The Heart of Morocco

As I sit down to write my first blog entry, I feel a gentle, balmy breeze that waves the palm fronds outside my window.  I hear the playful greeting of an unknown bird and smell the fragrant spices of tagine, cooking in my kitchen.  Since moving to Morocco two weeks ago with my family, it feels as though my senses have been activated, reminding me of former travel experiences while creating something altogether new.  My aim in writing this blog is to capture the Morocco I experience and share it with all of you.

Morocco is new.  It is also old.  It is a place of contrasts.  Young people text on their smartphones as they walk through the Morocco Mall, shopping for skinny jeans.  Old men, dressed in jelabas (traditional Moroccan robes) and fezzes (traditional hats), stand on the street corner, talking about the latest news.  A business man, driving his brand new Mercedes sedan, whizzes by a man driving a donkey cart, carrying vegetables to sell in the city.  A fully covered woman in a burka sits with her toddler at the IKEA play area.  Next to a her, a Moroccan woman in Western dress comforts her own child while wearing no head covering at all.  Juxtapositions.  Contrasts.  

Despite all of these contrasts, Morocco is a place of unity.  People are warm and generous with one another, regardless of their differences.  They are also warm and generous with outsiders.  In fact, during my three weeks of total time in Morocco, I have only been treated with warmth and generosity.  In a country with such dichotomies, it amazes me that there isn't more conflict.  Why aren't the poor more disgruntled about their position?  Why aren't the more old-fashioned people disgusted with all of the change and progress?  Why aren't the conservative Muslims more frustrated with the more liberal ones?

I don't have the answers to these questions.  However, I have read that one of the pillars of Islam  talks about charity - giving to the less fortunate.  This does not only include material wealth, but also giving of one's time and energy, as well as resources.  They believe that God has given them the blessings they have and that they are morally obligated to share what they have with others.  I have seen wealthy Moroccans give freely to the beggars on the street, but also I've also personally witnessed gracious hospitality and kindness from strangers, regardless of their social position.  People have gone out of their way to tell me that I am welcome here.  A man selling flowers gave me a free bouquet for "International Women's Day."  While we were at the market, I saw vendors happily give each of my children a piece of fruit as a gift.  When my son spilled his drink at a restaurant, the waiter immediately brought him a new drink and cleaned up the mess with a smile, insisting it was no problem at all.  

This warmth and kindness to me - a stranger - has touched me so deeply.  What I leave with you today is an image of the big heart of Morocco - a big heart for the whole world.