This past summer my boyfriend, Brian, and I traveled around various cities throughout Europe. We traveled from Madrid to Barcelona, to Amsterdam and Santorini. We even made our way to Africa, making a stop in Marrakesh, Morocco. Although we were only there for three days, I learned a lot about this culture’s values, and the trip opened my eyes to a completely new world that I would have never seen before.

The second we stepped off the plane and into the tiny airport, I was 50 percent sure we made the wrong decision to put this on our list of places to visit. Once we got through the scary customs officers, we went outside to find the car that would be taking us to our Riad. It was around 9 o’clock at night as we scanned the crowd, hoping to find our driver quickly. I clung to Brian’s arm and was relieved when we saw a man standing with a sign that read “Riad Miski,” which was the place we would be staying. We introduced ourselves to our driver and quickly realized it would be a very silent ride to our Riad because he did not speak any English. As we drove through the city, I remember having this overwhelmingly anxious feeling consume me. After a while of driving, our car pulled onto a cobblestone street that could barely fit a car and was exploding with people. There were people selling food, riding around on street bikes, singing, dancing, and I thought, “Great, the driver must be lost. There is no way this is where we’re staying." I was wrong. At this point I was 100 percent sure we made the wrong decision to come here. As soon as we stepped foot out of the car, I felt everyone’s eyes fixate on us. The driver handed us our bags from the trunk and we were greeted by our hosts at the Riad. They led us out of the busy street and into a dark alleyway to a door that someone would completely overlook, even in the day time. My nerves calmed down as we made our way through the Riad and I took in the beauty of the traditional Moroccon décor.

The next morning we got an early start and went upstairs to the terrace for breakfast. This was where we met Ahmed. Ahmed was probably our favorite thing about our entire trip to Morrocco—besides riding a camel in the desert, but I'll get to that in a little while. Ahmed had been working and living at the Riad for a few years. He apologized for his broken English, but we assured him that he was doing just fine. He told us he was working on learning Spanish, too. He told us about how he had moved to Marrakesh and that he had to leave his family to find work. Ahmed was born and raised in the Sahara Desert, and talked about the small village where he grew up, explaining that the only way to travel to and from his village was by ATVs. Call me naïve, but I didn’t even know it was possible for people to live in the desert.

After breakfast we decided to go out and explore the city of Marrakesh. I don’t think the temperature ever went below 98 degrees while we were there, so my outfit for the day was high-wasted shorts and a tank top. As we made our way through the busy streets trying not to get run over by the zooming street bikes and trying to read the map without looking like complete tourists, I felt the piercing stares glaring at me as I walked by. As we walked deeper and deeper into the city the stares were starting to make me uncomfortable, and I couldn’t understand why I was getting these looks. I soon realized that the stares were because of my outfit since the majority of Moroccans are Muslim and it is typical for women to be dressed head to toe without revealing skin. I decided to change my clothes to respect their culture, but the stares continued as I was easily distinguished as a foreigner.

We ended our first night with a visit to the city square where small groups of people gathered to sit before various entertainers. There were small circles of people engaging in different activities all in close proximity to each other. Some groups were meditating and praying, other groups stood patiently before a story teller or a magician, and some stood singing and dancing before musicians playing music. We made our way through a few of the groups and walked passed street vendors before we got some ice cream and headed back to the Riad.

The remainder of the trip included various activities including getting lost in the souks (Arab markets) that had woven a complex pattern of dirt paths, riding a camel for two hours through the dessert to a small house to have a traditional Moroccan brunch, and having an authentic Moroccan dinner complete with couscous and chicken tagine. Now, despite how terrified I was the first night we got there (I’ll admit now that I may have been slightly overreacting), the entire experience was eye-opening, and it was surreal to step into a different culture that differs so much from the western world that I have lived in and been exposed to my whole life. I love traveling and experiencing what it’s like to see the world through the eyes of the locals and partake in the culture as much as possible. Morocco is one place that I will never forget.