Walking through Tangier is an experience in itself. I come from a small town in Massachusetts on the border of Connecticut; what you could consider cow-town. I am used to backroads, farms, no street lights and only the sound of peepers at night. Being exposed to the city life has opened my eyes up to another world.
Living in the city has been more of a culture shock to my senses, than it has been to myself. The city is always full of new noises- like those of sirens of ambulances, "bee doe bee doe bee doe.." that remind me of nothing more than the minions in the movie Despicable me. New smells- like abundance of spices used in traditional moroccan cooking. New sights- city lights and an orange glow illuminating off the clouds at night.
Upon leaving campus, I find myself one of the more quiet streets with only a few houses. I take a right and walk up a steep hill towards the American School Gates and the wall of the Spanish consulate. When I reach this main road there are many cars creating a traffic jam as parents impatiently wait for their children to get out of school. I take a left and continue walking uphill and pass a small bakery with homemade treats full of nuts and sugars very different from those in the US. The bakery is followed by a day-care center with colorful gates and windows that look like children's toys. Petite taxi's speed by and look like a turquoise blur to pedestrians. I come to the intersection of the next main street at a rotary- a Moroccan roundabout is one of the scariest things i've witnessed since i've been here. Theres no speed limit, no right of way. The cars beep to claim their order in the traffic circle. Quite frankly, I think most drivers would be more safe if they were to close their eyes and just go for it.
I continue walking to the right this time, and the city life starts to unravel itself. People fill the streets, and the sound of cars swallows me. I become part of the city; not just a pedestrian, but one more aspect making the city more diverse. Men, young and old, stare and often make comments towards me. I'm never surprised when strangers wave to me or call me a "beautiful flower". These men will often shout "mama mia" or "hola" as many people from Spain come to visit the area. Women in this culture, however, are not as vocal as men. Women often do not make eye contact with me. When they do it is beyond mysterious. Their glare is one like no other; one of disgust or maybe the absence of thought at all. As I have now been here for a month, I understand that our culture is a lot different than that of the Arab nation. I now try to smile at the women here whenever eye contact is made. I believe that a gesture as small as a smile makes me less vulnerable to the stereotype of a "typical american". I am here not to intrude on the culture, but rather to understand and embrace it. I have found that this is, in fact, a universally understood gesture as more and more women will look at me and smile back- which is more welcoming than speaking at all.
As I approach the mosque, I find myself at another rotary and am almost in the center of the city. I wait for the green light before I cross the road, as pedestrians do not have the right of way. The streets are packed with petite and gran taxis driving as many as 6 passengers to their various destinations amongst the city. Men walk towards the mosque as the call to prayer is announced over the entire city in a disconsolate manner. When the call to prayer first rang through my eardrums it sent cold shivers throughout my body.
Men take their shoes off, and enter the mosque. The follow one person and pray toward the direction of Mecca. It's not as common for women to pray in the mosque, but when they do they must enter through the back door, where a wall separates them from the men. When someone cannot go to the mosque to pray, it is not uncommon to pray on a mat wherever they may be.
A few minutes down the road from the mosque I can head towards the medina, or towards Mexico Street, but those are both a story of their own which must wait for another day.
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