Humanity in the Mountains of Morocco

January 26, 2008

Photo by author

It was my final day of a backpacking trip in Morocco and I was in the city of Agadir which sits on the west coast along the Atlantic Ocean. It is important to understand that Morocco is an Islamic nation ruled by a king; a country that gained its independence from France and Spain in 1956 after struggle with both countries. My flight out of Agadir did not leave until that night so I decided to hike to the Kasbah (the old Muslim town that sits outside the previously Christian city established by the colonial empires). It just so happens that the Kasbah of Agadir sits atop a mountain to the north of the city, about a seven or eight mile hike roundtrip. I was with my close friend and travel companion, Frank, and a New Zealander, Ian, whom we had met the day before.

The January day was quite warm as the temperature was in the mid-70’s and not a cloud in the sky. The three of us were making our way up the rocky slope of the mountain toward the ruins of the Kasbah above. As we were climbing we came along side a middle aged Muslim woman who was making the same ascent. She was dressed in traditional Islamic attire including the hijab. She was making the climb alone and it was clear by the heaviness of her breathing and the perspiration on her face that she was quite tired. The three of us stopped to offer her some water and made the attempt to talk with the woman. Frank is fluent in French and because of the history of the nation and its colonial ties to France, the language is well known there. However, because I know neither Arabic or French, I played the part of ignorant tourist and just smiled and had Frank translate. A short conversation followed and after the woman took another sip from our water source the three of us continued on our way up the mountain.

When we reached the top we found an absolutely amazing sight as we stood on the ruined ramparts of the historic city. We looked south over present day Agadir and its beautiful mosques and markets. Then to the west across Atlantic Ocean. As we were beginning our descent back down the mountain, the Moroccan woman we had spoken with earlier appeared. Greetings and smiles were exchanged once again, and Frank began communicating with her in French. Once again, I assumed my position of smiling and nodding. After a few minutes Frank’s demeanor appeared to change. The woman asked him a question to which he was quite shocked. I finally asked him what she asked.

“She wants to know if we need a place to stay and is offering us a place in her home.”

I too was shocked and had we been able to stay another night we certainly would have taken her offer. However, we were flying back to Ireland in a few hours and so we regretfully declined.

To the person who looks at this incident at face value, it may seem of little or no significance. Yet, the exchange with this woman, however simple, was monumental. As I said before, she was Muslim. Frank, Ian, and myself were clearly members of the Western world, a predominantly Christian culture. At a time when it seems the Muslim and Christian worlds are becoming increasingly polarized due to political events, media presentation, heads of state, and while certain members of the West are at war in Afghanistan, Iraq, and tensions run high with countries such as Iran, all Islamic nations, something amazing happened. Humanity prevailed in its most basic form; person to person, human to human. We shared our water with a person who suffered from thirst. She in turn offered us a place in her home as a way of saying thank you. It was not a question of West and East, or Christian and Muslim. It was the understanding that we are all human and that one’s cultural beliefs should not stand in the way of serving each other, and ultimately, the cause of humanity.

About the author : Nick Stirrett is an American currently doing postgraduate study at Queen’s University in Belfast, Northern Ireland.