Culture Shock Therapy in Morocco

Morocco is like no place I've ever been. There are breathtaking landscapes, deep traditions, serene deserts, and vibrant cities. From the chaotic streets of Marrakech to the peaceful beauty of the desert, our trip was filled with moments of awe, cultural curiosity, and, at times, bouts of tourist skepticism and reality checks that both come with being a traveler. I quickly decided that trying to assimilate beyond learning a few words in Arabic to be polite was not really the way to go this trip, rather, be the tourists we actually are and just soak in what's all around me. Sure, I might be giving up a little authenticity when taken to pre-determined restaurants or factories that may or may not benefit the driver or his friends. But conversely, to avoid getting sick, knowing that these places are catering to tourists using bottled water, for example, is a worthwhile tradeoff sometimes. And, if buying the argon oil from a stop chosen by our driver helps support the livelihood of people working to support their families, I was totally cool with it.

Sometimes, the only thing better than traveling is traveling with friends. Our journey started to moment we landed in Marrakech with our British friends we met in Lisbon. We are quite fond of this family, and Sebastian has a nice friendship with the two girls. So, once we got through about nine border and customs checks at the airport, we met our driver, Moustapha. Our plan was to head straight to the desert for the first few days and then finish our trip in the city of Marrakech. Moustapha let us know that it was the first day of Ramadan and that he (alongside the entire country) would be fasting every day for a month, only allowed to eat after the sunset call to prayer. This would come up many times throughout our time together and was a fascinating cultural experience to witness firsthand. It was beyond impressive that fasting all day, including water, did not remove the smile from his face or the energy from his touring.

One of the first things I noticed as we set out for the desert was the presence of checkpoints, which I learned to be police seatbelt checks— everywhere! Yet, there didn’t seem to be any noticeable consistency for whom they pulled over. Taxis zipped by unchecked, and packed vans carrying at least 10 people over capacity went by without a second glance. Moustapha explained that they target tourist drivers and make quite a bit of money with just that. Driving itself seemed quite a spectacle (I was glad he was driving and not us). It was chaotic, yet there was an unspoken rhythm to it. I watched more hand signals than I’ve ever seen, none involving the infamous middle finger, and even hazards were used as a form of acknowledgment. It was like Morocco had its own driving language!

To get to the sandy dunes of the Sahara, it was about 10 hours each way along an old caravan route. The kids did great and we adults never seemed to run out of things to talk about or songs to sing along to. On the way there, we stopped multiple times, some for the expected tourist trap of Henna tattoos and the “most authentic” Argon oil. Some were just stops for landscapes and beautiful vistas of the Atlas Mountains. And one very special stop at a UNESCO Heritage Site, Aït Benhaddou, and a nearby town nicknamed “Hollywood of Morocco”. The building dates back to the 11th century (though most of the current standing buildings are more like 17th century), but even more interesting, it’s the site of many Hollywood film sets! The oldest I recognized was Lawrence of Arabia (1962), and on the newer side, Game of Thrones and Gladiator. And, coming soon in 2026 and being filmed at present with Matt Damon lurking somewhere near the site is The Odyssey!

We stopped in a town a few hours short of the desert for the night and although I know it occurred throughout the day, this was the first time I really heard and paid attention to the call to prayer. It was loud, eerie, commanding of attention, and a little surprisingly uncomfortable to listen to. All throughout the trip, I dissected the why behind my discomfort, and after a week of hearing it many times per day, I came up with multiple contributing factors. It felt good to think beyond they feeling, to challenge and expand my comfort zone; personal growth, after all, is what I believe to be one of the greatest gifts of traveling.

Arrival in the desert was exactly as I pictured it would be: beautiful. We were lucky with the weather and arrived just in time for our sunset camel ride up the sandy dunes of the Sahara. Riding a camel felt somewhere between “this is amazing” and “I feel badly for this animal”. I asked our camel guide if the camels were treated well, and he assured me they were—"they even get sweets as treats”. It was one of those moments where you tell yourself to believe the answer and that it’s okay to experience something once in a lifetime (and then try to sleep guilt-free). YOLO.

Walking up the sand dunes was like climbing in quicksand, but the view was well worth the workout. We took turns sandboarding down (on what we know as a snowboard), laughed at our clumsy landings, marveling at the silky sand making its way into every pocket, sock, shoe, and all places in between, and then trekked back up only to do it again. We stayed long enough for a beautiful sunset and then our camel chariots delivered us to our glamping site for the night. True to pretty much every Stamm camping experience we’ve had, almost as soon as we stepped foot into our tent, the thunderstorm began. But the gift of a glampsite is that inside, it was warm and dry and even had a flushable toilet—I was finally a happy camper!

