Moroccan Adventure

The stars aligned over a Moroccan sky, as during the month of January when not a lot was going on, and cabin fever threatened to drive me crazy, my friend Julie decided to come to Portugal for a visit. Having an adventurous spirit as well, she wanted to not only see Lisbon and where I lived but also Morocco! She asked me if I wanted to come with her and since I had been meaning to visit a couple of friends who had recently moved from Lisbon, Portugal to Casablanca, Morocco, I thought I would take her up on her offer! The flights on easyjet were remarkably cheap, one of them only costing me 10$, so it worked out perfectly and off we went to not just another country, but also another continent!
Since Julie had done most of the planning for the trip, I really didn’t have to think about it much. I merely followed her directions and suddenly I was in Africa! It really was a tremendous adventure! It was full of normal adventure stuff with everything from a few shady alleyways we decided not to go down knowing my mother would not approve, some gorgeous vistas of the Atlas mountains, a few new friends from Morocco and various other countries throughout the world, a little language learning of Arabic, French, and Berber, the nomadic language, and even some camel riding throughout the Sahara Desert! We wondered through the first city navigating and orienting ourselves with maps from travel books and brochures. We found our hostels and friends successfully though not without some frustration. We even enjoyed the best of Moroccan food with couscous galore and plenty of tasty meats to flavor it with! The markets, for me, were one of the high lights of the trip! I loved the colors and the chaos there in. I loved walking by shop after shop filled with brilliantly dyed leather bags, intricately embroidered shoes and finely woven scarves. I even enjoyed haggling with the vendors striving for their lowest price, hoping it truly was their lowest price and not just another bluff! Over all Morocco was a tremendous adventure but it was also an experience.
I knew going into the trip that it would be my first time in an Islamic country, but beyond that I didn’t know what that would mean. Honestly, I was only there for a week, so I can’t really draw any conclusions, and maybe my initial assessments would change had I spent more time there, but let’s just say I was happy to come back to Portugal. There were some beautiful things about the Islamic faith that I admired such as the consistent five times daily calls to prayer. Starting at sunrise around 6:00am while we were there, through the loud speakers in every mosque, about one per block, a call to prayer would ring out. This would happen three more times during the day and then again at sundown. Though I didn’t know what was being said, there was something beautiful in it and how it united the community in their faith. Another beautiful thing that I saw within the Islamic faith is the segregation of genders. Now don’t get me wrong, I am all about equality of the sexes, but with such intense segregation of males and females, we experienced some really special bonding times with our fellow women. While on our way back from Casablanca on the train on our final day, Julie and I found a train car that was only comprised of women. Though it wasn’t the most spacious we sat down, at least knowing that we were safe and secure in our present company. Near the end of the train ride the two berka wearing women sitting across from us, after having eating a bit of the breakfast they had brought with them generously shared with us not only offering us bread but also sharing the very cups they had used to let us drink some coffee. There was something so beautiful in this moment. There was no common language to unite us them not speaking English and us not speaking Arabic, but the bond of femininity welded us together stronger and quicker than I’d ever experienced before. It was a transcending moment for me, knowing that whatever the background and whatever the culture, humanity unites us all. However, the Islamic experience of that week was not with out its dark side. I felt the hopelessness of the women, as they have very few rights and often end up in oppressive situations. I saw the harsh reality of a religion void of grace and based primarily on works. I got on the plane to go home not only relieved that I was returning to a sunny Portugal filled with things that I had grown to love but also because though I’m not perfect, Jesus has paid the price for me entirely, and I stand in the freedom that his love gives me.