First Impressions

When you're first visiting a country you plan to live in the first days are filled with new experiences. The air you breathe, the smells you notice, the undefinable muttering of a new languages, the sound of the city: everything is different. I want to take you on my journey of the overwhelming depth of first impressions I had on my way from the airport to the office of CSM Morocco.

The first step out of the airport feels refreshing despite the head that hits us. I hold my face up to the sky and close my eyes for a second. The air feels dusty with sunlight and the street lies relatively silent. We walk up the airport yard where two smiling young men wait for us at the door. Abdellatif and his friend are CSM volunteers who kindly agreed to pick us up. The men are exceptionally friendly, ask us about our trip and help us with our luggage. Then we split up so each can take two volunteers with him. 

I go with Abdellatif. We chat for a bit and then fall silent, which gives me time to observe what is going on on the other side of the car window. The first thing I notice is that they are exceptionally clean. The main roads on which we were driving from Salé to Rabat where also rather empty and fences next to the sidewalk supported the image of order. The houses and flats I saw were often slightly cracked or had a sunken roof, but you could see that people tried to make it look nice anyway. The yards and rooftops were overflowing with flowers and everywhere you little details and painted patterns that decorated the walls. 

As we got closer to the city the sound of motorcycles and horns grew evident. From the cars around us you could here laughter  and arabic music, which reminded me in parts also of reggeatón. 

Abdellatif told me in Spanish that he had been a volunteer in Spain and that people in the north still learn Spanish as their second language. He said you could find the influences all over morocco. 

Then we reached a curve that was going a bit up and suddenly and very briefly Rabat stretched out before us. The city seemed to be moving and very quiet at once. You could see construction work everywhere as well as building plans and huge tower cranes. 

The people I saw where very diverse. They seemed to be full of contrasts. I saw an old woman dressed in djellaba, a traditional gown, carrying water and fruits. I saw a men in a suit honking and muttering on an old motorcycle that had definitely seen better days. I saw women in niqab and hijab as well as women in airy dresses and relatively short clothes. I saw people by the river enjoying the day with friends and a cleaning woman executing her prayers. I saw police officers smoking and chatting lightly and drunk  a man on the streets welcoming us. It occurred to me then, that the country must be in change. 

After arriving at the office Hamid prepared us some tea and gave us broad informations about the following days. We would have a 3 day seminar before meeting our host families. He served us bread and biscuits and we chatted on the rooftop for a bit.

Later Ahmed took us out to buy some necessary supplies. On the streets we found someone to sell us Sim Cards and then we visited the supermarkets. I was surprised by the variety of western products that you can buy here. Everything from German chocolate to Shampoo I use at home was available. Additionally you could see spices and vegetables though, that I would have never expected in a common supermarket.
Ahmed told us a lot about Morocco and the language as we walked along the streets. He tried to teach us words and answered every question we had with detail and enthusiasm. He speaks good english with an arabic accent and was a valuable source of information that evening, because we felt we could ask him anything without judgement. 

As we went to get bread and spices we walked along many tiny shops to ask if they had what we needed. And while we found spices instantly, no shop seemed to have bread. That was due to the holiday of Eid, that had just taken place Ahmed explained.
We found some bread eventually. We ate with our hands, the bread being a tool to replace fork and knife. Of course the moroccan volunteers finished their meal way before we did, because it took us some time to learn how to pick up potatoes with bread. We than sat together for yet another round of tea on the rooftop. The men were smoking hookah (shisha) and offered us one after some time as well. We stayed up late above the city, watching the streets of rabat and talking about moroccan culture and for once I felt this city would shape me like no other had before.

View from the office rooftop

The Office

Rabat by night