I'm finally here!

It looks like I'll be writing my updates at night and then posting them in the morning. Keep in mind that they're a day late!

1 Feb 2009
I left Paris for Rabat this morning, and it’s been non-stop ever since then. Paris was amazing…the view from the hotel was absolutely breathtaking, and just getting to hang out with my dad was great. The flight was (thankfully) uneventful, and I do have to say that Moroccans sure know how to cook airplane food! I sat near some nice old French man who was nice enough to read me my horoscope before we took off…I’m just glad it didn’t say anything like “expect a fiery death” or “you will drop from the sky.” It was kind of a madhouse when we landed, with all of us students trying to figure out where to go and who to meet. Lucky for me though, I was at the front of the plane and got through customs before it was too chocked up with the rest of the passengers and my bags were some of the first ones off. I was completely clueless as to what I was doing, but I just put on my typical “I know exactly what I’m doing” face and made it out alive. Some girl even came up to me afterwards and told me that she didn’t think I was with the SIT group because I didn’t seem lost at all. See? It works every time! Even if you’re headed in the wrong direction and realize it halfway there, keep on walking, stop and read a sign, pretend that’s what you went to look at, and then (and only then) can you turn around and head towards your actual destination.
After we had piled all of our luggage into the big tour bus, we made our way toward the medina (walled part of the city) of Rabat, where we checked into our hotel and had some free time before dinner. My hotel roommate, Lea and I decided to do a little exploring and errand running. My first task while in Morocco was to buy a SIM card for my phone. Easier said than done. I had no problems finding the SIM card and purchasing minutes…but of course the guy (Mohammed) didn’t accept my debit card (I can hear my mother saying “I told you so”) so I had to find an ATM, which was an adventure in itself. Walking down the street in Morocco is definitely a cultural experience. Men don’t whistle or shout at women here…they hiss and follow you while attempting to have a conversation. It sounds a lot creepier than it actually is, and it mainly stems from the belief that Western women are “easy.” And after typing that, I realize that it probably doesn’t make it sound any better, but you have to believe me on this one; as long as you just ignore them, they eventually saunter off to find different prey. Some men are a little more subtle though, such as our friend Mohammed at the phone store. They’ll just sneak their number into your phone (and get yours) while they’re pretending to help you put your SIM card in. Very smooth, buddy.
French has really been my saving grace here and I’m so surprised at the amount of people who speak it. I use Arabic for greetings and formalities, but other than that it’s just like being back in Brussels. Everyone from the man at the hotel, to the kids playing in the street speak French—they switch over once they realize I can’t carry on an intense conversation in Arabic—and although it’s accented, it’s still perfectly understandable. Mom and Dad: thanks for sending me to a French speaking school, and not a Flemish one.
After we returned to the hotel, our entire group was herded to the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning (the CCCL), which is where we will be taking our classes and eating lunch everyday. The walk there was an incredible juxtaposition between all things ancient and modern…internet cafés set up in little shops, right next to the centuries old city walls, with the muezzin calling the faithful to prayer in the background. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, we wound our way through the alleyways and arrived at the CCCL. I’ll post pictures of it soon but I can already tell you, they won’t do this Moroccan architecture any justice. It used to be home to wealthy Moroccan families in its residential days, but now it’s become a strictly educational building. From what I could tell, it has three stories, two terraces and all the classrooms open up to a main courtyard, which is covered. To be completely honest, I was tired and hungry and didn’t pay nearly enough attention to give you a great description. I promise you’ll understand what I mean soon enough! We had dinner at the CCCL, and while you could tell it was just something that the chef, Brahim whipped up to feed the starving American students, it was delicious. I only committed one major faux-pas during dinner, and that’s when I was talking to Said, one of the Academic Directors, about the ongoing issue of Western Sahara. He suddenly got very stern, looked at me and said “before you go on, you must know, Moroccans do not consider this place to be called Western Sahara. It is the Moroccan Sahara. Not western.” Crap. I knew I should have brought up a less controversial subject…maybe something like gay marriage in the Catholic Church? Well, lesson learned.
They gave out the schedule for orientation and I can already tell that this is going to be a crazy week. Tomorrow’s schedule lists a “health issues” briefing from Dr. Hassar, a program outline, a “fears and expectations” lecture, Morocco 101, CCCL regulations, Darija and Fus’ha lecture, Arabic placement test, and the ever-important tea time. There are a few other things listed, but I have no idea what they’re talking about, so I guess I’ll find out soon enough.
There were no exciting adventures after dinner…everyone in the group has jet-lag, and both my roommates have already passed out. It’s only 9 o’clock. I kind of want to go explore, but a nagging voice inside my head says that’s probably not the brightest idea. I think I’ll just get ready for the upcoming days instead and write up a few emails to send once I have an internet connection.
By the way, in case you’re wondering…no Turkish toilets yet.