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A Letter from Morocco:
A year of traveling to 12 countries with some of the most extraordinary excursions makes narrowing down a favorite quite hard. But without hesitation, (coming from a very indecisive human), I have to say Morocco stole my heart and awakened my senses in ways I was not anticipating.
By the time I reached Morocco, it was early October and I had come off a run of back to back trips. Slowly, I had grown accustom to generic tourist traps, landmarks covered with an increasing number of wide eyed visitors, locals who all knew English and sold a curated version of what their culture encompassed. And there is nothing wrong with this type of traveling… but what enticed me about traveling in the first place was experiencing the authenticity of a world so different from the one in which I was raised in. Learning the slang of locals. Observing the way they interacted, their traditions and ways of life that were most important to them. To be a fly on the wall, organically watching a culture I had only ever read about unravel into existence. And Morocco.. Morocco invited me to do this so effortlessly.
Morocco on Film captured by Brook Sill 35mm Cannon AE-1
Marrakesh
As our jet legged eyes began to open and we inhaled a breath of Moroccan air, my love for intricate Arabian architecture was satisfied like never before. I had dreamt of these walls, arches & door ways for years and now in the most surreal moment I found myself calling it a reality.
We spent our first night in a Riad called Kasbah that was nestled in the tight streets of the Medina. [A Riad is a type of traditional Moroccan house or palace with an interior garden or courtyard]. This one was stunning. Our adventure awaited just beyond the threshold of our Riad. As the door opened, it felt like I was transporting into another world, as if I were stepping from the wardrobe into the winter snow in the Chronicles of Narnia. Calm to chaos. As if God placed the needle on the record player and watched as the town began to dance. Donkey’s pulling goods to be traded, little kids chasing one another and elders sitting on the streets whose faces alone told a thousand tales.. flies circling hanging meat carcases, and new smells inhaled with every step.. each of my senses fought for attention in these foreign streets and my unwavering smile proved me guilty of a happy heart.
We explored the streets of the Medina and caught word of a leather Artisans Festival that occurs once a year proceeding a few streets away. Following a complete stranger we dodged speeding bikes, animals & locals to a hidden trench where we were passed onto the mountain leathers man. He walked us through the steps in which leather was made. First the animal is skinned, then placed in lime. Next it is transferred to pigeon poop.. yes, you read that right, I will never look at leather the same. Then transferred to soak in wheat. Learning about this process was fascinating but the experience came with a smell I’m not sure I will ever be able to erase.
Morocco on Film captured by Brook Sill 35mm Cannon AE-1
The Drive
Morocco on Film captured by Brook Sill 35mm Cannon AE-1
Next we loaded the car and began our voyage to the Sahara Desert. During this eight hour road trip, I sat shotgun to an Arab named Isahia. The language barrier was as big as they come.. but then something magical began to happen …[My most fond memory of the trip thus far]. As he raised the sound of music in an old beat down car, the rhythm moved through our veins causing us to dance as we shared one of the purest moments of joy. Verbal language lost its primary position as we began to communicate through our souls. An Arab in Morocco and an American from a small town in South Carolina united through a musician who dared to dream. It’s these small moments that I live for and Morocco was allowing me to collect many.
The Sahara Desert
Morocco on Film captured by Brook Sill 35mm Cannon AE-1
The worlds largest hot desert. October seemed to be a strategic time to explore, but even then the days contained temperatures in the 90s while the nights reached below freezing. Our next three days would be spent sleeping under the stars and trekking for miles through endless sand, away from all civilization. To summarize this three day experience is quite difficult, but I will do my best. [Will go into more depth in a blog to come:) ] Our guides Mohammed, Omar and Lakshan, each young men born and raised in the desert, led us down a path that seemed invisible to my foreign eye. As we passed a tree, Lakshan casually shares that this is the very place in which he was born. We encountered one of the oldest Nomads left in the world, heard stories of survival and nomadic war, drank water from a hidden oasis and marveled at a sky of stars that made me question if we were still on the same planet.
[I lost the bottom of my film camera in the desert and was nervous that the light leak would ruin the film. Like a kid on their way to the candy store, I had spent months saving these roles and anxiously awaited their development. I was over the moon and even more in love with the unique patterns the sun kissed on these memories.]
Morocco on Film 35mm Cannon AE-1
In an increasingly noisy world, the desert provided a silence that healed the soul in ways I had never experienced. No distractions. Just you and your thoughts. (And the occasional donkey that snuck in to steal treats). My heart longed for more time in this beautiful, raw and real country, but overflowed with gratitude for the time it was given. Morocco, I hope this is just the beginning of our love story.
Your American lover,
Brook Sill