If I had a Twitter and could tweet all the strange, weird, funny things that have become my life. . .
PSA: I do not have a twitter because I am naturally long-winded. However for the sake of this post, I have attempted to keep each bullet under one hundred and forty characters. #noregrets
So, while in #Morocco . . .
• Communication is like playing charades with your host family all the time.
• You’re roof is an extension of the home, and a place for existential thoughts.
• You will find that spaghetti, cinnamon, and sugar together is a dish . . . a popular dish.
• Walking through the medina in the evening is worse than walking through a mall on Black Friday.
• You try to bargain, and the vendor yells “You have a black heart!” So, you leave his store and he follows you, while yelling it to all the other vendors. (This is not my own experience, but I saw it happen to my friend)
• You go to a restaurant and don’t know whether to speak in Arabic, French, or English with the waiter . . . because all three are on the menu.
• You panic when the waiter arrives because the language you choose is such a power move, so you end up mumbling gibberish.
• The plates and the tables at restaurants are always slightly sticky, kind of like going to TGIFridays all the time.
• You crave sushi. Find sushi. Eat copious amounts of sushi. ( This might just be a “me” thing . . .)
• Most cafes have WiFi. Free WiFi.
• The bathroom will become the most important room to you in any building.
• After adding new Moroccan friends on Facebook and scrolling through your wall, Chrome asks if you want to translate this page into English.
• You walk around for hours looking for things, because street signs are usually hidden.
• You have to ask the vendor at the hanut (little street stores) how to say female sanitary napkin in Darija and then ask if he could reach it for you.
• Cats just creep up on you. You get over the superstition of a black cat crossing your path real quickly. (Otherwise, my future looks very unlucky.)
• If you ask for asir (juice) limon, they give you orange juice. . . *shrugs* (maybe this is a Meknes thing).
• You will have many “I think we need some space” conversations with flies.
• No, fly you may not fly up my nose. Please chill. We’re not even dating.
• Cab drivers blatantly turn you down and drive away sometimes.
• A grand taxi driver tricked five of us into believing that we haggled him down from 150 to 100 dirhams cab fare, when it was actually only worth 7 dirhams.
• But, after trying to explain Islam to you, persuade you to convert, and then prove his good will as Muslim, another cab driver will give you a free ride!
• After taking out 1000 dirhams at a time from ATM’s, and momentarily freaking out, you realize that’s only 100 dollars.
• I bought a whole pizza, walked away and realized that I paid only $1.50 (15 dirhams) for a whole pizza. I love exchange rates.
• You decide to buy a ticket to Italy on a whim, just because it's close.
• Your professor’s travel playlist includes Bugatti by Ace Hood.
• You notice McDonald’s becomes the hip hangout of the youth . . . but not for you, of course, you prefer the chill café scene.
• You consume copious amounts of television. . . Bollywood television (or Turkish dramas, depending on the house).
• You can sit at a café in Tangier and just stare at Spain.
• You can watch the Atlantic Ocean and the Mediterranean Sea collide. (They don’t really collide, more like pleasantly meet).
• You have the urge to take pictures of EVERYTHING, because everything is BEAUTIFUL!
• You have way too many pictures of doors in your camera roll.
• You have the urge to Snapchat EVERYTHING, partly because everything seems like a novel experience and partly to remind your friends that you live a cool life.
• Your Instagram is poppin’ with colorful doors, pretty architecture, and people being hipster in cool clothes (My IG is not yet at that level, but I have aspirations).
