The Only Routine is there is NO routine

It has been three weeks since I first arrived in Morocco and I am finally beginning to feel at home. I’ve begun to love small things about Morocco and have taken them as my own. My favorite part of the day is the first half an hour that I’m awake. My favorite scene is not the snow-capped Atlas mountains or the mini water falls that are created by the cliffs below my village. It’s not the field of rose bushes and walnut trees nor is it the running river that runs between my town and the neighboring duwars. My favorite view of the day is when I first wake up and I se the sunbeams shine through my stained glass windows and they highlight the thousands of teeny holes in my mosquito net. The first fifteen minutes of the day is my favorite time of the day.

After those first fifteen minutes, when I am reminded that I really am in Morocco, every other aspect of the day is a surprise. Sometimes they are good surprises and other times they make me question why I left the comfort of my home, but the journey I have taken is so special because of the positives and negatives and that will make this experience memorable.

One of the more exciting days was our first souk (market) day. Once a week, a nearby town hosts a souk, a large outdoor market. Souk attracts people from 50 or more kilometers away and provides a large variety of fresh meats, vegetables, fruits, spices, clothing, music, fresh mint tea, and almost anything else that you can imagine. Our souk town also hosts restaurants, cybers (cyber cafes), and lots of cheap shopping for the everyday. I had been looking forward to our souk day for over a week because it was an opportunity to travel outside of our village and see some of the other health trainees who lived in nearby towns/villages…but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

We left our site at 8am and traveled via transit (a small bus that serves as a cheap form of transportation in rural Morocco). Our ride was no longer than 25 minutes and we arrived at the souk town, but there was no sign of civilization….so we began to walk. We walked for what seemed to be a half hour down alleys, down a dirt path, over a few hills and then finally we began to see streams of people, cars, and other transportation (yes…there were a few donkeys). We had finally arrived at souk. It was the largest open air market that I had ever seen. We walked past dozens of cages of live chickens (who would soon meet their end), more oranges than I could ever imagine eating, and so many different spices that I didn’t have time to stop and smell them all.


Since this was my training groups first time at souk, our language teacher decided to use this as an educational moment. As she stood somewhat silently in the background, we tried to maneuver our way through asking how much different items were (per kilo), bargaining for good prices, and getting all of the items we would need for our lunches and snacks. I thought this would be a manageable task…we had gone over food vocabulary, we knew the basic numbers, I was familiar with the currency (Durham), and I have always been a fan of bargaining. Sounds easy…wrong. The first vendor we went to was selling copious amounts of fresh fruits and vegetables. Note: the best quality food is available earlier in the souk (around 8 or 9) but it also more expensive and more difficult to bargain. As we began to ask how much for matisa (tomatoes) and batata (potatos) per kilo…I thought we were getting good prices so we started filling bags with tons of food. After we had picked enough at that stall, I asked “Shail kochi” (how much for everything) and the vendor replied 600. I was shocked…there was no way that 3 kilo of carrots, 2 kilo of potatoes, and a few other kilos of fruits should cost so much. After recalculating the math and going over the prices…I thought we were being swindled …taken advantage of. I could tell the man was getting frustrated and so was I, but right before I was ready to throw in the towel, my language teacher came over and explained that the price was correct. We were to pay 600 rayal…which is a completely different currency than the Moroccan Durham that I was familiar with. The rayal is a currency that is used primarily in rural areas in Morocco. 20 rayal = 1 durham and 1 durham = (approximately) 9 US dollars. So we ended up paying about 30 durham (less than 4 dollars) for a few bags of fruits/vegetables. We definitely got a good deal, but it took forever to identify all of the different things we needed, to pick out good quality, and to figure out the total price. It was definitely a learning experience that left me exhausted, but I was also exhilarated at the end of the souk because we were able to get almost everything we needed, with the exception of some cheese that we were able to get from the supermarche. I loved talking with the vendors. For the most part, they all were willing to speak slowly and indulge my fragmented pronunciation of sentences and words.

Going to souk was not an ordinary day (we got to travel out of site, I saw other PC volunteers and trainees, I got to hear some French and saw more than one vehicle drive by every hour). But in many days it was a typical day…I woke up that morning and could never have imagined the challenges and victories that I would experience before the day would be over. The days have been long and tough, but I wouldn’t change it for the world. I look forward to continuing to share this experience with all of you!

Quick note: I have finally begun to settle into my new room and have started decorating the walls. I have designated one wall space as a “words from the wise” area where I can post inspirational and encouraging phrases so that I have a visual reference when times get tough. It includes phrases like “ Take it one moment at a time” and “Celebrate the small victories”. I would love to include any quotes, jokes, advice, or sayings that you think would be helpful….if anything, you’ll be able to know that your words are “published” in Morocco (sort of).