Traversing the dirt paths of my community it is impossible to reach my destination without exchanging countless greetings and receiving numerous invitations for tea. Elaborate greetings involving handshakes and kisses on the cheeks, heartfelt well wishes and warm smiles are a part of everyday interactions; even among strangers. Family and community are the focus of life in small towns like mine and a large emphasis is placed on cultivating personal relationships. Following this spirit of commune, hospitality of the highest caliber is built into every aspect of life.
"Mrhaba", I have been told innumerable times, “You are welcome here.” I have shared mint tea, bread, and homemade sweets at the homes of countless neighbors and community members. I have been offered the best of food and drink in communities where there is not always enough to go around. I have been greeted and embraced by strangers and welcomed at intimate social gatherings.
Living in Morocco, I have seen that the warmth and generosity of the Moroccan people extends far beyond social niceties and cultural norms. It is translated into relationships of the highest quality. No greater evidence exists than the interactions I’ve had with my two host families, both during training and now at my site. I have had the privilege of living with and learning from truly wonderful people and in the process have formed friendships and learned lessons that will last a lifetime. I have not only been made to feel welcome in my host families and communities, but a part of them. I am called "utma" meaning "sister", by the women in my families and, on many levels, I feel that I am.
I’ve felt it through the encouragement of my language learning, through the enthusiasm I am met with when helping to cook, in hugs, kisses on the cheeks, in dancing, in jokes, in the way my sisters hold my hand on our daily walks through town, and in the special vegetarian meals my families have graciously made without complaint. I’ve seen it in the countless ways my families have helped me to adjust to a new culture and in small gestures such as waiting with me at the bus station the first time I traveled alone.
I have also seen it in the genuine concern family members have shown for me. During my nine weeks of training I had to leave my site for a few days due to illness. The members of my community continuously asked where I was and if I was alright. When I arrived back, I was greeted with indescribable enthusiasm by neighbors, and above all, by my host family. My family later described to me their feelings about the incident as, “It was like the whole family was sick. We worried about you and missed you so much. A piece of us was missing.” For people to not only open their home to me, but to care for me as they would a member of their own family, is one of the most beautiful experiences I’ve ever had.
When I first arrived in Morocco, the idea of being far from family and friends for over two years was overwhelming. I worried about feeling lonely and isolated and about how I would adapt. I have come to see that there are people here who love me, care about me, and worry about me like my own family does. Thousands of miles away from the familiar, in a rural Moroccan town, I am not only welcome, I am home.
