What’s up yall. It’s been a minute, and for that I apologize. Things were crazy, so I took a break for a couple of days, but the more days I took a break, the more stuff I had to write about, which meant more time that I didn’t have, and so on and so forth. I had feared this would happen eventually, and I fulfilled my own prophecy. I’m pretty much Harry Potter.
Last Friday, after class, we all loaded onto some buses and took the 8-hour drive to Merzouga, a small town on the edge of the Sahara Desert. We spent the night at a fancy hotel and in the morning drove another hour to a different hotel, where we left everything non-essential, and then hopped on some camels and rode off into the dessert. Though it was very hot, and the sand filled winds stung a little, the beauty of the Sahara was unlike anything I’ve ever seen. We watched the sunset on camelback, before arriving at a Berber camp where we were served food. After dinner, we listened to some traditional drum music, after which most people went to sleep, but some friends and I, along with a guide we had befriended, took an hour-long hike to the top of the highest dune in the area, lit only by the full moon. From the top you could see miles of dunes, like waves frozen in time. It was the highlight of my time in Morocco so far. When it was time to head down, we ran down the slope of the dune, undoing an hour’s worth of hiking in about 45 seconds. It felt like flying. Also, my friend Aliya tripped and ate shit, so that was funny. We got to bed late and woke up early, and spent the next day sleeping through the eight-hour bus ride back.
The following week has been hellish to say the least. Monday and Tuesday had presentations, Wednesday had a quiz and a speaking test, and tomorrow is the final (I’m here for nine weeks, but it’s really a 6-week program with an additional 3 weeks tacked on at the end). However, after tomorrow, I should be done with tests for a couple of weeks, so to celebrate, I’m heading to Chefchauen, the blue city. My two nights in the hotel will cost $24. Morocco is great.
Finally, today we ate turkey for lunch, the Arabic word for which is pronounced “Dick”, and my host mom didn’t know the English word, so she tried to explain it using a combination of English and French (it is big, black chicken…) which ultimately resulted in a devout Muslim grandmother uttering the phrase “Dick, it is like cock”, with all possible innocence, while I nodded politely and died in the inside.
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