4 The HBCU Advocate Editorial My first trip to Africa was not what I expected


enter into that country, we found a discounted airline ticket to Morocco that would route us through Iceland and Paris, France before we would arrive in Morocco. We canceled our trip to Asia the


day we were supposed to leave and booked the tickets later that day to travel to Morocco the next day. I leſt all of the details of the trip to my daughter and was quite surprised to discover when we


arrived BY ANGELA JONES I was almost embarrassed to let


anyone know that I had never been to Africa since all humans originated from that continent. My more recent ancestors were from all over the globe including some who are native to the U.S. or Native American. When I planned a trip to Morocco, I thought I would be able to get in touch with my African roots. I guess I should first admit that


the trip was not really planned. It was a last minute decision when I had to cancel my plans to go to Bangkok, Tailand; Phuket, Tailand and Hong Kong. Tat trip was my daughter’s idea but we did not realize that it was the rainy season there and as everyone is aware from the news coverage of the soccer players trapped in the cave, that part of the world is not the most desirable place to be this time of year. Once I realized it would probably rain our entire time there, we quickly researched other options. I have always wanted to go to


Morocco since it is the place where Royal Moors thrived from the 8th through the 15th centuries. I knew there would be some amazing things to see but it is quite pricey to travel there. It is ideal to travel through Europe when airline prices are at their lowest. Tis was not that time; however, aſter ruling out travel to Brazil because one needs several days to secure a visa to


in Casablanca,


Morocco that we did not have hotels reservations. Imagine being on a continent for the first time, thousands of miles away from home and you have no idea where, when or if you will find a decent place to stay. Being the adventurous person


that I am, I was only concerned for a split second. My trip to Cuba, prepared me to expect the unexpected and roll with it. Once we arrived, we quickly booked the hotel that we had been eyeing online minutes before boarding our flight. As unsettling as it was to be in a foreign country and continent without a hotel at midnight, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw next or should I say what I did not see. I did not see one single black person the entire time I was in Casablanca. We were only there for a couple of days before we took the train to Marrakech, Morocco; however, we went to the mall, we went to the beach and we walked quite a bit while we were in Casablanca. I know that some parts of Northern Africa have become integrated with other people, mainly Arabs, but to not see any black people in Africa was quite disturbing. When I went to Marrakech, iIt


was almost the same experience but at least there were some black tourists there. I kept asking the “local” people where they were from and they kept insisting that they were from Morocco. Tese people of very little, if any, color tried to convince me that their parents and grandparents were from Morocco


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as well. Now here is where being a history buff is so helpful. Had that not been the case, I would have accepted what they were telling me. Te taxi drivers kept telling me


to go to the mountains to the Berber villages and they promised that I would see “real” Berbers there. Tat was not the case. We had planned to leave that night to take the train to Fez, Morocco but because of the promise of seeing “real” Berbers, we stayed in Marrakech another night and hiked into the Atlas mountains the next morning to see the Berber villages and some waterfalls. Aſter more than two hours of driving and then hiking into the mountains, I still did not see anyone with more than a negligible amount of melanin in their skin. We visited several villages including an interesting place where women pound argan nuts to access seeds to extract argan oil. Tese women claimed to be from Morocco as well; however, they were obviously European. Aſter asking so many times about their origin, one woman admitted that some of


them were from Syria. Evidently


there are only immigrants in the parts of Morocco that I visited. I was told before my trip by


someone, who is retired from the Navy, that Morocco was about 90 percent black when he spent time there in the 1960s. I also found some old postcards of Moroccan villages that were dated 1930 which had only black people on them. It is a mystery as to what happened to all of the black people who were there. I was told that a good number of native Moroccans have been pushed out of the cities and are living in the desert. Tis reminds me of the gentrification the we see in American cities. According to migrationpolicy. org, there were close to 4.8 million European immigrants living in the U.S. in 2016.


the people I met in Morocco were very


I must say that 99 percent of cordial. A couple


of people working at the airport seemed a


little short-tempered but that may be because of the nature of their jobs. One was a customs official and the other one was a worker at a cafe in the airport. He insisted we order something as soon as we sat down. If that had happened in the U.S. it would have been similar to the Starbucks incident. Since we were in a foreign country we just got up from the table. Tere are a lot of beautiful places


in Morocco. We went to the Hassan II Mosque, the second largest mosque on the continent and the 5th largest in the world. A total of about 105,000 people can worship together there and on the mosque grounds (25,000 inside). We also rode camels and shopped at an amazing market in Marrakech where you can buy just about anything and at a reasonable price. We enjoyed spa services including a pedicure that lasted 4 weeks, a massage and a hammam bath, which is


associated with the


Ottoman Empire. In all, it was a great trip. Te hotel


where we stayed in Casablanca, which housed the spa, was


directly across


the street from the beach. Te service there was amazing. We experienced what could have been a television show called “Who’s the Best Waiter.” We must have tipped too well on our first day for breakfast, so there were two servers who seemed to be battling it out for the title of the “Best Waiter.” You had to see it to believe it. Tey kept “one-upping” each other until we had so many varieties of bread, fruits, drinks and even silverware at our table. I could have made a lot of money if I had captured it on video. It was truly hilarious. It was not as if we were “balling” like that, the dollar is just so much stronger than Moroccan currency. Te biggest expense is getting there and we were lucky to find that less expensive flight through Iceland and Paris. Tanks Wow Airlines! And, thanks to Google Flights for making it so to compare prices.


Volume 2 Number 2


August/September 2018


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