#howdoigetthere

[thelittlehero]

Deana Carter - How Do I Get There

So this randomly popped into my head today. So. Much. Yes.

[delirious-dame]

This is an exact representation of what you feel like when you step out into the #real #world #imsotiny #howdoigetthere #bandra

[emily-moore-please-blog-blog]

Marrakech

Moore, E. (Photographer). (2009). Marrakech Souks [Print Photo].

  When I was 19 years old, I took an au pair position with a British family in Luxembourg. On our first “family” vacation, I vividly remember being nudged out of the car at the Jemaa el-Fnaa Square in Marrakech, with a promise of, “We’ll be back in about 4 hours. Enjoy yourself.” I spoke no Arabic, and my French was broken, at best and I had never stepped foot in a Moroccan square in my life. My experience was practically identical to the couple in the news article. I was out of my element, in every way possible. I remember watching my host family drive away and thinking, “Where do I even start?” I walked around cautiously, my 100€ tucked safely in my waistband fanny pack that was so cleverly hidden under my very American attire. They knew I was an American even before I had opened my mouth, and much like Maura, I knew that if I went in to this adventure without a clear plan, I had no chance at finding the 10+ gifts I needed to bring home for my obnoxiously large, but endearingly, family. I knew that this required an open mind, and also, I had to get over the fear that I would offend the people with my lack of ability to communicate. I wanted so badly to just be a local, and to blend in, but that was impossible. The first Souk I walked into was a pretty little tent, with traditional Moroccan shoes lining the walls, in a rainbow variety of different colors and materials. Before I could even look though, I was surrounded by at least three young men trying to sell me a variety of different sizes and colors. I barely remember the following 10 minutes of being in that tent. “What size do you need?” “What is my favorite color?” and “What part of America are you from?” are clips of a conversation that is still very fuzzy. I left feeling defeated and hopeless.

Maura and Scott took a similar route that I had, by pulling out of the stressful situation, and taking notes on things that they could do differently. I walked to the center of the Square, looked around and took it all in. I bought an orange juice from one of the vendors selling fresh made drinks and local street food, and spent 15 minutes, wandering from shop to shop, taking mental notes of how the bargaining actually worked, and that items I needed to buy verses the things I wanted to purchase. I took out my phone and pulled up my photos of my family, before walking into a souk, and headed straight for a younger guy who looked my age. “Can you help me?” I asked in the best French I could muster, and he smiled at me knowingly, “Sure, I can.” He responded in very nice English. I proceeded to talk to this young man’s ear off about my many sisters and brothers and how I just wanted to find them ALL the perfect gifts. By taking control of the situation, and mapping out a plan, I was able to find someone who understood my position and was willing to help me. The young man, in turn, told me of his brother’s tent, as well as his uncle’s. When my host family picked me up, I think they were surprised at how well I had done; but I think when it comes down to it, human connections and a good disposition are always the best things to bring with you when you travel.

[branwen-z]