Two New Continents, No Sleep, and a Market

So, I left home around 3:30 pm ish on December 13th, with my flight leaving at 6:30 pm. I ran in slow motion when I saw my roommate Becca waiting for me at our gate in Detroit. (Today I learned it was her first time in Michigan, ... I know, shock and awe, same here).

She was exhausted and had already been on one flight and in two air ports, but I was freshly ready to go. We boarded the plane, and fortunately were able to sit next to each other for the seven hour plane ride to Paris. I watched "Finding Vivian Maier" a documentary I've been dying to see for a few years now on the plane and that helped pass the time. We ate some pasta and flew and flew and flew until finally, after 20 years, I touched Europe for the very first time.

Paris! It was so exciting to get go to Paris, and yet, there was fog. Not a little bit, a lotta bit, as in standing at the gate I could barely make out the shape of the plane through the fog let alone see any buildings or a sky line or I don't know say the Eiffel Tower. -- but folks, let's think of the important things here-- I did get my photograph taken by the sign for where they sold "foie gras" which as many now know, is the only French words I know. (While living with someone from France this past summer in Nepal, I asked him to teach me how to say something in French, he taught me "foie gras", which I can't pronounce no matter how hard I try. It wasn't until about three days later that I asked what it even meant... "fatty duck liver". Needless to say, it is an inside joke that brought me immense joy to see today on my first mini adventure in the Paris air port).

In Paris, they speak French, and they mean business with their French. I don't know French, and when I finally figured out what "merci" meant (thank you), I almost let a "de nada" (you're welcome, in Spanish) slip out of my mouth. That being said, we made our way to Rabat.

We landed in Rabat, Morocco, in rainy, overcast, and quite honestly cold weather. Not exactly how I thought my first trip to Africa would be, rainy, cold, cloudy, but hey. After, a flight with an adorable old French woman muttering to me the whole flight I was prepared for anything. Went through customs, got an awesome stamp on my passport with some lovely Arabic writing. Got my luggage, exchanged some money, and off we went to the hotel. We had a lovely greeting by some of the staff leading our study abroad here, and quickly learned the word "shoukran" means "thank you." Got keys to our room, unpacked, took a bunch of photos, videos, and snapchats from our mini, extremely sketchy "balcony" and emailed some contacts for our project. Finally we took to the streets, just Becca and I, in the rain, walked and walked until we found a market, eerily similar to the Asson Market in Kathmandu, Nepal. Beautiful things for sale, beautiful, beautiful people in the streets, interesting smells, clothing, colors, foods, languages, everything. Found our way back to the hotel, stopped at the corner store, bought two large waters, and headed in to freeze our butts off in our room all night.

So we did it, day one, check! Only 29 left! Yikes! So much to do, so little time!
Two new continents, no sleep, and a market, all in one day.


au revoir