South, Onward

I’m writing this post on the first leg of our southern excursion, in the bus. We’re on our way to the smaller southern town of Midelt and will be in the south of the country for the rest of the week. We're currently passing through Amazigh lands in the Middle Atlas mountains. 

EDIT: I'm actually posting this three days later in Ouarzazate after the most adventurous weekend I've really ever. 

The magic of my INWI stick gives me the power to literally blog on the move. I've got my soca streaming in the background and the Moroccan countryside flying by. 

Our southern excursion is a weeklong trip to five cities. They are:

Midelt

Merzouga

Ouarzazate

Marrakech

Essaouira

A few evenings ago, my friends and I had the pleasure of attending the Jazz au Chellah music festival in Rabat. Chellah is an old Roman fortress on the other side of the outer wall of the city. Each year, the French Cultural Institute, along with the European Union and the Ministry of Cultural Affairs hosts an international jazz festival with groups from all over. 

We got tickets earlier in the day for what was definitely a sold out event. The jazz music was a cornucopia of different sounds, classic sax and trumpet solos intertwined with Hindustani-classical inspired violin and traditional Arabic singing. Definitely a worthwhile experience. 

However the festival also got me thinking about something a bit more serious: the privilege of being an American student studying abroad. The running joke of the jazz festival was that it was the most bougie event we had been to in Morocco thus far. Indeed, majority of the audience seemed to be French or other European expats and young, French-speaking Moroccans. Earlier course lectures had taught us that not all Moroccans speak fluent French, and many who do see it as an ability related directly to their economic, social, and educational status. Thus, the festival was a somewhat stark contrast to the demographics we’re used to in the medina. Just the fact that we knew the festival was happening and were able to go made me realize that as foreign students, we are equipped with so much privilege not only to inhabit different worlds within Moroccan society but to move freely between them. Our daily lives are firmly planted in the medina experience, but just a 10 dirham ($1.25) cab ride away, and we’re in fashionable, modern Agdal. We’re uniquely able to integrate ourselves into a cross-section of Moroccan society in ways that locals may not. 

To some, my realization may seem obvious. And all of my pre-abroad seminars and lectures touched on this privilege. But somehow to actually live it is both disorienting and humbling. I’m unsure of how to really navigate it other than to be conscious that it exists. 

Random note: I discovered this week that Julia, Colleen and I basically all have the same music taste. I was so dejected after coming home from Trinidad that I’d have nobody to share my love of soca and Nigerian pop with. WELL NOT ANYMORE. 

On a more serious note, while these past few weeks have most certainly had their downs, I'm unbelievably grateful for the friends I've made. They're all so unique and passionate about their hobbies and interests whether it be film or caves or photography. I feel lucky to have met people who want to live their lives with such richness and gusto. 

This whole trip, we've meandered through smaller towns, narrow streets lined by boxy brick villas with terra cotta accents. There are a lot of empty buildings, and I'm not sure if they're abandoned housing developments or currently under construction. 

There's too much to write about this weekend, so I'll save it for a later post.