I don't travel because I feel comfortable. I don't explore new places because I know I'll fit in, or because I know I'll naturally grasp the diverse context of culture and language in that location. I don't travel because I want to teach, change or improve the place where I'm going, nor because I feel the need to impart who I am to that place. I go, I move, I explore because for reasons of the exact opposite - to be challenged, to feel out of context, to be improved, to learn, to intake, to recollabrate and reset who I am.
Morocco was one of those places - an extrodinary journey of complex culture and ancient tradition, a rich interaction of people I observed and learned from, and a beautiful demonstration of remarkable kindness and generosity.
My favorite memory was meeting two women in a local cafe and making conversation in broken English/Arabic where they shared part of their life story with us. After we left, they found us later in the market and bought us charms by which to remember them and their country. They called us their friends, their sisters.
It didn't matter that we struggled to speak each other's languages, or came from traditions and backgrounds that were immensely unrelatable. We learned and we moved toward each other as women, as story tellers, as adventurers, as members of the human race. We were sisters. We were friends.