While moving back into Wellesley for the fall semester, I was looking through my notebooks and realized that in the rush of the end of last semester, I forgot to type up and post my last few entries! This was from April 28, 2025. 

The Botanical gardens are quiet. As per usual, many couples sit on the benches all around, and new flowers are blooming. This week I notice the trees, with their grey bark and big, waxy leaves. I’m not sure what they are, but they are beautiful, with massive trunks made of many sections and long roots hanging down from their branches. It is green and vibrant, and smells so strongly of pollen. I am grateful not to be allergic to pollen, otherwise I doubt I could sit here for long. 

Last weekend I took a train to Marrakesh, followed by a bus to Essouria, a city on the beach. The train to Marrakesh was beautiful, traveling through the desert countryside on the way to the big city. Marrakech seems to emerge out of nothing, just arid hills and farm country until suddenly there is the city. It was bustling and loud, of course, but we only passed through, before heading out to Essouria. 

When we arrived in Essouria, a beach city to the south, the wind was up off the ocean, and hundreds of parasailers were out on the beach. I had never seen so many in one place, and it was incredible to watch the colors and motion of the sails dipping and jumping over the waves. Essouira is where people from Marrakesh go to cool off when it gets too hot inland, and we played soccer with the kids of the owner of a Riyad in the city. Marrakesh is close to the mountains, but the beach is where it truly cools off. It is not yet May and Marrakesh was brutally hot, I cannot imagine what it is like in the summer.

There is a big Mulberry tree outside the botanical garden, and it stained the ground beneath it purple this week. Before that, I had not noticed it was a mulberry, walking underneath it as often as I did, but out of nowhere, it exploded with fruit. There was a taxi parked underneath the tree, it looked more purple than blue today.

Rabat is filled with murals. On my walk I pass two, one of a woman holding a child and one of faces with large golden circles over them. Every time I take a taxi to the medina, I pass many more, too many to remember. Because the area is so arid and hot, most buildings are plain grey or white, which makes the colors of the murals only more vibrant. I saw a new mural being put up the other day, near the king’s palace. I walked past it on the way to Chelleah, the stork filled ruins overlooking the Bouregreg. I’ll have to return to see what it becomes. I’m not sure how long it takes for a mural to be painted, but I have about three more weeks here, and I hope it will be done when I go.