The next morning we boarded a train heading down the coast to Marrakech.  I immediately woke up not feeling well.  Bridget asked me if I was okay and I stated “I’m fine.  Just not feeling great.  I’m sure it’s nothing.”  Why is that phrase such a sneaky fox?  “I’m sure it’s nothing.”  It’s obviously something and yet denial can be such a powerful tool.  While continue to  think “I’m sure it’s nothing,” I popped a couple of Advils and got on the train.  Well,  let’s just say it WAS something.  4 hours later we arrived in Marakech and it hit us both like the freight train we were just riding on.

We went to the hotel (a beautiful Raid in the center of the medina) and were treated to mint tea served with an adorable pet bird. After checking in we tried to rouse ourselves to go out.  “We’re fine! Let’s go!” we kept saying to ourselves and one another.  We were on a mission to walk to the center of town where there is a vibrant center square with street performers, vendors and restaurants.  There we were:  two sick, tired, weary girls trying to decipher a confusing street map.  Needless to say the city is not laid out in grid form.  We made it about three blocks, looked at each other and came to the conclusion it wasn’t going to happen.

The next morning we woke up and tried the city tour again.  We went to the Bahia Palace and then for lunch at rooftop café.  For some reason during lunch I became very overwhelmed (Oh wait I know the reason!  Maybe it was due to being sick, and not having digested food in the previous 24 hours.)  B and I were sitting outside waiting for our lunch and I went to the bathroom.  On the way there I just started to cry.  (Note: I am always envious of people who say “I was about to cry and I just told myself  “‘No don’t do it. So I didn’t.”  This is absolutely not me.  If I feel like I am about to cry, it’s already too late.  And on another note: I was talking to a friend about this once and she stated “Good.  You should cry.  Why would you want that negative energy inside your body.” I love the California mentality!)

Anyway, I come back from the bathroom and was still upset.  B looked at me with a concerned face and said “Oh my gosh!  What did you see on the way to bathroom?!” Honestly I didn’t see anything out of the usual.  Everything just hit me all at once while I was in this somewhat vulnerable state.  Our time in Morocco up to that point was filled with gorgeous sights, smells and sounds but there were also extremely sad parts.  During our tour with Hassan we saw many elderly people sitting on the streets with their heads down and their hands out (to receive money.) I asked Hassan if these people were homeless.  “No madam,” he stated “but they are old and their families think they are useless so they put them out here all day to beg for money.” Wow.  That was just about the worst thing to hear. We also saw mothers holding young babies doing the same thing.  In addition to people begging on the streets, there were so many stray animals running around.  The amount of baby kittens on the streets was unbelievable.   Hassan assured us that these animals are fed by the community but it was still heartbreaking to witness.

I’ve been to many countries where I’ve  seen similar sights.  B has traveled a ton and so she’s seen it too.  We have both seen “worse” but that doesn’t mean what we were exposed to  right then wasn’t sad.  Comparing is probably the worst thing we can do in life.  When we put on the filter of “I’ve seen it worst,” or “This was better when I was there,” it takes us out of the moment of NOW.  Bridget was so sweet while I was upset.  She just said things like “Yeah it is overwhelming to see this,” or “I know that’s sad.”  We talked a lot about how traveling isn’t always for just for “pleasure.”  If it was I would probably be spending this whole year on a island somewhere in the Caribbean.  Traveling is more than just having fun.  (Don’t get me wrong I am having TONS of fun!!) But for me, traveling is also about trying to understand a different place and time. It’s about seeing things that may take me out of my comfort zone, then processing that information and learning from the experience.   It’s about attempting to love our neighbor like we love ourselves even when our neighbor doesn’t look, sound, or think like we do.

That night I would love to say we went out to the square and lived it up.  But we didn’t.  We stayed in our lovely Riad and ordered a pizza (I know I know! But desperate times call for desperate measures.)  We could barely eat the food.  To our credit, we kept saying things like “If  we are going to be sick anywhere this is a good place to be.  People stay in their riads all day just to soak up the ambiance!”)

The next day we packed up our things.  As we were driving to the airport we realized, without a doubt, that everyone in Morocco is a tour guide.  They are a proud nation and the people want to talk about and explain their customs.  The taxi driver kept calling us Jamila and Rashida (after Moroccan goddesses.  Hey, I’ll take it!)  He told us about the informal capitals of the country. Rabat: Political, Fes: Cultural, Casablanca: Economic, Algadir: Agricultural, Marrakech: Tourism.

We said “au revoir” to Morocco and a boarded a plane to Madrid.  We thanked the country for everything it had given us, except the food poisoning.  That gift would continue to stay with us long after we left north Africa.