Initial Morocco Thoughts

So far so good here in Morocco. I finally moved into my Rabat apartment. Living in hostels was unpleasant, and I realize I’m getting too old for these reindeer games. There were nice perks to the Casablanca and Rabat hostels. The former had reliable internet, the latter a warm shower. The neighbors at both sucked and I did my best to sleep through their snores, late night gab sessions, and peregrinations.

Casablanca offers little to crow about outside of the Hassan II mosque, which is gargantuan and stunning. In fact, if someone asked me if they should hit up Casablanca, I would be reluctant to suggest a visit. Still, it has a gritty charm that is slightly endearing. Yet only in the slightest fashion.

Rabat is miles apart—literally and figuratively—from Casablanca. Rabat exudes a relaxed pace that suits me and one that I find welcoming, which is appropriate considering that it’s the city I will inhabit for the next few weeks. It’s easy to say that I feel safer in one city over the other. However, my concept of safety is colored by my guidebook and any “feeling” I pick up from walking. The problem with a feeling of safety or relative threat is that unless I’m hassled or attacked, it’s not something that I can verify. Thus I hesitate to offer a generalization of safety in Rabat over Casablanca. I’ve felt danger in parts of Chicago greater than what I felt in Casa, so I want to dispel any ideas of an African or Arabic speaking city as inherently more dangerous than another urban area elsewhere.

Also of note, since arriving in Rabat, students have taken to the streets marching to voice their complaint over the heightened unemployment. The hostel manager shared the source of their discontent with me, but it’s impossible to miss the large numbers of people chanting slogans with sings and neon vests.

I will be the first to admit that I do not favor traveling alone. Some flourish under those conditions. Me, on the other hand, I prefer to have a companion and I must admit my loneliness and that I miss Kate. I always try to avoid sentimental or mawkish claims—which one could interpret as a coldness of personality to loved ones—but I’m experiencing a sense of loss that was unbeknownst to me until these past few days. A couple of research trips don’t parallel an absence of this magnitude. (And if anyone is contemplating a comment such as “how can you be lonely when you’re hanging out in a foreign city, buck up, blah, blah, blah” you can spare me the nonsense because I don’t buy it unless you’ve attempted something similar.) We keep in touch via skype twice a day, which should be easier now that I’m no longer navigating internet cafes.