Living in Morocco: Moving and First Impressions
If you happen to keep up with me on social media, are friends with me in any capacity, or have spoken with me for more than about five minutes, you likely know that I had the privilege of living and working in Casablanca, Morocco from 2018-2020. I worked as the secondary music teacher at an American school just outside of the city. I spent two years meeting incredible people, traveling as much as possible, and eating some of the best food I’ve ever had. There were of course the obvious road bumps that come with starting your first full time job, moving far away from home, and becoming fully independent after college. However, these were also coupled with the unique challenges of doing all of that while in a foreign country where I did not speak any of the languages (yes, Morocco is a multilingual country, but more on that later). My journey to Casablanca went like this:
It was July 2018 and I had just graduated from college with my music teaching degree. I was still living in Miami, teaching at a summer music camp, and hoping to land a job at an international school. Unfortunately, at that time in the summer, the vast majority of overseas roles for the new year were already filled. I made peace with the reality that I would most likely end up working in Miami. Sometime in the middle of the month, I noticed an opening on an international job board for a secondary school music teacher position at American Academy Casablanca in Casablanca, Morocco. My hopes were not high, mostly because of the tumultuous job search I had been having up to that point. But why not try, right?
Much to my excitement, I received an email within 24 hours asking to interview via Skype for this position (before the Zoom days). I literally showed up to the camp I was teaching at with my laptop in tow and wearing an interview outfit that was much too hot for Miami summers. My boss at the camp also happened to be my cooperating teacher during my student internship the semester prior, and she gave me the time and a free room to conduct my interview in peace. After two interviews in a 36-hour span, I had an official 2-year offer to be the secondary music teacher at American Academy Casablanca, and I accepted immediately. There was just one catch: I was due for the first day of teacher orientation in less than three weeks.
The ball started rolling pretty quickly. I had to wrap up in Miami, move my life back to CT, and fly to my new home in Morocco. Oh, and call my parents… who I didn’t even tell I had interviewed for the job, much less accepted the position. Those were an interesting couple of conversations… *laughs nervously* Luckily that was the last week of July, and the end of music camp. I packed all of my possessions into the trunk of my 2000 Buick LeSabre and made the 1500 mile drive north.
When I arrived home there was a LOT for me to do. Besides packing, I had what felt like a million errands to do for my work visa, onboarding papers, and teacher certificate. It was probably only like five things that I had to get done, but my timeline —now two weeks before moving—was NOT conducive to the American bureaucracy, and each step had to be completed properly in order to move forward with this job. Obviously everything worked out, but I was very stressed at the time!
I spent my last few days in Connecticut with a pit in my stomach. I was excited but nervous, ready but unsure, and thrilled yet anxious. All I wanted for years was to land an international teaching job after college, but now that it was finally here I was terrified. What if I don’t like it? What if I don’t make any friends? What if I’m terrible at my job? What if I miss home too much? Saying goodbye to my family when going to college was one thing, but moving to a new country, and one that felt so different was very hard. Through the hugs and tears of goodbyes, I got on a plane with a one-way ticket to Casablanca, Morocco.
View of Casablanca from the sky.
Upon landing, my nerves had picked back up. This time though, they were 100% about making sure I got all of my things and made it to wherever I was supposed to be. I easily collected my luggage and made it outside to look for the driver that my boss told me would be awaiting my arrival. As I was waiting, I heard much of what was being spoken around me. There were people speaking French, English, Spanish, Arabic, and the local language Darija. Finally, the driver and I found each other and I made it into Casablanca for the first time.
We didn’t go too far into the city, because my school-provided apartment wasn’t ready yet, so I was being put up in a hotel with 10 or so other incoming teachers. The group of us stayed in this hotel for the next week, being bused to and from school every day for various introductory and orientation activities. In the evenings we would sit in the hotel restaurant for hours and hours, just talking and getting to know each other. Those in this group included a South African woman about my parents’ age, a married couple from the Philippines, a married Australian/American couple, and an American girl who had just graduated from UVA. The seven of us bonded very quickly, and we became quite an unlikely friend group that year. With about a week left before the students arrived for their first day, we were finally moved into the city to our apartments. I ended up moving into an apartment on a quiet street a few blocks east of the soccer stadium with the American girl from UVA, Renee.
My apartment building for two years. We lived on the top floor with a huge balcony.
The next few weeks and months of exploring the city, getting used to the culture, and trying the food were a whirlwind to say the least. There was so much to take in, and even more to learn about how to live in Morocco as a foreigner. Between my first job, a different environment, and needing to speak a new language around the city, I was feeling very challenged, both mentally and emotionally. One of my first thoughts upon arriving was “wow, I live here now,” and not in a happy way. It was at least three months before I actively enjoyed living in Casablanca. In the years since, people have asked me, “how did you like it?” And my response is always that I learned to like it. I had to actively teach myself how to enjoy an experience and a culture that was in many ways so different from what I was used to.
My chapter living in Casablanca is one of my favorites, and I truly wouldn’t change anything about my experience. As I continue this blog series, I’m hoping to accurately portray the ups and downs of living in Morocco as a single American woman. While there are many more high points, some of my favorite stories came out of the low points. If you have read this far, thank you so much for your support, and stay tuned for more stories of the American girl who made her way to Morocco.
