll see how fast it all goes.

look at my pretty shoes.

PEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAACE.