Recent Posts

Let’s talk about something that people often ask me about, but that doesn’t usually make it into polished travel blogs: catcalling. Does it happen in Morocco? Absolutely. But here’s the part I wasn’t expecting — it has often been the most polite  catcalling I’ve ever experienced, and it rarely carries the edge of aggression I’ve felt elsewhere. Most days, it sounds like: “Hello, welcome to Morocco!” “You’re very beautiful!” “Hi — you look pretty today!” And my personal favori

Christmas looks very different in Morocco. As a predominantly Muslim country, the holiday isn’t widely celebrated here, and while that’s something I respect and appreciate, I found myself missing a bit of the seasonal magic that usually sneaks in around this time of year. So I did what felt like the best solution: I took a quick long weekend trip to Vienna to soak up Christmas markets, cold air, and twinkling lights. I even bought a jacket and scarf specifically for this trip

Over the past few weeks, my time in Morocco has taken me south — first to Ouarzazate, then to Agadir — two places that couldn’t feel more different, yet both left a strong impression. Ouarzazate I traveled to Ouarzazate with a group of fellow Fulbrighters to help run workshops at the cinema school there. Over two days, we watched two films with students and spent time discussing media, storytelling, and how perception is shaped through film. The conversations were thoughtful,

This weekend, I had the absolute honor of attending a Moroccan wedding — my friend Safaa’s brother was getting married, and their family welcomed me into the celebration with open arms. Safaa described it as a “humble” wedding, but to me, it felt extraordinary in every possible way. From the moment I arrived, it was clear that this was a celebration built on joy, tradition, and community. The women celebrated separately from the men, a custom that creates space for women who

Thanksgiving looked a little different this year — okay, a lot different — but somehow it became one of the most memorable ones I’ve ever had. There was no morning spent chopping vegetables in a familiar kitchen, no parade playing in the background, no rush to get the timing right on four different dishes. There wasn’t even the crisp Maine air that always seems to arrive just in time for the holiday. Instead, I found myself walking through Rabat in mild November weather, head

One of the things I’ve been thinking about lately is how comfort shows up in daily life here in Morocco. Not the big, dramatic moments — the travel stories, the long train rides, the weekend adventures — but the small habits and familiar rhythms that ground my days. The little things that make living in a new place feel less like an adjustment and more like… life. It’s easy to get caught up in the excitement of being somewhere completely new. But it’s the everyday comforts th

This past weekend, I traded my usual routine in Rabat for a visit to Safi, where my friend and fellow Fulbrighter, Catherine, is living and teaching. The train ride was long — about five and a half hours — but it was the kind of journey that lets you settle in, read, stare out the window, and watch the landscape shift from coastal city to open fields to the quieter stretch of Morocco’s Atlantic coast. By the time I arrived, it already felt like a small adventure. Catherine wa

From my rooftop, the city feels different. Quieter, even though it isn’t. I can still hear the hum of cars, the call to prayer, the clinking of dishes from the restaurants below — but it all blurs together into background noise. Down on the street, there’s always something happening. Two restaurants side by side stay busy late into the night. Across the street, there’s a hanut , one of those small corner shops that sells everything you need — water, eggs, chips, tissues, SIM