That night, after a traditional Moroccan dinner, a Moroccan music jam session broke out (should have been around the fire outside but alas, the rain did not stop). With great music and some delicious mint tea, the evening wound down with only a few of us remaining. Seb joined Moustapha in playing/singing music under the stars, and I relished in this moment of connection.

On the way back from the desert to Marrakech, we spent about ten hours weaving down winding roads through fog and rain, taking in the ever-changing landscapes. We stopped for lunch and a few more times for pit stops, but this was more of a straight-shot trek back with many kilometers to cover in one day. Needless to say, we were all ready to get out of the van by the time we arrived!

We finally pulled into Marrakech in the early evening and as is the system with riads, someone from our riad came to meet us where Moustapha pulled over and walked us to our accommodation. A riad is a traditional Moroccan house, specifically known for its enclosed garden and courtyard. Many even have pools in the middle of the courtyard, though I don’t think they are meant for swimming, rather for the aesthetics. They used to be homes for the wealthy but nowadays most have been converted to guest houses for visitors. They are located within the old city “Medina” walls, and most have a rooftop with views of the city, which ours did. 

Marrakech was a bit of a shock to the system coming from the quiet desert. Many streets were dilapidated and litter-strewn, with areas where the smell overtook all other senses. Some were more modern and cleaned up, lined with vendors selling “Airpods” or “Nikes”, etc. all for the best price in town. Seb hadn’t really been exposed to the culture of knockoffs or haggling, but he is now! Upon entering the main square for the first time, we were met with hordes of mopeds flying by (without regard for street versus sidewalk), food stalls sizzling up local foods, snake charmers coaxing cobras, and kids darting through the streets on foot or on bikes, all while kicking soccer balls. Overwhelming is an understatement, but I knew I needed to decide quickly. I could either continue to feel overwhelmed and somewhat put off at the craziness of it all (especially the mopeds), or I could lean in and immerse myself in the culture and all that it offered for the next few days. I chose to lean in. We found a pretty cool place to grab some food in the middle of the main square and then decided to get some sleep for the few days of city touring ahead.

After a delicious breakfast on the rooftop of our riad, we roughly planned a walk through the souk, a stop at a Sultan’s Palace, and a visit to an old Jewish synagogue in the Jewish Quarter. Navigating was not easy, and it was beyond comical getting directions or taking information from people who so clearly had their own agenda for what we should do. The first person said the synagogue was closed and that we needed to go visit the spice shop instead. He said the spice shop was only open one day, today, due to Ramadan and that we didn’t want to miss it. Another person said the way to get to the synagogue, which, according to him, was actually open, was to go through his carpet shop. People offered “directions” without us even asking (clearly, our phones open with Google maps gave us away)! We decided to ignore them all and found out that not only was the synagogue open, but that it also didn’t require a walk through the spice shop or carpet shop to get there. And the spice shop is also open daily. This is a great example of the constant negotiation between seeking the authenticity of a culture and the realities of being a tourist.

The Jewish Quarter was badly damaged by the recent earthquake in 2023. For that reason, and the limitations of Ramadan, there weren’t many shops or restaurants open in that area. Which was a big shame because I had a cold throughout the entire trip and all I wanted was to try and find some good Matzo ball soup! But the synagogue, built by Jews expelled from Spain in 1492, was a very cool reminder of history and resilience. It was set up similarly to a riad with a courtyard in the middle and rooms surrounding. Some rooms were adorned with photographs of the Jewish community dating back to the beginning. Some had preserved Torah scrolls and violins on display. I really enjoyed walking through each room, wondering how it felt to be one of the people in the photographs, wondering what song was played on the violin, wondering how many times the Torah was carried through a congregation. On the way out, I noticed a Muslim security guard getting his mat ready for the afternoon call to prayer. After doing a double and triple take, I could only think that this was one of the most ironic displays of coexisting cultures that I’ve ever seen.

Next stop, El Badi Palace. This palace had all the things, mosaics, gardens, super old things, etc., originally set up for an old sultan’s personal use, then turned royal residence, then turned cultural tourist attraction. It was pretty, and I could appreciate how the space evolved over so many centuries. But, if I’m being honest, that might be as much of a profound takeaway as I got.

As the day progressed, it started to become apparent that Sebastian was not feeling well. And within a few hours, he went down with a stomach bug. We tried to be so careful with food choices and brushing our teeth with bottled water, but we later realized that he and one of the girls, who went down within hours of Seb in the same way, both had a strawberry milkshake that most likely contained poorly washed or contaminated berries. Total bummer. But sometimes there is grit required when you travel, and this is why. It happened in Tbilisi, in Shanghai, and it happened upon our return from Cuba. It just happens, so we deal with it and take a pause, this time watching episodes of Grey’s Anatomy on the iPad until it passed.

