Blood, Sweat, and Beers

For the circumstances, I was able to sleep relatively well on Friday night. After the surprise party winded down, I got some last minute things together and clocked out.

On my way to the airport, I didn’t have the nerves I thought I would. It was all rather tranquil. First snag I hit was at the ticket counter at DIA, when an agent tried to tell me that I needed a visa to enter Morocco, which is true, but she had no understanding of how the visa process works.

After resolving the issue, I sped through security and grabbed a bagel, arriving at my gate ridiculously early to sit and think about the day ahead of me.

I met up with Cassie Odneal, who is participating in the same program as me and had the same three flights (Denver > New York > Paris > Rabat). It definitely helped to have a travel buddy to lighten the mood when things got… interesting.

At JFK, we grabbed our last American cheeseburgers at the Shake Shack, a well worth it $10 meal. After realizing we needed to switch terminals, which meant going through security again, we found ourselves rushing helplessly through the airport.

I feel obligated to share that, as we entered the correct terminal, I may have over-excitedly opened the door while simultaneously standing too close. I found myself with a seemingly broken and very bloody nose, but TSA didn’t ask any questions. Provided some much needed laughs and perhaps a sign to relax a little bit.

For being such a long flight, New York to Paris wasn’t that bad. Watched the sun set and rise, ate two meals, watched some movies, and it was over.

Everyone eating snacks and talking while
we waited for some late arrivals.

In Paris, the pains of traveling started to kick in. I impulsively purchased an $8 latte to help out. At our gate for the flight to Rabat, we ran into basically everyone else participating in an SIT program. The flight was short and sweet, but was followed by some agonizing wait times for the program representatives and then again for late arrivals.

Buses took us into Rabat to Hotel Darna, where we will be staying for orientation week. It’s a very historic hotel with beautiful décor and architecture, and it has been recently restored. I was luckily enough to receive my own room. We had about 45 minutes to shower and settle in, and then it was off to the Cross-Cultural Learning Center for a tour, introductions, and a nice Moroccan dinner of beef, carrots, eggplant, potatoes (maybe?), and a banana.

A view from the second level of the
Cross-Cultural Learning Center.

It may be because of the humidity, but it is crazy hot here. I showered after I got settled in, but promptly started sweating again about 30 seconds later.

Morocco is a fascinating place full of life and tremendous diversity. It will take adjustment, but it’s going to be hard not to fall in love with it. I have somewhat of an early morning tomorrow, but stay tuned.

Forward

I had a week until the deadline.

It's something I should've put much more thought into, but I suppose I always just thought I knew what I wanted. I sat at my desk in 228C scrolling through hundreds of options. My roommates are scattered about the room doing the same. Italy, Chile, New Zealand, Argentina... what does the name of a country really tell you?

In the end, the decision to go on this trip was a bit like jumping off a diving board when you're a kid. The longer you stand at the top, the higher the board seems to get. If you can work the courage to jump off, your part is finished and gravity takes over.

To-dos, documents, and phone calls. Names, requirements, and immunizations. For the past few months, I've been running down the length of the board. It's almost time to lift my last toe off, but if I've learned anything in the last year, it's that things work out when they need to.

It doesn't seem like enough stuff for
three and a half months, does it?

I leave for Morocco in two weeks.

A small area between my dresser and my desk has become a chaotic pile of necessities for the trip. A small pharmacy, backpacks, contact solution, cameras, and I don't think the pile is even complete. I guess that's what the next two weeks are for.

I am participating in a program run by the School of International Training (SIT). It is a Journalism and New Media program and will include multiple parts.

The first part will include a home stay in the Medina (old town) of Rabat. An intimate and complex web of narrow streets, my cohorts and I will be immersed in the daily life of a Moroccan family. While living there, I will be taking courses in the Center for Cross-Cultural Learning (The CCCL), also in the Medina.

Courses will include Intensive Language Study of Modern Standard Arabic, Contextual Studies in Journalism: Morocco and North Africa, and Field Ethics of Journalism in Morocco. During that time, the group will embark on excursions throughout the country, as well as a short village stay in the Sbaa Rouadi Commune.

For the final month of the program, I'm on my own, researching and creating a feature-length story about the topic of my choice as part of the Independent Study in Journalism course.

And lucky you, getting to kick back and read about the whole thing...

I invite you to join me as I leap from this diving board. Who knows? Maybe we'll learn something.