Land of a thousand lands Before I arrived in Morocco, I used my computer to scope out the country through Google Maps satellite vision and Google Earth. It looked like a dry, burnt, barren wasteland. After being in Morocco, and traveling from Fez to Azrou to the Sahara to Marrakesh to Casablanca, I understood […]
Sethly Davis
My Mother’s Name was Fatima
My roommate Lilia and I lucked out because our homestay mother, Fatima, and her 22-year-old daughter both spoke fluent French, and I did too. We only realized what an asset this was when we Americans on our trip discussed the ‘familial’ relationships we had with our homestay families. Most of the other Americans on the
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Girls Work Hard
Over the course of our time on our worksite laying concrete for the school sports field, our relationships with the Moroccan workers went from non-existent to friendly and productive.  At the beginning of the second week, the Moroccans started to readily ask us to do specific tasks. This was awesome. In particular, we appreciated that
Being a Doctor in Morocco
Traveling in Morocco, it was inevitable that at least some of us would fall prey to diarrhea. What are the odds when you’ve grown up in a world of hand sanitizers, and you come to live and work in a developing country where water and hygiene are not taken for granted? Each morning we would
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Family Values in Morocco
Someplace far back in my mind while I was in Morocco, I always was aware that Morocco is a Muslim country with its own specific familial structures different from what we generally see in the US. But seeing and hearing about family values first hand is another thing all together. We went to visit a
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