Hello Marrakesh!

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Having been swept away by Easyjet;, past the Spanish and Portugese border and onto African soil. I was quickly ushered past border control and went on to exchange my British pounds for Moroccan Dirhams. Another 5 volunteers and myself was greeted by the toothless smiley driver that was to drive us to the volunteer base in the Medina - the old town. Outside the cool and modern airport, I was instantly under sensory assault- the colours, smells, language, bike hoots, donkeys, and men shouting "miss, miss" waving their arms around.

We arrived at the old Medina and two men attempted to carry our luggage for 10Dh - less than one pound. However, our driver shouted at them and they left. We hauled our belongings into a traditional riad and and began to unpack. The other volunteers and I were greeted by the volunteer coordinator and we were left to our own devices. Two current volunteers kindly came over from the other riad and showed us the local supermarket. On the journey towards the supermarket. poverty was evident - that was not to say people were miserable - through the arches, fragrance of the markets and the army fleet at the taxi ranks, street vendors and taxi drivers attempted to gain your attention and haggle for your bussiness. This was all new to me 'miss miss, i give you good price' 'where you going, i take you there for cheap', promises of 'cheapest prices in Marrakesh' was thrown at me right, left and centre. I was in awe of these people who shown great eagerness for my money.

However, my niavity was soon dispelled as soon as I declined these hospitable men - I was called a timewaster, stupid and various colourful things in Arabic. I was assured that I was not the first to experience this. After the supermarket trip to buy the basics, we were taken on a tour to visit the Saardian tombs and the old palace. I was mesmerised by the detail to colour and grandeur of the architect. The preservation work was well done and I would reccomend a visit to both locations.

Later on in the evening, we joined the 'street kids' volunteering project. The project was located outside the main centre of Marrakesh - a community centre set up for young children. We were greeted by almost one hundred children when we arrived, instantly they were whispering and giggling - a few older (and braver) children asked us for our names. This took me back to year 7 French lessons at school "Ca va?, tres chaud, tu s´appelle?" The children sang songs in both French and Arabic - a beautiful language. I was taken aback by the warmth and laughter of the children. Although we cannot always communicate efficiently, we were able to all enjoy those few hours in the evening playing games and singing.

I had a really nice first day.

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