Misplaced in the Medina

I have been in Morocco for over a month now. As life here begins to feel more and more normal, it also doesn’t.

Every day I walk home through the Medina, and every day I see something I never noticed before. I wonder if the stalls and landmarks are constantly changing or if some of these new items get lost within the chaos. I get lost too.

As I try to follow a route through the streets, I become misplaced in the Medina. My scuffed Birkenstocks carry me around the dusty streets. I notice little landmarks. I smile at the hanoot owners. I overhear arguments between the vendors and the tourists. The roaring engine of a motorcycle is coming up behind me, and I quickly shift myself to one side of the street, all while avoiding stepping on mounds of mud. A cat runs ahead of me and children scream in the distance. I become entirely surrounded by a brightly colored mess.

I have never been a neat person. Much to my parents' displeasure, my bedroom at home was always filled to the top with all the artifacts of my life. My clothes strewn all over the floor, my walls covered in artwork and post-it notes, my desk almost hidden from all of the papers on top of it.

I would sometimes return home to a cleaned room. Suddenly, the walls felt too white, the floor felt too big, my desk was no longer mine. I didn’t feel like I belonged in this orderly place, I felt as if I was a burden on top of the freshly washed sheets.

The cities in Morocco remind me of my room. I am not a burden within the streets. I am fully intertwined with all the messiness.

This video was meant to illustrate the disorder within Morocco, but to showcase how beautiful it still is, despite that.