Demetria hna. (Demetria is here.)

Wow. I am here. Finally here. I first flew from Las Vegas to Newark then from Newark to Madrid. An 8 hour flight which I did not sleep through any of it. I had a two hour layover in Madrid which I thought I was going to miss my next flight because I had to go through customs, get my bag, then check-in for my next flight. There was about a 30 minute delay before I boarded my Easy Jet flight to Casablanca. I saw so many women and children and thought I was going to scream. I was incredibly tired and I thought with my luck, I was going to be seated next to a rowdy child. I took my seat behind a teacher from Miami instead (Bruce was his name.) I was so happy to see an American face.

When we arrived to Casablanca, we stood in line at customs. This is when I first noticed how friendly Arabs are. The customs agent took his time putting stamps in each passport, making conversation with each face. At first I was a bit agitated, but I quickly compared this experience with the hasty encounter with the customs agent in Madrid. I decided that I preferrred the Arab way. When I reached the counter, the agent told me to follow Bruce. Apparently we needed some sort of stamp on our card that we filled out, but neither of us knew what he was talking about since he was speaking in Moroccan Arabic. Well, with trial and error we figured it out, got the stamp and we parted ways. After getting my bag from baggage claim, I had to find my cab driver with a card with my name on it. That took FOR-E-VER. But I found him, and quickly discovered he spoke French and Arabic. My first challenge upon my entrance into Al-Magreb.

After getting in his car, we began our journey to Al-Akhawayn University. I wanted to ask him how long it took to get there....I wanted to ask so bad....so I did. In my fahsa and all...and he understood! He even complimented me and all! I felt so accomplished! Well, my eagerness wuickly diminished with his answer that the ride was 4 hours. I sat and looked out the window. All I saw was beauty. People in the countryside....buildings....herds of cows...sun....God's beauty...God's creation. The humming of the car put me to sleep quickly....I woke a couple times only to fall asleep again. The last time I awoke we were 25 miles from Ifrane, the town the school was in. As we got closer, I only grew more and more anxious. We grew closer and closer...then we arrived. As we pulled up to the gates of Al-Akhawayn, I could do nothing but smile. I thanked the taxi driver and now the next challenge. The security guard only spoke French and Arabic as well. I warned him I didn't know much Arabic and then proceeded to answer his question. He also complimented me on my Arabic. I figured at this point that all those semesters of darasa must have did me good. The guard said a van would be there in a minute to pick me up. As I stood there, we made light conversation about why I was there, where I studied, all stuff I could answer! (score!) The van shortly arrived and I jumped in to find myself sharing the ride with 2 French students. We talked, exchanged our reasons for meeting at this point and time...then went our separate ways. This was just the beginning of what Morocco had in store for me. After I got my room key, I proceeded to my home for a month. As I walked in the cool air of al-Magreb, all I could say was thank you baby Jesus. You didn't have to allow me to be here, but you did because it was in your plan for me. There is something in store for me in Morocco. I can't wait to see what you want me to see. Thank you Jesus.