Morocco Part 2: “The Desert Will Call You Back”
I’m going to be vulnerable here - no other trip I’ve taken has been as transformative as my 2022 journey to Morocco. An “oasis in the desert” fascinated me in my teens and Moroccan culture carries a weight of history I’ve always wanted to experience up close. Going on my own, however, was never in my plans. I believe it was God’s timing to have some one-on-one time when He knew I had a desire to listen.
The opportunity to go to Morocco came at a time when I had fresh energy to live out loud; a feeling that had been suffocated for years. When I tried to dream of anything, I fell flat. My dreams were on the lowest vibration for basic needs - and even those were big dreams I was struggling with. For years, my imagination was at an all time low. It was solely through prayer and a 6am boot-camp class to move my body that the dark clouds finally retreated to sunshine. I could feel gratitude again! I could laugh at simple things and not feel like an idiot. Finally, I was on my way to start asking myself questions about my life, I could answer with love instead of shame. I could be me again - but it had been so long. I was scared I would never get back to real joy.
Travel has always the “it” for me, and I renewed my passport, 5 years past expiration. I was already booked to travel to Argentina with a digital nomad group when I got and email about their next destination the following January- Marrakech, Morocco. A Sign?
I was big on questioning God back then. Wondering IF He still had power for me; the prodigal daughter who fell off. But shout out to my mother. She WOOO’d with me reading that email and I hadn’t even pulled the trigger. “This is so exciting!” she exclaimed, like the flight was that afternoon. Because it wasn’t about the trip - it was about me taking baby steps back into the world.
My first solo days in Marrakech had my heart beating out of my chest with trepidation in every step. But this is what we came for. I wandered the bustling medina with a single earbud for navigation and hung on to Siri’s instructions. The voices in my head were new - they were forgiving of wrong turns. They encouraged me to walk farther, and to explore the city outside of the medina. The literal volume of my fears were drowned out by the sounds of daily calls to prayer and exhilarating motorcycles whizzing past me in the streets. I felt no danger, only strength - and how refreshing it was.
Sahara Prep:
After a few days of getting to know the city, I booked my tour to the Merzouga- the gateway to the Sahara Desert. It would be a 2 night excursion with one of those nights spent in a desert tent in January. I made sure I geared up with warm clothes and found a shop with a man named Mohsen who was amazed by me.
“You are Moroccan living in America? '' he asked after a delightful exchange showing me the different colors of traditional djellabas I would need for my trip.
“No, I’m African American, but I don’t know where in Africa my ancestors are from.”
“I think you are Moroccan” he joked and offered me tea.
We had a few cups of tea and he assured me that the desert would not be that cold. I winced and laughed, but he continued on and told me “Africans are usually okay in the desert” and that I would be fine. He might have had a quick crush on me, but I believed him. That word belief.
Sunrise, Day 1 of the tour, I got a text from my Aunt who often checks in on me (because she loves me!) I texted how excited and nervous I was to be sleeping in the cold, but that I was praying I would be warm. She too assured me, “God hears all prayers”.
We drove through the snowcap peaks of the Atlas mountains but the cold was the last thing on my mind. It wasn’t that cold, and just look around! I was worthy of this majesty because God wanted me here - here on earth. The chill of the mountain air was evidence it was real. I felt unconquerable, but still alone. We still had hours and a night ahead of until we reached the Sahara. So there was more? More than I ever expected.
Our bus was a group of twelve, and only one other solo traveler, Frank. He was a student studying in Birmingham, England on exchange from China. After a full day of being the quiet selfie-queen, he came up to me and asked me if I was by myself. I sheepishly answered “yes.” almost embarrassed I had been so anti-social all day. He said “me too! Do you want me to take your picture?” From that moment on, I had a buddy - a cool one at that, thank God! When we arrived to our overnight hotel in Tinghir he said he wanted to explore the town, even though we had a super early wake up call. We hit the deserted streets for a stroll and chatted about our families, traveling and just LIFE, man. What a gift and I’m so grateful God sent me a friend.
We were up at sunrise the next morning to see the incredible Todra Gorges along the Todra River. The pictures below don’t capture the size and the overwhelming head-spin I got looking up. We were led by a local guide who would share the history of the region, explain the importance of the Kasbahs and the culture of the Amazigh ethic group and traditional Berber culture. Amazigh is also the native language of the Berber and vast majority of Moroccans. They teach the language in schools and is the predominate language spoken in homes. So yes, they speak Arabic and French and English - what else you got? - but if you ask them what they speak - the answer is Amazigh.
I also learned that in the Berber alphabet, the zed character simply reads “freedom”. Traditionally nomadic, the Berber take great pride in the freedom to live in the mountains without westernization and modern ways, so powerfully, the zed is the dominate image of the Berber flag.
That stuck with me the rest of the trip. Here I was, freshly free from of mental bondage only to find a flag waving proudly for me.
When we finally reached the Mergouza and entered the Sahara, we were assigned (and named) our camels and spent an hour of slow marching to the sound of nothing. The sounds of the city disappeared into silence as we marched further to our camp site. Mid-journey we stopped on the dunes and I gullied up the courage to hit the sandboard down what was probably a 30ft dune. Getting back UP that boy, was an incline for the “in-shape”. But what can’t I do at this point? Frank and I traded off being each other’s personal photographers and had a blast. Little did the group know, I was watching more than the sunset - i was waiting - for the inevitable freeze. When the sun goes down in the desert, the temperature drop is immediately and ALL of the light vanishes - surely this would be the reckoning.
When we reached camp, it still wasn’t cold-cold, but certainly nothing something you sleep in? I was thrilled to see the tents were glamp-ish, equipped with functioning light switches and more than enough wool blankets. They does this - fear Wat?! I was elated - maybe the adrenaline from the sand dunes, but either way, my fear of freezing was an old silly thought. We had a delicious dinner of lamb tagine and joined a fireside drum circle until bed time. I slept in everything but my shoes (including gloves) and felt the warmth of my body ease me to sleep. I woke up the next morning snuggly-warm and at peace. The first thing I did was smile with a whisper to myself “i did it"..” - I made it. My prayers had worked and I was going to enjoy the sunrise of another day. Cue Little Dragon, “Rush”!
The next morning our guides showed us how to start a fire with camel droppings before we hit the trail back to the edge of the Mergouza. I’ve never known a feeling of peace like that morning - a knowing that God is watching over me in every moment of my life. What a trip THAT is.
Leaving Morocco, I got in my transfer to the airport and my driver asked me “how did I like Morccco?” I told how I went to the Sahara and how amazing it felt listening to the silence. I tried to explain that I wasn’t ready to leave, and I felt like I was just getting started after such an experience.
He knew exactly what i was talking about - without skipping a beat he said “don’t worry, the desert will call you back. Listen to God, He will tell you when.”
and I’m not even preaching, I’m just saying...
““He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day, nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness...
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