Eight Days
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Eight Days

Morocco was my escape

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Eight Days
Larry Rhodes

Eight days. For eight days I had relief. For eight days I was free of the complexities of the United States. All of its vitriol and of its political social media posts. Eight days I was away from all the worries of the presidential election and from dealing with people who were either happy or sad about the election. Those eight days were joyous lovely and wonderful. I left for Morocco on Tuesday, November 8 on the Super Bowl for political science students, professors, and scholars. Anxiously I watched CNN at the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, literally living and dying with every announcement of every state's winner. Then I was on the plane.

When I landed in Morocco after a layover in Paris, my mind was not focused on my country anymore. It was now on Morocco, a country where the people, its food, and its scenery all match. My experience in what some consider the gateway bridge between Europe and Africa was memorable. I stayed in Rabat for three days and toured the ancient ruins of Chellah. I traveled back to Roman times and saw the rooms were people lived. I interacted with people from different schools and different countries to talk about the issues of the Arab world. I talked with students at the Universite Internationale de Rabat, playing soccer and basketball with them, eating with them, and laughing with them.

Eight days away from America is the simplicity of going to a friend’s grandmother house and sharing a traditional Moroccan meal. Eight days away means eating a whole chicken and drinking apple soda. It means eating with people from Georgia State, Converse, West Point, and Morocco, discussing our states, our lives, and making jokes about our President-elect Donald Trump. Morocco was a serene place. The pressures that I feel from school and all my responsibilities that come along with it were nowhere to be found. As I traveled through the Moroccan countryside through deserts and sand dunes, the United States became null and void.

Eight days away means that you get to spend time in the Sahara Desert dancing to the music of the people who live there. Getting to ride a camel and watching the Sahara sunset, my eyes and my heart were taken away solely focused on the beauty of the country. Standing there, I thought how could I have ever been so blessed to be able to see something so beautiful and calming and tranquil. My eight days away from the United States allowed me to see snow on mountains in Morocco. I repeat: snow on mountains in Morocco!

As we traveled further through, I turned from just looking at the scenery to talking more to my fellow peers on this expedition. People from Georgia State and Converse engaged in conversations with us UALR students about all sorts of topics. We made jokes about Georgia, South Carolina, and Arkansas. We played cards. We talked about what we study. All of us were interested in our hopes and dreams. Traveling together drew us together and we became friends giving advice on how to travel abroad on the low and making plans to visit each other over Christmas and Spring Break. It was beautiful being able to walk through with these people in a gorge, and passing by the climate change talks happening in Marrakech.

So what did eight days do for me? I was able to escape the brunt of the results election and its divisive power. It allowed me to mellow and see a country and a people that were transparent. For Morocco had a beautiful soul, and for eight days I was allowed to rest in the beautiful soul, so that I could take break. Thank you Morocco for my eight days. Even though I was sleep-deprived and operated on no schedule, you were my muse when I was trying to figure out a solution to end the divisiveness I see all around me. You taught me that when I realize that our fates are tied together, only then will I not harm my neighbor.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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