Done it all

Yesterday, T and I took the new tram in Rabat. I think this means that we have now used every mode of public transportation available in the country of Morocco (with the exception of intra-country flight, which seems like a fairly rare way of getting around within Morocco, and in any case we have used flight to go to and from the country). We have used petits taxis, grands taxis, the bus, the train, and the tram. Many times, these modes of transportation must be used in combinations that can be exhausting. (Yesterday, for example, we used everything but bus to get to, around, and back home from Rabat.)

If you are from or have lived in a big city like New York or Tokyo or Hong Kong, you're probably wondering why this is worth noting on my blog. You have to understand that I grew up in rural Nebraska and didn't even ride a city bus, subway or taxi until after I was out of college. Until these last couple of years in Morocco, public transportation remained a novelty – and a bit of a mystery – to me.

Many people have told us we might be happier if we had a car here. It's true that, as "nature lovers" more than "city people," T and I sometimes find it challenging to get to the places that would be most interesting to us because they are off the beaten path. Nevertheless, I am glad, for many reasons, that we have chosen not to try to get a car while here. Not only has it been cheaper, but it has been a wonderful learning experience (for me, especially) to figure out how to get around the country without a personal vehicle. (And in the times when we have really needed a car, we have been lucky enough to have wonderful friends who have lent us theirs.)



In fact, I think that one aspect of culture shock I might experience when I return to the United States this summer will be related to public transportation. As part of my schoolwork, I'll need to spend about five weeks in Bowling Green, Kentucky. I'll be there without a car, but it was only recently that I thought about how inconvenient, difficult, or even dangerous this might be.

There's a great extended stay hotel in Bowling Green that I want to stay at, and when I saw that it is only five miles from my university, I assumed that I would be able to borrow a bike from someone and ride the bike to and from the university every day. My classmates familiar with Bowling Green immediately shot me down. I had asked them if it was safe to bike between those two places, and they said "no!" It's not that I'm in danger of getting mugged or shot. It's that the road between the hotel and the university is too busy. It is not set up to accommodate either pedestrians or cyclists. I wouldn't be able to cross the street, they said, without getting hit by a car.

I was shocked, and it took me a few minutes to remember what Midwestern cities are like. Omaha, Nebraska, for example, is not even remotely pedestrian friendly, and especially in the more suburban parts of the city, one virtually never sees anyone walking around or riding a bike to get to or from work.

Besides becoming more comfortable with public transportation since coming to Morocco, I have also gotten more used to using my feet to get from one place to another, and it was confusing to think that I might be stranded at my hotel, potentially unable to walk away from it in any direction I please.

It's been good for me to reflect on these things because of the negativity I have been feeling toward Morocco lately. Since moving here, I have grown a great deal and have had a wealth of new and interesting experiences. I miss the United States, and I have grown to more deeply appreciate some aspects of my own culture, but I feel I am also more deeply starting to understand some of its problems.

I guess I'm still growing up.