Monday, September 18, 2017

Under Pressure: Sink or Swim

This entry is late because this weekend was very stressful and I had limited access to wifi connection.

You are probably wondering  'why was she so stressed?' or 'is she ok?' Yes I am perfectly in good health, especially since that event is over. In this past weekend, I have grown a little and learned a lot. This weekend I traveled from Ifrane to Casablanca to Bilbao to Pamplona, Navarra and back again by myself. As you know from my previous entries, my first time traveling alone and internationally was the initial trip to Morocco. This weekend was the second.

Why would I put myself through the stress of traveling alone so soon? Well, an important thing to understand about my personality is that I may be a 'go-with-the-flow' kind of person when it comes to everyday situations, but when it comes to my education and future career plans I have a decently strict schedule and I do not like to stray from it. For those of you who do not know, I am currently working on my undergraduate degree in Political science with a minor in Arabic. My plan after completing this degree is to attend law school, particularly a program that combines Law and the Arabic language. In order to complete that aspiration, I needed to take the LSAT (Law School Admission Test) this semester. Now, the closest location to Ifrane, Morocco that administers that test is Pamplona, Navarra, Spain. Spain is relatively close to Morocco, however, this particular location is in one of the most northern parts of Spain. International travel was not going to stop me from taking this examination.

My trip began Thursday, September 14th at 10 am when the grande taxi that my roommate had so kindly called for me arrived at the university gates. I did not know what he looked like and I only had a general idea of what kind of car he could be driving. That is one positive side to looking different and standing out so much in Morocco--I am easy to spot and locate. So here I am, looking for any vehicle that could be my ride, receiving a lot of stares due to the fact that I was standing outside the gates in the morning. (Most people in Ifrane tend to not be out and about until later in the day, say maybe noon.) Right when I was starting to get worried that my driver would not be able to find me, a man came up to me and said "JessEka?" I said yes and quickly realized that he did not speak English. I asked if he knew my roommate and he told me her name, so I assumed and hoped that he was, in fact, my driver. He was the correct person. Along the drive, we spoke very little because I am still working on my conversation skills in Arabic. However, upon arrival to the train station, he pointed to the building and said: "train station" I smiled in response and said, "Mahata Alqitarr" (the Arabic translation for train station), he smiled back and then we said our goodbyes. Later I found that he called my roommate to let her know that I had safely arrived at the train station. It is amazing how much a stranger can care for another stranger.

The next leg of my trip began with my timid approach to the ticket counter. I approached and timidly said: "Hal Atakelm English?" However, the man that I asked was not selling tickets so he took me to a person who did sell train tickets, he repeated what I said to the man and they shared a laugh. Embarrassed I laughed too. Now they weren't making fun of me; in fact, it was quite the opposite, they were excited that I was learning Arabic. I know this because then they started asking me where I learned/am learning Fus'ha (Modern Standard Arabic). They were very pleasant and directed me to where I needed to go.

