Posts in Morocco
How I Learned Moroccan Arabic + 5 Ways to Self-Study Any Language

I have written briefly in the past about my language-learning adventure, first with French and then with Darija. However, I still have so many people constantly asking me, “How did you do it?” How have I gotten to the point where when I speak Moroccan Arabic people frequently get confused and ask me if maybe someone in my family is from Morocco? 

The truth is that it boils down to one thing. The fierce determination to feel like I belong. 

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A Solo Traveler’s Challenge | Letting Go + Staying Grateful When Things Are Out of Your Control

This is for anyone who, like myself, is a solo traveler at heart. 

Independent, strong-willed and perhaps a little bit of a control freak. 

I jumped head first into a traveling life with no one holding my hand, establishing my own sea-legs and defining myself by my independence. This was how I started, but things naturally change, evolve and eventually we make choices, both big and small, that challenge who we thought we were. 

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Bissara | Moroccan Split Pea + Fava Bean Soup

There is some strange relationship between me and the taxis in Tangier. It is rare that I have a normal, uneventful ride- usually there is some happening or detail about it that is worthy of a humorous retelling. At least half of my Morocco-related stories start with the phrase, “so I was in a taxi the other day…”

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Chocolate + Walnut Thumbprint Ghriba

It is a common cliché to have a chat about the weather when you have nothing else to talk about. However, I would like to preface the following weather-related chat by saying that in Tangier, each season brings a weird beast of its own and winter is most definitely something to be talked about. 

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Why Everyone Should Have the Experience of Being Foreign At Some Point in Their Life

There is a certain fact about myself that may seem rather obvious, but is something that I come face-to-face with on a daily basis. I am never going to be Moroccan. I can learn Darija to the best of my ability, I can learn how to cook tagines and couscous and know where to get the best zlefa de bissara in the city, know how to haggle with shop owners and carry on a decent conversation with my taxi driver. I could, I suppose, dye my hair darker, wear a djellaba every day, wear thicker make-up, but really none of this is ever going to make me native to this country. I will always be an outsider. A foreigner. Gauwria.

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Halwa d'Tmar (Moroccan Date-Stuffed Cookies) + A Virtual Midsummer Potluck for Peace

Living in a foreign country often involves picking up certain new habits and customs, nestling them into your daily life. Upon moving to Morocco, the first word I learned in Arabic was Salaam aalikoum.

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A Poem in Motion | Rumi + On Working Out During Ramadan

To this day, I cannot quite explain what compelled me to go on a run a couple hours before the ftour during only my second week of ever practicing Ramadan. I was (and still am) a sporadic runner to say the least, putting on my shoes and heading out usually only when feeling anxious, stressed or angry. Those are my running triggers. Yet there I was, my body on low power mode with no water or food burning up energy inside, and I decided that it sounded like a lovely idea to go for a brisk jog out in the last hours of bright sun. 

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Moroccan Chicken + Egg Briouats

My mind has been churning lately with all that is to come this summer, planning, making lists and sketches, and getting over-enthusiastic about packing. Sometimes I find it hard to wax on and on about life when I am so busy feeling it. Every time I try to write in these past couple days, all that comes out is something akin to poetry. Snippets and snapshots of these slow moving yet full days. 

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