Those little, tiny life changes...

There is a smell here and I can’t quite describe it. Those who have travelled to Africa and Asia will know what I mean. It’s a cross between humidity and smog, mixed in with rubbish and dirt and oriental cooking smells. It's slightly overwhelming and oppressive when you mix it in with the crazy roadways and organised chaos that is Morocco.

So I’ve been promising the family that I would blog for the last few days, so here it is. My excuse is a pretty shit one, but I’ve been in Marrakesh with my friends for the weekend. Sorry. I also apologise for the lack of serious reflections, as at the moment I’m just trying to fill in the gaps and get things down from when I left to now. I’m splitting up my blog posts, as Marrakesh actually has photos to go with it and this doesn’t.

As I write I’m sitting next to my English friend John on a train from Marrakesh to Rabat. I got into Rabat on Thursday night (local time) and was picked up at the airport by a Projects staff member called Aadil. The plane flight was without a doubt the LONGEST 24 hours of my life. By the third flight from Hong Kong (HK) to London I was ready to get my spider monkey on and start climbing walls. It all ended up ok, and I landed in London without a fuss. The following flight from Heathrow to Casablanca was hilarious, as I was sitting next to an old guy called Adullah ben Alleh, and my god could he talk! In between “Now in Morocco…” and “You should expect...” I didn’t find much time to be nervous about the impending landing. However, I have never been in a plane where the nose has pointed quite so sharply downward (so you can see the slant of the plane forward) for landing.

After a 1&1/2 hour taxi ride with Aadil, we arrived in the Rabat medina. The medina is basically the old city, surrounded by walls and containing all manner of shops, souks and alleyways. It’s quite cool, as you see big wooden doors surrounded by tiles and think nothing of them, but behind them are relatively large houses. My homestay is much like this. The family is lovely, however Asaa, the mother, doesn’t speak a word of English. Consequently, I have had to remember Arabic incredibly quickly. The daughters and father are really nice, and all speak some English as well as Arabic and French. The next morning I was picked up by another Project’s staff member called Asmaa, and she showed me to and from my placement and then to the Office. I had lunch with a very funny guy called Yousef (we talked about Justin Bieber. Dislike for him and his music is universal funnily enough), and then Aadil showed me around Rabat and bought me coffee.

In Morocco, tea and coffee are drunk like water, and everything, I repeat EVERYTHING has sugar added to it, which for a sweet tooth and coffee lover like me is heaven. The homestay food is nothing amazing, but there’s always a lot which pretty much satisfies all of my requirements. The home in general is nice but cold (Moroccan houses are made to keep cool in the summer, not warm in the winter) and basic, so the shower is a bucket which you fill and then scoop over you, and there is no laundry-it’s all hand washing (which just FYI Mum, I do myself. I’ll make a good wife someday *giggles*). Speaking of which, the count of marriage offers and shouts of “I love you” stands at 6. Turns out Arab men like blondes, who knew? I’m keeping tabs as at times as this is quite amusing, but there is a serious side to it, and I’m being fairly careful as I’ll be travelling quite a lot on my own every day to and from work, and on weekends. Most people are really friendly and just want to chat, but there’s always one…

I met my roommate Lexy on Friday morning, as she was out when I arrived on Thursday night, and she is really nice. She is from Canada (ergo: awesome), and takes more photos than anyone I have ever met, which is hilarious. Big call, but I have plenty of reasons to make it including the few hundred photos from the last 48 hours. We joke that if we ever forget what we have done in the day, we can go to her camera and pretty much recap it by the hour. As soon as I met her, she asked me what my plans were for the weekend and invited me with her and John, another Projects volunteer from London, to Marrakesh for the weekend. I feel slightly bad because I had no sooner arrived in Rabat and met my family than I had left again, but the snap decision to accompany them was well worth it.

I’m going to stop this post here, as I am up to weekend stories. There are now about 4 people screaming at each other in Arabic over the refreshments trolley in the train and I don’t understand a word, but it’s loud and fast, meaning that the entire carriage is interested and alternating between laughing at insults and shooting disapproving looks. Drama, drama, drama.

I have decided that I like this place. A lot.

Love love!

C xx