Regardless of how many countries one has visited, apparently culture shock is something one never becomes immune to. Little did I know as I stepped foot on an Emirates flight in Entebbe that despite just hopping over the Sahara, I was in for a culture shock. As the plane made the approach into Dubai I was dazzled by the glowing serpentine streets and the extravagant skyscrapers. My 9-hour layover in Dubai was no less dazzling. The airport was a glamorous affair with its fancy restaurants, glitzy shopping, distant ceiling supported by shining pillars, and even a forest and river. It was a full dose of Arab extravagance.
My next flight landed me in the no-so-extravagant Casablanca, but it was no less bedazzling. Its still Africa, but not the Africa I know. In all honesty, I stepped off the plane under prepared and was quickly at a loss amongst the madness. It wasn't the general city chaos that threw me off; it was more the abrupt fitting-in along with no common language to help make the unfamiliar a little bit more familiar. For me, nothing is more comforting than a big plate of food, but with Morocco's extensive and complicated cuisine along with tongue-tying Arabic and French pronunciations, even getting food did not come without its stresses.
But of course I managed. One may never be immune to culture shock, but
at least one can build up a tolerance for it and easily sweep it aside
and hit the ground running. Casablanca was only a quick introduction to
Morocco. Even though the city is interesting with lots of narrow
streets and old buildings to gaze at, I gave it little time because it
is rumored that the streets get narrower and the buildings older.
The Casablanca seafront.
The impressive Hassan II Mosque; third largest in the world.
Casablanca...not too bad.
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