The train ride was very long and highly uneventful because I dozed for most of the ride. Now the exciting part comes with my arrival to Casablanca. I got to Casablanca three or more hours earlier than I had expected and three-plus hours before my Airbnb hosts were due to pick me up. I knew that even if I requested for them to come earlier, it would still be about two hours until the could be at the train station due to the distance. I really wanted to explore the city but I knew that being a woman, who stands out because I look so different, alone in a big city of Morocco was a bad idea. Just coming out of the train station alone was drawing more attention than I would have liked. I made a beeline for the first cafe that I saw for three reasons: to blend in some more, to not look lost, and I was very hungry and needed coffee. I approached a case that was filled with what looked like different kinds of meat. I asked if the man behind the case (I will call him Matt to protect his identity) spoke English, he said a little bit and I told him that I spoke a little bit of Fus'ha. I ordered coffee and sat sipping it, studying my LSAT flash cards, and people watching for about thirty minutes to an hour. I was seated outside and as men passed by my seat some would stare at me, while others would make comments in French, English, Arabic, or a combination of them. [Cultural adaptation: staring in Morocco is not considered rude, people are mostly just curious about what you are doing, especially when you look foreign]. I knew I had a lot of time to kill and I felt safest at this cafe. Ignoring those comments, I ordered a sandwich and talked to Matt as much as our combined, small knowledge of Fus'ha and English would allow. He had to go away to serve other people in the cafe; this is were the situation became mildly uncomfortableble. As soon as he was far away and preoccupied, two men did a triple-take and proceeded to talk at me, not to me. The one stood slightly behind the other, he stayed generally quiet while his friend did all of the talking. It went something like: "you have such beautiful eyes, you are a beauty, you need to be careful because you stand out. Men, not like me, will treat you badly and women will be jealous. Men are not going to be your friend, but I am your friend, I will protect you. Men will treat you like how you treat your sandwich". He went on little more, I was very confused because his English was broken and I'm not sure that I understood him correctly. I was a very weird interaction and seemed to last for ages. In reality it was probably a five minute interaction until the shop keeper and Matt came closer to me. This man and his friend quickly left. After that I noticed that Matt stayed closer to me and tried not to stray too far if he could help it. I felt very safe and protected due to the fact that Matt and the shopkeeper were watching over me. I proceeded to slowly eat my sandwich and then ordered a pot of tea. As I sipped my tea I took pictures of a cat nearby.
 
Finally, it was time to meet up with my Airbnb hosts. I had no clue who to look for, as their picture on the website was a landscape picture not them. I knew that I had one chance to find them because once I left the cafe, I no longer had any way to communicate with them: the train station did not have Wifi. I walked over slowly, looking for a couple who appeared to be searching for me. As I approached the entrance of the train station people turned and looked at me. I stand out, I look different, so of course people will watch me as I look around in a way that created an appearance of being lost. In the back of my mind I was thinking of back up plans if I couldn't find them. Then I heard a woman call my name as she walked up to me. We were both relieved and excited to find one another; we shared a large embrace followed by the 'kissing cheeks' motion. She directed me to the car where her husband was waiting for us. On the car ride we talked a little but not a lot because I was exhausted from my travels.

Upon arrival to their appartment I was astounded by the mere beauty of the apartment design. My picutres do not capture the full beauty. It was also dark by the time we arrived. They served my favorite tea, I took a few pictures, and promptly went to sleep because I knew I had a long travel still ahead of me.
 

 
The next morning I  showered, which I know is too much information, but something was very different about the shower set up than anything I'd ever seen before. I wish I would have taken pictures. The shower was right next to the toilet, which was next to the sink. There was no separation in the bathroom at all. It was all one room; after I finished my shower I had to squeegee the water toward the drain because it had spread to all over this room. I was very different, but I wouldn't say it was a bad thing, just interesting. Moving on, they took me to the airport after I was ready and I shortly after got on the plane. I had one plane change in Madrid. One thing that I have noticed from my, now three, experiences of international plane switches is THEY NEVER GIVE YOU ENOUGH TIME. I could also look at it from a positive lens: they give you exactly enough time. I say this because each time that I've had to switch planes, I have to go through a passport control/check line. These lines move fairly slow and each time I have been one of the last people to board the plane. Literally, I am THAT person who is rushing to the gate right as they are about to close the gate. However, I can't complain much because I have not missed a connection plane yet. *knock on wood* The views flying into Spain were amazing, but pretty much looked like every other place I've flown. In my opinion, almost everywhere has the same amazing level of beauty from a certain plane elevation. Yet, I always take pictures.


