Morocco ~ Beyond Words

What can I even begin to tell you about this country? A picture is worth a thousand words, but none of them are the right ones to explain this beautiful country.

One Small Souq
photo: placid casual

It’s overwhelming at first. Everyone is shouting at you “you’re welcome in Morocco” and ushering you to their shop to drink their tea and see their carpets.

Donkeys, motorcycles, children, snakes and monkeys are coming at you from all angles and the strongest urge you have is to close your eyes from sensory overload.

But it doesn’t help, the sweet smell of fresh orange juice, the smoky fires from tajines, the stench of the butchers alley in the summer heat, the lure of the spice markets, and human sweat all mingle together, constantly in your nose, soaking themselves into your pores.
The heat, a sweltering 122 Fahrenheit, during the holy month of Ramadan is so unbelievably difficult to breathe that by the 9th day I have cracked lips and fever blisters on my body.

The people are as strong and sweet as the hot mint tea they are pleased to pour for you. The food is flavorful and fresh, and always

Everything about Morocco is delicious
photo: rudolf mittelmann

served with love. The best part about Moroccan food? You get to eat with your hands.

Look at the gorgeous tilework of the hamam, and hear the songs of women inside singing while scrubbing and massaging each other, until your eyes begin to burn with the sweat of your own brow and your backpack has melted itself onto your skin.

Only able to think about water. I want water. Now.

Water is sold, but it is Ramadan and it’s impossibly rude to drink cold water in front of thousands of thirsty, fasting, incredibly hot people.

I keep walking – looking for a sign of the riad I am supposed to be staying in. Swat away the flies around your feet only to learn its sweat from your legs dripping down your ankles.

Ah, the smell of the Berber crepe, look at the hands of the woman stained red from flattening out crepes all day and night, dripping the red oil from her palms onto the dough, and working it into a flat bread of perfection. Just 3 dirham could buy one, but it’s Ramadan, so you keep walking.

Finally to find the Riad, paying a fair price ensures you will not have a fan, but at least you will have somewhere to sleep. Besides, it’s too hot to sleep until 3 or 4am anyways. Take an ice cold shower, scrubbing every inch of your body and hoping to feel clean for the rest of the day. By the time your clothes are back on, you are sweaty again.

If this sounds exhausting to every faculty you have, you have understood- however, it is also amazing and exhilarating.

The genuinely warm welcome I have received from strangers, inviting me to their house for breakfast, to their parents’ house for tea, people who take me by the hand to lead me when I am lost and spray my face with water during the day when I am hot. Morocco is gorgeous, inside and out, and I cannot wait to return to this magic.