It’s one thing to be a white female, with tattoos and a piercing, in a Muslim country, but it’s a whole other story when you’re there in the middle of Ramadan! I had just graduated from university, and haven’t been able to travel for a few years; I therefore decided to take my friend’s invitation to go on an adventure in his home country.



A few weeks before leaving, I ordered a travel book on Morocco that I read cover to cover under the laugh of my friend who thought it was a waste of time. Turns out, I learned a lot of things about his country: what is a must to visit, the history and culture, and most importantly, how to behave. Now in love with my book, I obviously brought it with us on our adventure, well, guess who kept on walking around the country with the book in his hand? Wasn’t such a bad idea after all eh!

But first, before leaving I had to pack my stuff. Knowing Ramadan was starting halfway through my 3 weeks vacations, I had to dress accordingly. Being in a Muslim country while it’s Ramadan and you’re a guy, it’s OK. You can wear, and do what you please; but if you’re a girl, not so much. After going shopping for many t-shirts, and capris, I was good to go!



Usually, what you know of a country that you have never been to, is whatever people or the television told you. In my case, I added what I learned in the book I read. I always thought of Morocco as a country where the women had no rights, no jobs, and was forced to do as they were told. Unfortunately, I had that vision of the country because of what I saw on the news, even if the book was a really good selling product for the country. Fortunately, after my first night in Morocco, I was happily surprised to see that my vision of the country was way off. I knew at that point that these 3 weeks vacations were going to be one to remember.



On my second day in Africa, I decided it was time to end my parent’s agony by sending them an email to let them know I arrived safe and sound in Rabat, Morocco’s capital city. When I first decided to join my friend on this adventure, I was afraid my parents wouldn’t let me go. I wanted my parents blessing. I didn’t want to tell them over the phone, and I wanted to make sure I had all the arguments in the world. I wanted to be prepared. On a longue weekend in July, my friend and I left Montreal, and hit the road down to New Brunswick to surprise my parents. Over the weekend, I finally had the chance to talk to them, when I finished my speech, all they said was: Ok, have fun! I was agape. I still had all sorts of valid arguments, and my final weapon: my nonrefundable plane ticket that I bought 2 days before going to see them, just in case.



First thing we did on our second day was hitting the beach with my friend’s brother and girlfriend. I will always remember the moment I got out of the car, and there it was; my first camel! I wanted to have my first ride, but the guys told me to wait to a better spot. One week later, we were staying in Merzouga, a little city in the middle of the desert. Perfect spot for my first ride on a chamel! We then booked an hour tour with a guide working for the hotel. The tour started at 4:30 am and we were going for a ride on a camel in the sand dunes to see the sunrise. For the occasion, I was wearing a traditional dress I bought in the famous market Jemaa el-Fna at Marrakech. Talk about the experience of a life time!



On our third day, we left Rabat to stay in Marrakech for a few days. We drove around the route of the Great Atlas, chain of mountains crossing the country, made our way to Ourika and back. After Marrakech, we stayed one night in Agadir at a family’s friend. Their house was a typical Moroccan house, with the typical Moroccan bathroom. You know, the hole in the floor with specific places to put your feet they call a toilet? When you stay in a Moroccan family (or at any hotel really) if you are not a married couple, they will usually not allow boys and girls to sleep in the same room. Here, they didn’t have any choice. The lack of empty rooms in the house forced the family to let me sleep in the living room with the guys (my friend and his brother), after making sure I was at the other end of the living room, alone on my side. That sleeping arrangement was fine with everyone, better than the sleeping arrangement we had in my friend aunt and uncle’s house in Errachidia where it was the same problem. Instead of letting the boys sleeping in the same living room as me, they made them sleep on the balcony! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining, I slept great on the comfy couch with a roof over my head!



At that point of my vacation, Ramadan had started. Ramadan is a religious tradition where the Muslim cannot eat or drink from sunrise to sunset during one month which means that during the day I was the only one eating. The guys would eat at dusk and dawn the same big meal, every time.



I realized that the generosity of the Moroccan has no boundaries. Including the fact that we were welcomed in many homes to share meals and have a free place to stay the night, my friend’s Dad made a dinner reservation for me at one of the local hotel in the city of Kalaa Magouna when we were on our way to Boumalne du Dadès for the night. When we got there, we had the most beautiful table with the most unbelievable view. On the table, there was a big fest waiting for me (since the guys were doing Ramadan, it was all for me), courtesy of the director of the hotel.