Click here to view our Picture GalleryFeb. 20th - Sale, Morocco
People are people everywhere. Truth. I was in this college dorm room in Sale, Morocco. There were three girls in their late teens and early twenties sitting on a twin size bed. Their backs to the wall. They were in pajamas. Pajamas that went all the way up to their neck and all the way down to their wrists and ankles. One of the girls wore her hair tied up and covered in a black scarf. She smiled the most. I could just as easily have seen any of these girls at a restaurant in New York City. But, now we were in Morocco and they were sitting on this bed watching a soap opera in Arabic. Something very dramatic was going on in the soap opera because all three girls were glued to the television, hanging on the every word of this half weeping girl in dark eye makeup and a pretty red dress. I didn't speak Arabic or French and they didn't speak English or Spanish -so we were not in the same room to communicate vocally. But, just to share time and space for a few moments I suppose -before we were whisked back away into our own lives -spinning off in our separate directions, most likely never to see each other again.
I looked out the dorm window. I could see teenage boys in dusty street clothes playing soccer -their voices were muffled by the sounds of ocean, the Bouregreg river, cars, and the soap opera. I was sipping some sugary Moroccan tea that I have come to love (though it didn't take much convincing). Suddenly, one of the girl's cell phones rang. She reached for it and looked at the caller ID. The girl holding the cell phone looked at her friends and let out a little squeak in what appeared to be a mix of excitement, disbelief, and nerves.
Her friends spoke all at once -switching between French and Arabic- talking quicker and quicker and signaling toward the phone as it continued to ring. Finally she reached for the phone and answered. I could hear a young man's voice on the other end. Her conversation was in French and in a very different tone than the one she used with her friends. She suddenly sounded calm, cool, and collected. The conversation continued to unfold...although I did not understand a word of it. There was a suddenly a pause. The girl bit her lower lip in anticipation -listening. She waited. Both friends fell silent. We all waited. I stopped drinking my tea and waited. The girl's eyes moved back and forth as she listened. All that could be heard was the up and down, up and down, of the Arabic voices on TV and the hollow echo of a soccer ball being kicked in the distance.
Suddenly, the girl let out a small sigh of relief and touched her hand to her chest. She smiled -said something in a shy voice -then switched off the phone. Her friends spoke all at once -smiling, giggling, bombarding her with questions.
Although I didn't speak French or Arabic, I knew exactly what was going on. People are people -anywhere.
- Jessica
I looked out the dorm window. I could see teenage boys in dusty street clothes playing soccer -their voices were muffled by the sounds of ocean, the Bouregreg river, cars, and the soap opera. I was sipping some sugary Moroccan tea that I have come to love (though it didn't take much convincing). Suddenly, one of the girl's cell phones rang. She reached for it and looked at the caller ID. The girl holding the cell phone looked at her friends and let out a little squeak in what appeared to be a mix of excitement, disbelief, and nerves.
Her friends spoke all at once -switching between French and Arabic- talking quicker and quicker and signaling toward the phone as it continued to ring. Finally she reached for the phone and answered. I could hear a young man's voice on the other end. Her conversation was in French and in a very different tone than the one she used with her friends. She suddenly sounded calm, cool, and collected. The conversation continued to unfold...although I did not understand a word of it. There was a suddenly a pause. The girl bit her lower lip in anticipation -listening. She waited. Both friends fell silent. We all waited. I stopped drinking my tea and waited. The girl's eyes moved back and forth as she listened. All that could be heard was the up and down, up and down, of the Arabic voices on TV and the hollow echo of a soccer ball being kicked in the distance.
Suddenly, the girl let out a small sigh of relief and touched her hand to her chest. She smiled -said something in a shy voice -then switched off the phone. Her friends spoke all at once -smiling, giggling, bombarding her with questions.
Although I didn't speak French or Arabic, I knew exactly what was going on. People are people -anywhere.
- Jessica
