In 3rd grade, I did my first report. It was on elephants, both kinds, African and Indian. My aunt had just gotten back from her honeymoon--Tanzanian safari included--so I was very proud to have real photographs to include. I dreamed of having African photos of my own someday. Unfortunately, it wasn't until the last World Cup (in South Africa) that I was reminded again about the continent which had piqued my interest so early on. The main reason, I believe, is because I didn't grow up knowing nearly anything about it. My New York state education had only provided me with the American story (mostly US-focused) and the World's (European, with a pinch of Asian mention) story. In other words, Africa was just, Africa.
Sad, isn't it? And ridiculous. Honestly, I'd love to visit Tanzania, and South Africa, and Egypt, too; all of which don't nearly have as much in common as we (generalizing, I know) tend to assume. So when Anna and Leslie were in Paris seeking a weekend getaway destination, I was thrilled to stumble upon on the possibility of Marrakech. The price was right, the weather was warmer, we set out for Morocco two Fridays ago.