Seb was still not doing great, but he didn't want to miss a day, so we set out for a lower-key day. We walked around the main square again, this time really paying attention and stopping to see the goings on within the square. One of those things, to my dismay and ultimate fear, was the array of snake charmers. Like the camels, leaning into the culture mandated that we explore this iconic spectacle. So, while I hid behind Chad with barely one eye open, a VERY large cobra was being “charmed” for us, and Seb was petting a smaller member of Slytherin. Done, and definitely not doing that again. We then walked around some beautiful gardens surrounding a mosque and had some lunch. We had an adult dinner that night and let Seb continue to recover in the riad.

Other than Sebastian getting sick, I haven’t talked much about the food. Which in some cases was really good and in others, just ok. While on the way to the desert and back, we were mostly on a tourist track and the food stops reflected it. Every menu looked the same with choices of chicken tagine, couscous, skewers, or chicken pastilla (when made correctly and to order, is quite delicious). So, I did grow tired of the same rotation of food pretty quickly in those few days. But when we got to Marrakech, we were able to vary the choices a bit more and had some pretty great meals. The mint tea was spectacular, everywhere we went.

The next day, we had tickets to the YSL (Yves Saint Laurent) museum and gardens. The gardens were exquisite, well-manicured and maintained with tons of bamboo, flowers, water features, and more. I’m not big into fashion, so the YSL museum part was a bit lost on me, with dresses galore. But I can appreciate what an icon he was in the fashion world, even if it doesn’t align with my idea of shopping, which is either not shopping at all or thrifting. Our dinner on the final night was really something special. We went to a place called Dar Essalam, which was the epitome of so many things Moroccan entertainment and culture has to offer. Throughout dinner, performers rotated from belly dancers, traditional Moroccan music, dancers with candles balanced on top of their heads, and so much more! Many came around to the tables to engage the guests and at some point, we all got up to either join in the dance or clap along with the music. The kids even joined something that resembled a conga line! It was a lot of fun and absolutely worth seeing if you make it to Marrakech.

Our final day of touring was jam-packed before heading to the airport. We started at Ben Youssef Medersa, once the largest Islamic school in North Africa, now a UNESCO Heritage site and a pretty spectacular display of architecture and mosaics. Because it’s a popular tourist stop it was really crowded so we didn’t stay too long. But I could see why it was so well-visited and appreciated its intricate beauty and vibrant colors. Next stop, Photography Museum. As you would imagine from the name, this was a museum of photographs, autochromes (my favorite), and glass plates, all depicting some part of Moroccan history. The tannery was next and probably my least favorite stop. Here, we were meant to see how and where leather is made. But this stop proved not only to be a huge tourist trap, but it stunk to high heaven. The “free” tour required literally shoving mint leaves up your nose in order to withstand the smell. We barely walked in and walked right back out. I wasn’t even interested in buying anything leather, so we high-tailed it out of that area as quickly as possible and got to the souk just in time for the rain. I was determined to buy a tea set, and we finally found one. Sebastian got a lot of exposure to the haggling culture, and on this last day, he tried his hand at haggling and got himself a camel memento with his allowance at the price he wanted. So proud! We had a final Moroccan lunch at the culinary museum (more of a restaurant than a museum) and then started to make our way to the airport.

So, we came, we saw, we smelled, we haggled, and yes, at one point, we (Seb) puked. Travel is never just one thing. It’s exhilarating, overwhelming, eye-opening, exhausting, challenging, and transformative all at once. Morocco gave me all of that and more. We had a great time with our friends who made the sunset happy hours more fun, meals more wrought with laughter and stories, and overall experiences more special. 

As we left Morocco, the call to prayer echoed once more—a reminder to me of how much I had seen, learned, and experienced in just a short time. Ila al-liqaa, Morocco!

Seb Said:

Don’t drink the strawberry milkshakes! For anyone going to Marrakech soon, that is my advice. Also, definitely drink as much mint tea as you can (make sure it has sugar).

Overall, Morroco was an amazing and very unique country. It was also amazing because it was my first ever African country. To be honest, since it was in Africa, I was expecting Congo and the Safari, but to my surprise, it was like a mix between Israel and Georgia. It also has the feel of a heavily guarded middle-eastern country with the hour long waits for the vigorous customs checkpoints, the random police seatbelt checks every twenty minutes, and yes, the police on horses and donkeys.

The first few days we were in Morroco, we had a tour guide van us and our friends out to the Sahara desert. Since the desert is in the middle of nowhere and we landed in the middle of Marrakech, it was a 7-hour car ride the first day. A stop for the night halfway, then another 5 hours the next day. On the way back to Marrakech, we didn't have the luxury of stopping somewhere overnight. It was a 10-hour straight shot, but with the rain and traffic, it turned out to be longer. One of our stops somewhere along the way was super cool because it was stopping at Kasbah, a very traditional yet very touristed town in the middle of the desert. The reason it is so touristed is because so many famous movies were filmed there. In fact, while we were there, they were filming Odyssey, a movie starring Tom Holland AND Zendaya. Of course, the whole time we were there, I was looking for them.

