Day 1:
It was lucky that I checked out of the Hotel Darna early because the hotel only accepted cash payments (something I had asked about earlier, but had been misinformed). I tried six ATMS before I found one that would dispense any money. Once I had settled with the hotel, which was very accommodating during this process, it was time to head to orientation at Thaqafat.
Thaqafat means culture in Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic. Thaqafat is also the name of the non-profit organization that provides on-the-ground support for UBELONG volunteers here in Morocco. Although UBELONG connects international volunteers to service projects worldwide, Thaqafat is the Moroccan organization that arranges the details of our host-stay, meets with us formally every week and offers us day-to-day support.
My first twelve hours in Morocco had been stressful: almost missing my flight, arriving without any luggage, searching for a working ATM and lacking internet access because my electronic chargers were in my missing suitcase. Now, I was worried I would not be able to find the Thaqafat office, and I had no phone to call the organization if I got lost. The hotel proprietor was not familiar with the organization, but he recognized the street name. He pointed me in the right direction and told me to turn left at the third street after the major intersection. From there, I asked another man, who told me to continue straight ahead, but after a few more blocks I started to worry that I had somehow missed the building. Again, I asked another stranger on the street. He turned to an older man with stooped shoulders and said something in Darija. The older man, who did not speak any French, beckoned me to follow him. He led me right to the doorstep of the Thaqafat office, which had only a small plaque that I would have definitely walked right by without a second thought! Although some difficult circumstances had made my first few hours in Morocco somewhat stressful, the kindness and friendliness I had experienced from complete strangers both my first night and the next morning more than made up for my bad luck. Moroccan hospitality is no joke!
When I arrived at Thaqafat, I was warmly greeted by Fairouz, one of the program directors. I was the only volunteer to arrive this week, so I had an orientation all to myself. In the morning Fairouz led a session about the culture and history of Rabat. After a lunch break of delicious Syrian falafel and coffee that cost the equivalent of $3, I had a crash-course in Darija with Kareema, the second program director. Arabic is a difficult language to learn, and Darija is even harder to understand. I struggled just to pronounce “Assalamo alaikom” (hello). Luckily, Kareema was very forgiving of my horrendous first efforts!
That evening I met my host family. My host mom, Laila, came to pick me up at the Thaqafat office. She is a very sweet, energetic woman who speaks excellent French (thank god!). As she led me back to the house, we passed palm-lined boulevards until we got to the ancient city where we zig-zagged through narrow corridors and reached a modest door hidden in the middle of the medina.
Though the house is large, my family resides on the third floor. There I was welcomed in a cozy salon by Laila’s husband, her two sons and daughter as well as another volunteer who was also staying with the family. I describe the house and family in more detail in my next blog post!
We arrived just in time for tea, which was an elaborate spread of dates, biscuits, croissants, lentil soup, hard-boiled eggs, bread with cheese, avocado juice and, of course, Moroccan mint tea! It was delicious, and with lots of encouragement, I ate until I could barely move. But dinner was still to come…
For dinner, I ate saffron steamed vegetables (she made a separate meat+vegetable dish for the rest of the family) served in the traditional clay Tajine. The whole family gathered around a small table in the salon as we used flat, rolls of bread to scoop out food from the communal plate. A bowl of fruit for desert provided the perfect finish.
Day 2:
The beautiful weather of my first day disappeared on the second. Instead, I woke up to heavy rain that pooled on top of the market tarps only to pour down on unsuspecting passerbys when the weight of water got to be too great. Because the streets were flooded with water ankle-high, my tour of the city was postponed. But this delay gave me time to return to the airport to retrieve my luggage!
In the afternoon, I had three more orientation trainings covering Moroccan family culture, service project orientation, and harassment.
Day 3:
With the rain subsided, Alexis, took me on a tour of Rabat. We walked from the nouvelle ville through the major medina corridors to the Kasbah, located along the coast. Alexis pointed out the police station, her favorite bookstores, where to find the best fresh juice, the train station, the brand-new modern art museum and the aggressive woman who will grab your arm and start giving you henna—for a price. This tour helped immensely with my sense of direction!
The last part of orientation was an introduction to my service project. Kareema showed me how to take the new tram to Hôpital Ar-Razi in Salé, the sister city of Rabat. There, we met with monsieur Arbaoui, the treasurer of L’Association SILA. L’Association SILA is another non-profit, based in the hospital, whose mission is to humanize and improve care for mental health patients. M. Arbaoui’s friendly demeanor offset his imposing stature and firm handshake as we discussed the nature of my service with SILA.
Over the course of these three days, I began to settle in to my Moroccan environment. The support of Thaqafat, my host family and my American roommate meant that I was not alone in this adventure.