I knew that my bus would leave at 8:30 pm, what I didn't know was where it would leave from. Due to a prediction of such circumstances, and a consultation with my Mom, I booked the bus ticket in order to leave plenty of time between my flight landing and the bus departure. I asked every "information booth" in the airport about where I needed to go to catch my specific bus. The last person told me that I needed to catch a different bus to get to that bus station. I went to the booth allocated "bus ticket purchase". However, they wanted one and a half Euros, cash only. I was trying to figure out where I could get currency exchange when a woman paid for my bus ticket exclaiming "this is ridiculous they only allow cash purchase in an airport" she also said something along the lines of don't worry this essentially cost nothing. I thanked her many times and she proceeded to explain where I needed to get off the bus in order to catch mine. 

I finally arrived at the bus station extremely early. I went to the ticket counter to double check that my ticket was sufficient for the bus and she changed my bus ticket to a bus that was departing much earlier than the previous one. Let me just say, Northern Spain is gorgeous!


I was very grateful because instead of arriving at my destination at 11 pm, I would arrive around 8 pm. I finally got settled around 9:30 pm and called my family and boyfriend, whom I had little to no contact with for the past 10 hours, in  order to let them know I had made it to my destination safely. The next morning I got up early, went to the reception desk and asked them to call the University for me to inquire the exact location of the testing site. The individual on the phone told the receptionist that they had NO IDEA what she was talking about. She proceeded to explain further what my LSAT entry ticket had on it and what other sources that I had pulled up on my phone had, but the still claimed no knowledge of the test. My receptionist hung up and tried calling again. This time they said "oh that TEST IS NOT HAPPENING because the building CLOSES at the time that test is supposed to begin. At this point complete panic started to set in. HAD I TRAVELED ALL THIS WAY AND PAID THE MONEY FOR NOTHING?! I stepped away from the desk as she helped other customers. I promptly called my mom to explain what was happening and cried in a corner of the lobby and then wiped my tears away, recomposed myself, and approached the desk one last time. I asked her to call a taxi for me and thanked her immensely for all of her help. (One important piece of information I forgot to mention is that a scarce few actually spoke any English, I had to do most of my communicating in broken baby Spanglish). I directed the driver to take me to Universidad de Navarra, Edificio el Emigos. I approached the building and talked to the security guard who, thankfully spoke enough English to help me. He figured out that the test was, in fact, still happening, but the location had changed to a different building. I walked to that building to double check. At my summer job of catering, I learned that it is always better to double, and even triple check with numerous sources before assuming anyone is one hundred percent correct. The guard at this building did not speak any English. I communicated, half with google translate, half with what I knew, and figured out that it was in fact still happening in that building. I then took a taxi and put my bag in a locker because the LSAT test does not allow anything except: pencils, a highlighter, an eraser, snacks, your two forms of ID, the admission ticket, and an analogue watch. As I was waiting outside of the building another test taker walked by and told me that her and another were inside waiting. I joined them and soon after more people showed up. Once we were in the testing room we waited until 15 after the test start time to make sure everyone arrived to the correct location. Only 11 of us were there to take this test. After the intense 5 or so hours of testing, I walked with some of the girls to the central square, and they walked me to the bus station. 

I was finally done with the most stressful  part of my trip and could relax. I was on the bus and on my way to yet another location. 
 

 After a two hour bus ride I took, an extremely expensive, taxi to my Airbnb location near the airport. Due to the late hour of the night, the taxi was my only choice. When I arrived the apartment had a call button, the kind I had only seen in movies. I felt extremely childish because I had no clue that's what they were; honestly, I thought it was just a list showing what apartments were in that building. I tried to open the door, and then stared at the pad of numbers. The taxi driver must have been watching me the whole time because the next thing I knew, he was right next to me instructing me (in Spanish) what to do until he pressed the button himself. I was so embarrassed and relieved at the same time. I thanked him many times with the only 'thank you very much' phrase that I and majority of the non-Spanish speaking world, know: Muchas Gracias. The couple that greeted me at this Airbnb was a very cute, very elderly couple. They also spoke little to no English. I swiftly went to sleep as I knew that I only had a couple of hours until I needed to be up again. 