The desert. The desert was so cool. It was kind of like Tatooine in Star Wars. It felt literally out of this world. Once we got there, we did a sunset camel ride (one of the coolest things I have ever done) and then hiked up a dune to watch it. The people who were guiding the camels brought a snowboard that they called a “sandboard” and they were letting people go down and slide down a super steep hill. Of course, I did it, and it was one of the coolest things I did the entire trip. Even the sand that got everywhere was totally worth it.

That night, we stayed in a really nice “tent” that was more a ugly tarp on the outside and a luxury hotel room on the inside. The next day, we took a 10-hour car ride back to Marrakech (so boring, especially when you don’t have wifi), but once we got to Marrakech and got checked into our Riad, the worker came down with a tray of fresh Morrocan mint tea. That night, our friends didn't join us, so we went to a low-key place for dinner and took a break from tagine and couscous. I got bolognese. When we woke up, we went to some old palace that was quite boring, to be honest, but then we went to a pita restaurant. I REPEAT, DO NOT GET THE STRAWBERRY MILKSHAKE UNLESS YOU WANT TO END UP VOMITING FOR 2 DAYS. That's what happened to me. I mean, it was delicious at the time, but I don’t think my stomach agreed a few hours later. The only good thing about that night and the next where I missed dinner again was I discovered a very funny Irish show called Derry girls. The second night I was sick, I told my parents to go out to dinner, and I would just be watching TV. Later in the night, mom, being a mom, came running back to the riad during dinner when I made the slightest mention of neck pain, her mind automatically thinking I have some kind of deadly meningitis. Thanks to Aunt Jen, we found a doctor in Marrakech who assured us I did not have meningitis and my neck was just strained from dehydration and being hunched over vomiting. This information definitely helped my mom sleep better.

Since the next day I was feeling a bit better, and it was such a beautiful day outside, we decided to try to get outside for a bit and maybe go to the Mosque Gardens or Jemaa El Fnaa: the main square. Since one of the kids we were traveling with also got sick and the other was bored out of her mind staying in the room, we picked her up and walked around. We started at Jemma El Fnaa, where we all felt bad for the monkeys that were tied up to short metal leashes in the hot sun just to do tricks so the owner could get money. We also tortured mom and made her watch the snake charmers about five feet away. Just for reference, about four or five years ago, we were walking in Colorado on a trail, and when she saw a snake, she screamed so loud and ran and left me there. Great parenting, huh? Well, kudos to you, Mom, you didn’t cause a scene and run, even though you were standing behind Dad, closing your eyes the whole time. Apparently, in Morroco, it's good luck to put a snake on your forehead, so the guy holding him put it against my forehead and said, “You have good luck now”. I didn’t really know how to respond to that, so I just said thank you and politely and slowly backed away.

Also, that day, in the garden of the mosque, we heard the call to prayer. The call to prayer, especially during Ramadan, is very interesting. If I’m being completely honest, it's almost a bit eerie and creepy. It's this big muffled speaker with a guy “singing a prayer.” It kind of sounds like a tornado alarm. We wandered around the souk for a while (the big market) and turned down about three dozen vendors trying to get us to buy spices, clothes, a tea set, leather, food, and toy camel, and we turned down just about every single person.

In my opinion, there are two things in Marrakech that you either love and embrace or get overwhelmed and hate. I tried to embrace them. The first thing is the complete and utter chaos of the mopeds, donkeys, people, and horses alike. (Cars can’t fit in the medina). It reminded me a bit of Amsterdam, where it is a fact that there are more bikes than there are people, and you have to peek out at every corner. In Amsterdam, I thought that was so cool, and I tried to think the same here, except with my stomach still queasy; it was not pleasant the smell of exhaust everywhere. The second thing is the hustlers. Some people think it is annoying and obnoxious for people to come up to you and shove menus in your face or tell you to come into their store, and in most cases, I do, too. However, in Morocco, it is not seen as rude or obnoxious because it's their way of making a living. Since there are so many different stores that sell almost the exact same thing, they have to try to force you into their store and convince you that their store is special. Plus, since I lost my really expensive AirPods, I bargained to get another pair that looked identical for only 11 euros. All in all, Morocco was a really cool trip, not only from the desert but also the first country any of us have been to in Africa. Oh, and don’t make the same mistake I did and say that the instrument, the maraca, is from Morroco, it's not, it's from…

Well, actually, I have no idea where it's from.