Learning the Daily Rhythm

One of the first things I’ve noticed about Rabat is that the city has its own rhythm, and it’s not quite the same as what I’m used to back home. It’s not just the time difference—it’s the way the day itself flows.

The mornings here start slowly. Shops and cafés don’t always open early, and the streets feel quiet until mid-morning. That has taken some adjustment, since in the U.S. I’m used to everything being open and buzzing at 7 a.m. By late morning, though, things pick up, and the city feels alive with people heading to work, school, or the market.

Five times a day, the call to prayer rises above the city. Even if you’re not Muslim, you can’t help but notice how it shapes the day. It doesn’t shut everything down, but it creates a moment of pause—a reminder that life is happening at a different pace here, with different priorities.

Meals also run on a different schedule than I’m used to. Breakfast might not happen until 10 or 11, lunch often falls around 1 or 2, and dinner at 7 or 8 is perfectly normal. The first time I realized I hadn’t eaten lunch until mid-afternoon, I thought I was running behind, but here, that’s just the rhythm. And no meal—or snack, or even casual meeting—seems complete without mint tea. It’s served steaming hot and sweet, poured from a height into small glasses, and it somehow fits every part of the day.

A picture of a teapot and a cup of tea sitting on a table on an outside terrace.

Dinner, especially, is an experience. I went to one that began at 7:30 p.m. and didn’t leave until after 11. It wasn’t unusual, just the normal pace of things. Courses arrive slowly, conversations stretch between bites, and no one seems in a hurry to move on to the next thing. It’s leisurely and it’s refreshing.

I’m also learning that the city itself has waves of energy. The medina feels busiest in the afternoon and evening, while the boulevards by the water draw people out for evening walks just as the sun sets. By the time I head back home, I’ve often logged miles of walking without even realizing it.

It’s early days still, but falling into step with Rabat’s rhythm has been both grounding and refreshing. I’m learning to let go of my own sense of what the “right” schedule should be and instead pay attention to the one unfolding around me.

A picture of a tajine with bread, a small salad, and a teapot behind it.