 I arrived at the airport at around 5:20 am. None of the food places appeared to be ready to serve anyone. So, I proceeded to check in and go through security. Once at my gate, I found a granola bar at the bottom of my bag and bought a water bottle from a vending machine. That was my breakfast, although my dinner was not much better: pistachios, I survived. During my connection flight I had the same rushed, last minute experience again, but I made it. When I finally arrived to Casablanca, I booked a train ticket and bought a second breakfast, or at that point one might call it lunch. I ate and had enough time before my train departed to be bored, but not enough time to do anything other than eat. This is a picture of just how exhausted and bored I was, luckily my phone had plenty of battery since I couldn't contact anyone.
The train that I got on had a stop in which I had to switch trains. I asked numerous people, including every official train station worker that I saw where my train was and if I was getting on the correct train. Every. Single. One. said yes. About an hour into my train ride a ticket-checker (I don't know the actual term) came by and told me I was on the wrong train, or at least that's what someone translated for me because he spoke rapidly in French and I knew that what ever he was saying would be too complex for my skill level in Arabic. The individual who translated for me asked if I could stay on this train because it was going to the same detination: Fes. The train worker said that I could but would have to move if someone with my ticket number came along. He didn't tell me where I would move to, so naturally I thought of the worst situation: that I would have to stand in between train cars for the remaining five hours. This, of course was not the case. Someone came who had the seat number of another individual in the train car. They did not have my number, but it appeared that there had been a mistake in the ticket sales. So they moved me to a different train car that was mostly empty. As I followed the worker, I was worried that he would kick me off the train at the next stop. However, he just directed me to a different seat and let me stay on the train until my final destination. I settled in and began to do my readings for the coming week's classes. 

Upon arriving to the train station in Fes, I knew, that in order to be comfortable, I needed to secure a taxi that would take me to Ifrane because I did not want to get stuck in Fes, alone, after dark. I skipped the whole process of seeing if anyone spoke English and just spoke to them in Fus'ha (Modern Standard Arabic). I tried asking them if anyone else was going to Ifrane at this hour, because taxis that are shared are far cheaper than paying for an entire grande taxi by yourself. That is when the person I was talking to asked what language I spoke naturally. I felt decently proud that he couldn't hear my American-English accent. I told him English and he started communicating only in English. He took me to the other grande taxis and they all explained the same thing: no one else would be going to Ifrane at that hour. So I had to pay for my own taxi. At that point I was so tired and annoyed at my situation that I just got in the taxi and they took me directly to the University. I think the driver felt my exhausted annoyance (which I feel bad for, but couldn't help) because he began having casual conversation. The casual conversation transformed to a history lesson on the area and places that he recommended I see while in Morocco. In the background he had Oldies style American songs playing. He was a very nice man and I am glad that, if I had to pay full price for a taxi, it was going to him. I arrived at campus hungry and thirsty, but exhaustion was winning. I went straight to my room and changed in to my pajamas. However, my friends convinced me to meet them at the cafe, where I ended up eating dinner and conversing with them over cups of tea.  I am very grateful for the friends that I have made at this University and became fully aware of their absence when I traveled solo. 

Tips from my experiences:
*Always think the best of people, and never assume they are out to offend you.
-With that said, also be aware of your situation and assess whether or not you are in imminent danger. Not everyone is out to get you; however, that are ill-willed people all around the world.
*Learn to laugh at yourself and with others, it will make the whole experience more pleasant.
 [Cultural adaptation: staring in Morocco is not considered rude, people are mostly just curious about what you are doing, especially when you look foreign]
*An important note* cat-calling is a world wide problem, it is not particular to any one place. You can expeirence it anywhere and everywhere.  DO NOT generalize the action of some as the actions of an entire community. The actions of one DOES NOT equate to the actions of all.'
*Before you travel abroad, learn key phrases: questions and responses, in at least three languages that surround your study location. I feel like that would have helped tremendously.

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