"The culture here is an Interesting one!"

After having arrived to Morocco I realized plenty of different things right upfront, one of those things being "the culture here is an interesting one!" I had heard many mixed reviews about Morocco and North African countries in general. So I was pleased to be on the fan based side of things. Although this would be a short trip I wanted to make the most and really indulge in the differences here. American media has done a good job at making Muslim people and their cultures seem extreme and insignificant all at once. So I wanted to visit a country where I could asses my own opinion.

The city of Marrakesh is a booming one, traffic everywhere but no stop lights in sight anywhere. It had occurred to me on the way to my hostel that we were in Ramadan so I was curious as to how that would affect my trip. As soon as I got off the bus I saw people breaking out into fights and arguments in every stop along the way I thought "hmm here is a group of riled up individuals" when it had not registered that maybe just maybe everyone was riled up from the lack of food through out the day. Then on the walk to the hostel I was almost ran over twice by speeding motorcycles. I wanted to at least survive the first day of my trip, therefore this would require my full and undivided attention when ever I would walk somewhere.

After checking into my very cozy hostel which had a great feel to it, I ventured out solo to get some dinner. I was going to give myself just two rules when it came to food here in Morocco: 1. No tap water, and 2. No meat in my meals. So I was on the prowl for the best cooked vegetable meals. But the first thing I realized once I walked back out of the hostel was the most bizarre thing from when I entered. There was a calmness in the streets after the sun had gone down. The busy busting of the earlier sun was gone, men where not hollering my way or even at each other. It was peaceful in the streets as I made my way to the restaurant.

I got a sense of how the Moroccans got down after 7:30pm once they were allowed to eat, then and only then did it occur to me why it was so calming and peaceful in the streets, when people are to busy with food in their mouths all at once...well there's no one left to make the noise. At the restaurant the nearby groups of Muslim people enjoying their dinners were so nice, with tables filled with huge amounts of food, a guy walked over to me when he saw I was still food-less and offered me one of the extra smoothies at the table. Being my uptight nervous American self I politely denied the man thinking "never leave your drink unattended and definitely never take a drink from a stranger" but the gesture made my day.

When I got back to my hostel I found my favorite thing about vacationing alone begin to occur...I made my first set of friend. These two adorable sweet sisters who were from all over Europe. I say all over because they were born in Scotland, Raised in Greece and currently living in Barcelona as a Ceramic professor and Linguist. And yes they spoke at least 3 to 4 languages each! Since it was Ramadan we were forced to not go out for a drink but mint tea. My poor poor sober soul.

We spent the evening shopping, enjoying food and getting to know one another and the only thing I could think to myself was how lucky I was to be in such an interesting place with even more interesting people. I felt oddly blessed... The next day at breakfast I said goodbye to the sweet Scottish pair and said hello to my new set of 6 Portuguese friends whom I would spend the rest of vacation with.

We traveled the city together, ate dinner, smoke hookah, went on our excursions together. I quickly began to love this warm group of individuals. All from different parts of Portugal, speaking multiple languages, and working different jobs. They group even met on their trip to Morocco, it was like destiny had brought me to meet these people for a reason. The best part was that I was given something I had been missing this whole summer in Paris, a piece of home...we spoke plenty Spanish, they were loud and funny and if it weren't for the random blurts in a language I could not speak I would have thought these people were even Puerto Rican's. It was truly great, we even went hiking to the mountains of Orika Valley and ate lunch on the river...yes tables seats and all were soaked and I was happier than ever to be in my scenario.

At the end of my trip we all said sad and happy goodbyes...they were my little Portuguese family and I promised next time we all met I would be visiting them in Portugal!