The Rocky Mountain Collegian

Issue date: 4/4/08 Section: News

Michael Sarmiento [Click to enlarge]

I had only a vague idea of what to expect from my immersion trip to Morocco during Spring Break. I am studying at Saint Louis University's Madrid Campus, and had little knowledge of Arab or Muslim culture. Disney's Aladdin, knowledge about some dangerous extremist groups, camels and sand dunes comprised the extent of my knowledge of Morocco's culture. Nevertheless, I tried to arrive with an open mind.

One of the most rewarding experiences during the immersion trip was discovering a culture completely different from mine. While living, working and eating with the Taoujdat community-the area in Morocco where we stayed-we were able to really get a taste of their day-to-day life.

Once arriving in Marrakech, a city in western Morocco, I immediately noticed that the "arrivals" sign was written in both French and Arabic. As I later found out, Arabic is the official language, but French is often the language of business, government and diplomacy.

While riding to the hotel, I noticed the streets were filled with automobiles, motorcycles, bicyclists and even donkeys, navigating without even the slightest signs of vigilance.

I later ventured into the medina, a bartering marketplace where one can find almost everything, including spices, knock-off Burberry purses, street performers and babouches, a traditional Moroccan leather shoe that comes in many different colors and designs. The student group I traveled with was often greeted with a smile and an invitation into the shops, though sometimes it was difficult to decipher if the natives were simply being kind, or making a ploy for our money.

Our next stop was lunch consisting of cous-cous, lamb, carrots, potatoes and mint, green tea, which was poured from about two feet above the glass. This technique, we learned, was done to aerate the tea and is just as crucial for the taste as is the quality of the tea leaves.

Our meal took place under the watchful eyes of King Mohammed IV, whose picture was above the restaurant's entrance.

We would soon discover that every building we entered during our 10 days in Morocco had a picture of King Mohammed IV. Could you imagine every household in the United States having a picture of President George W. Bush in their house?

Me neither.

While walking back to our hotel, we saw the traditional dress of the men and women in the city. Women wore hijabs, a traditional headdress covering their hair and often their face, but it wasn't just the women: Many of the men wore robes as well.

Although it was nearly 70 degrees, only the tourists wore shorts and tank tops.

We also heard the Adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, broadcast from the Koutoubia Mosque, which would also be the 6 a.m. wake-up call for the light sleepers in the group throughout our trip.

Nevertheless, seeing the Muslim dedication to prayer was eye-opening; At one point in the middle of a trip, one of our drivers pulled off to the side of the road, got out his prayer rug and washed his hands and face in the sand to pray before the sunset.

Even though I could not verbally communicate with the people, I was able to develop relationships with them, something that I originally thought impossible.

We too often base our knowledge of a culture different from our own on stereotypes. Instead, we should use our differences as an empowering humanizer rather than as an inhibiting immobilizer.


Michael Sarmiento is a sophomore in the College of Arts and Sciences, studying abroad in Madrid, Spain.

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