First Impressions

Are we more lucky the harder we work or is there an imaginary coin somewhere there always falls our way? I feel like both my experience abroad have started off so much better then I ever imagined. On the United flight from Chicago to Paris, I chatted about travel, professions, and passions with an inventor from San Francisco called Sasha, until he moved seats to sit next to his father. Originally I was annoyed that I was sitting in the very absolute last row of the plane, but as it turned out, the seat next to me was reserved as an emergency seat for a flight attendant. Therefore I was the only person on the plane able to stretch out over two seats during the nine hour flight. Aside from the turbulence the upset my tea cup several times and bad movies with poor sound quality, we arrived in Paris to beautiful sunny skies. As we were leaving the plane to go through customs, Sasha told me again to follow my passions and handed me his email address. I guess it’s always cool to know an inventor in San Fran. :)

I transferred to my Air Maroc flight and fell asleep even before we left the runway. I woke up upon our descent to Rabat, and while I would have much rather slept, I peered out the window to see a carpet patchwork of green and red stripes woven across the ground. The closer we got, I started to pick out mud huts and humble shacks next to the fields; the thought crossed my mind, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” A female customs officer checked me through to the chintzy hotel lobby-like Rabat airport, so small it consisted of one snack bar, a currency exchange desk and a sign pointing towards taxis.

I found a decent looking taxi to take me into the city, and within five minutes from the airport, saw a compellation of donkey carts, skinny scooters driven by boys, men and veiled women alike and even a grandiose Hummer navigating the traffic jam of streets. I arrived at the apartment tired and feeling dirty but excited to have such a beautiful apartment waiting for me.