My flights, per usual, were stressful and late and etc. etc. etc...but I landed in Frankfurt at about noon on Saturday. Deciding that despite my overwhelming fatigue I simply could not waste a day in the airport, I took my comically large backpack and headed down to the trains. With the help of a few merciful German souls, I managed to buy a ticket and put myself on the S9 line into the center of the city, where I spent a couple of hours wandering through a street festival before surrendering to heat and general bewilderment at my surroundings and heading back to the airport. Feat of the day: A polizei used my train ticket as an example to show a German couple which one they were supposed to have bought. Score one for the American!
Anyway, stepping out of the Casablanca airport was like being suddenly wrapped in a warm, damp blanket. I saw palm trees and مطار محمد الخامس and I realized that I was here. In Morocco. Actually. And then there was the cab ride to the hotel.
Our driver spoke no English, and I was able to get by with some French and hand signals. As we drove away from the airport, we plunged in to complete darkness that was only interrupted by an occasional car which we quickly overtook and passed. To add to the confusion was the fact that there were no lights in the car whatsoever, so no one could see the speed of the car (or anything), including the driver. As we passed every single car on the road, we came within feet of oncoming traffic several times, the driver was either coughing up a lung or texting on his cellphone, and I vainly searched for a seatbelt. I watched outlines of palm trees and saw groups of men smoking outside of the occasional roadside buildings until I passed out, waking up as we pulled in to the front of the hotel. I checked in, found my roommate, and collapsed in to bed at 3 a.m.
The first day was a haze of orientation, meeting new people and taking in surroundings. Somewhere in the midst of being surrounded by darijah arabic, hearing the calls to prayer and sitting in a cafe drinking mint tea, I came to realize that I would be living in this city for four months. The group of 28 students is wonderful, and we visited Roman ruins and Rabat's casbah, and sat overlooking the beach for a while before heading back to search for dinner. I had my first tagine meal and watched the Ramadan activity in the streets before we decided that our first day need not end so soon, and we headed in to the wild medina to visit the souk and experience a bit of nighttime Rabat.
The medina was an overwhelming sensory experience, with little winding streets full of vendors and people packed so tightly it was difficult to walk. Everything under the sun, from underwear to live turtles, was being sold, and little children were either grabbing my hand or vomiting on my feet (truth). I had the best orange juice I've ever tasted, freshly squeezed at the street stall. Finally, we succumbed and headed back to the hotel to crash. A busy first day turned in to an equally packed second day full of language placement tests, further exploration and our first futour meal out with the group.
The night ended with a drink near the medina and a beautiful nighttime view of the city from a rocky spot over the ocean.
So it begins!
