Well, to start, I left London with my baggage in search of the Yotel. Yotel is essentially a Japanese style overnight hotel which rents rooms by the hour. Once inside the Yotel, I proceeded to my room, which was a 7 square meter room. To give you an understanding of the vast size of the room, consider a mini van with a bathroom, a bed, and a television. It was actually quite nice, but living in such a thing for more than a few hours would make anyone feel claustrophobic. At 3 AM, my alarm went off and I got ready to leave and bolted out the door, but not before cutting my hand on something in the room. I knew that I would not be able to take the Tube to Terminal 1, where I was flying out of, but I was not ready for the difficulty of getting to Terminal 1. As I noticed the lifts to Terminal 1 were not open, I requested a taxi driver take me there. Unfortunately for him and me, I woke him up in his car. I jumped in the taxi and we began our journey. I accidentally instructed him that I was looking for Terminal 3, but I quickly corrected myself. The car rolled on and the toll climbed. Finally, we arrived at a Terminal 3, the wrong terminal. I got out of the car and decided that this guy was not worth paying any more money than the 19 pounds I had given him. He got the last laugh. Jerk. From there, I ran into Terminal 3 and got instructions regarding how to get to Terminal 1. So, I arrived in Terminal 1 with plenty of time and got searched because my hand was still bleeding. However, I grabbed a bacon sandwich at the shop, and everything was wonderful again!
I got on the plane without any problems and quickly flew to Portugal. The country looked beautiful and I attempted to use the little Brazilian Portuguese that I had learned. Eu no fallu Portuguese (I don’t speak Portuguese). The authorities in Portugal appreciated the attempt. I guess having worked at Dunkin Donuts had its’ benefits!
I flew out of Portugal and dozed in and out of consciousness and was awoken by the flight attendant touching my shoulder and offering lunch. The sandwich, consisting of sweet bread, coconut, and ham was surprisingly delicious. I knew that I needed to enjoy my last ham before my four-month stay without being able to eat a delicious little Piglet.
And there it was. Africa… Sure, it didn’t seem possible that there was this completely foreign continent. While Europe was different, there were many comparisons to the United States. Even my brief stay in Portugal reminded me of Milford! However, this country that we flew over immediately appeared to be much different that the Western world. Initially, it could have passed at Kansas or Ohio, a place with fields for farming littering the ground. These patches of farms stretched as far as the eye could see. And then I saw highways and roads with some cars. As the plane further descended to the ground, I saw exits of dirt roads. It appeared as if exits were simply a place where a group of individuals decided to create a dirt road.
The airport in Casablanca was typical of any traditional airport. I crossed through the border without any problems or need to claim any materials. I found the IES representative at the airport, Sabeer, and I met the other three other IES students studying in Morocco and the head of the program Sidi (Mr.) Muhammed.
We began a quick trip to the Hotel and drove through a shanty town and arrived at our destination, the Atlas Hotel. It was here that we experienced our first food in Morocco, American-style Pizza, and met our first Moroccans.
(As I write, I will attempt to name all of the 21 students in my program. Luckily, none share the same name).
I chose my pizza because Sidi Muhammed recommended that we do not eat the Moroccan food for two reasons. First, the sauce contains extra oil that Americans are not use to digesting and Second because Moroccan wives are infamous for their cooking abilities and no restaurant could attempt to create a worthy imitation of home-cooked food.
That night, we students attempted to find the last semblance of American influence through the use of Wi-Fi. With a sketchy connection, I finally connected to the Internet and made a few phone calls. It was there that I noticed my internet usage will really be very limited. Therefore, I will write my blog without the connection and post at my first convenience. I was exhausted and ready to sleep. Luckily, I did not need to combat the jet-lag that other students were dealing with.
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