It’s raining in the Sahara

Not just raining, storming. At least it was when I was there, camped out in the middle of the sand dunes of Morocco. It was an adventure unlike any other in a country unlike any other.

I was in Morocco 6 days last week, from Friday to Wednesday, with about 90 other students from my study abroad program. The 90 students were not only from Granada, but also from Madrid and Salamanca, so I knew less than half the people going on the trip with me. All the Granada people, still half asleep, crammed on a bus at 4 a.m. Friday morning and headed for the ferry at the Straight of Gibraltar where we would meet the other students and cross over to Morocco. This is where the first adventure began.

As we pulled up to the ferry station our director warned us over the bus intercom that the ferry ride might be a little rougher than usual since it was raining. What we had once thought would be a relaxing ride across the straight turned out to be a life-threatening experience reminiscent of the Titanic. Do I exaggerate? Maybe. But all I remember from that ride is the sound of glass clanking together, dishes crashing, and the many requests over the intercom to “please remain seated for safety reasons” as the boat bounced and crashed against the turbulent waves and I sat clutching my seat, staring out the window and high off Dramamine. Needless to say, we were all relieved to get off that ferry! We found out afterward that our boat was the last to cross that day before it shut down due to bad weather. We considered ourselves fortunate that we made it alive to Morocco.

Once we made it across the straight we had to sit in the bus for a couple hours while we waited to cross the border. When we finally got across (hallelujah!) we had another 8-hour bus ride ahead of us to the city of Fez. We got there that night, slept soundly, then woke up early the next day to tour the city.

Fez is a city unlike any other I’ve seen. The Moroccan streets in the Albayzin of Granada are somewhat resemble the look of Fez, but certainly not the atmosphere. We split up into 3 groups of about 30 people and walked around the narrow and chaotic streets of Fez on a guided tour. It was almost impossible to hear anything the tour guide said. The streets are very narrow and busy. Everywhere you walk there is someone selling someone to you and about every 5 minutes you have to move out of the way for a man walking a donkey or pushing a barrel through the streets. The smell is one thing I won’t forget. From every place came a different smell—from the donkeys, the shops, the trash on the streets…Morocco is a place of many smells, for better or for worse. The smell I will remember the most came from the tannery.

The tannery was my favorite place we visited in Fez, but probably the smelliest place I’ve ever been. To get to the tannery we entered a leather shop, grabbed some mint leaves and climbed up some windy stairs where we could observe the tannery from the roof. Immediately we were struck by the smell. I started gagging and pushed the mint leaves as close to my nose as possible and tried to pay attention to the tour guide telling us about the method of making leather. Although it was smelly, it was interesting and I loved to watch the people down below, working with the animal skins, curing them in the giant holes in the ground. We finally went back down and escaped the smell and looked around the leather store, then left to see more interesting sights.

Other interesting places we visited that day were a an old house converted into a carpet store, a pharmacy full of natural products for any purpose you would desire, and a hand-made pottery shop. It was a full day and it was nice to return to the hotel to rest for a bit before going out again that night.

After dinner in the hotel all 90 of us ventured out again to a music and dance show in Fez. It was a fun but very touristy spot. The music was fun and the belly dancers were fun to watch, and it allowed a time for all of us to loosen up a bit and get to know each other better.

The next day in Morocco was another long bus ride to the southern part of the country where we would camp out in the desert two nights. This was definitely my favorite part of the trip. We rode the bus all day and arrived at a hotel around 5 p.m., where we then took split up into small groups to ride jeeps into the sand dunes of the Sahara.

When we finally go there that night we were in for a surprise. We couldn’t see what it looked like at the time because it was dark out. We walked out on the dunes anyway, after settling into our smelly camel-skin tents, to enjoy the fresh air and chat with the Berbers who live there. I was sitting on a dune with 2 other girls talking when suddenly the wind picked up and created a sand storm! We turned our backs to shield ourselves, thinking it would pass in a moment, but we soon had to battle it out and run to our tent when we realized it was turning into a thunderstorm! By the time we got to the ten everything was wet because, of course, the tents weren’t made to handle rainstorms in the middle of the desert. But we bundled up and finally fell asleep that night under the rain, embracing the moment as an opportunity to build character.

The next day was my favorite of the trip. We woke up to the sun shining, only partially wet, and ready to ride our camels! We all wrapped our turbans around our heads and hoped on our camels which we road about a mile through the dunes. I rode on one with another girl named Sabina, and we were accompanied by a young Berber boy, walking alongside us and making small talk in Spanish. Even though they’ve never been to school a day of their lives, all the Berbers know at least 3 languages, simply from talking with tourists! After we road our camels for a while we got off by a humongous sand dune, which we climbed up to enjoy the view and then sled down. I managed a successful ride down the hill, without taking a sand dive! After a little time there we got back on the camels and rode to a nearby village in the middle of the desert.

In the village we walked around talking to the kids there before we visited another typical Moroccon shop. The kids there were timid as we passed out candy to them, but they followed us around the entire day after that. It was mostly boys walking around with us because the women are to stay in the house all day where their work is done. In fact, we hardly saw any women the entire trip, even in the cities. I only saw one woman in the desert, and a couple of small girls.

We visited this town and one other and ended our day with a dance party in the food tent, the Berbers playing music for us and teaching us their crazy dances. It was a blast. That night it rained again, but we were prepared this time. Even though we didn’t get to see the amazing starry sky of the desert, we had our own unique experience battling the rainstorms at night. It was definitely an adventure I will never forget.

The next day we took the jeeps through the flooded streets back to the hotel, where we hopped on the bus yet again for another long ride up north to Meknes. I was disappointed that we arrived in Meknes so late, because we didn’t actually get to see much of the city. By the time we arrived there I was too tired to walk around much, so I didn’t really see it at all.

The next day was our trip back home, and we were all very relieved that for this ferry ride it was not raining! I was so happy to arrive back at my home sweet home in Granada, where I had more than a hole in the ground for a toilet and I could eat endless amounts of fruits and vegetables without getting sick. Although I loved the Morocco trip, it was one that made me appreciate what I have so much more.