I had a picture in my head of what Morocco was going to look like before I got here, and day one made it clear quite quickly that I wasn’t even close. The first thing that struck me was how dense everything is. I thought of open country, a slower pace, and maybe some run-down buildings dotted across dry sandy land. What I walked into was a city that felt alive in all directions: streets jam-packed, people everywhere, buildings that quite literally stopped me in my tracks. Much of the architecture here is stunning in a way I wasn’t prepared for. I also thought there would be way more dessert. It’s green, there is grass, and it’s a lot lusher than I thought it was going to be. That alone kind of reset everything I thought I knew going in. The highlight of the day was a tour of the mosque. Two things come to mind. Almost everything used to build it was sourced from somewhere in Morocco, which tells you a lot about the pride that went into it. And the King of Morocco actually prays there and has his own private entrance. It’s pretty humbling to know the head of an entire country goes to the same place to pray as everyone else. After the tour, we stopped at the mall, and that came with its own surprises. Many places only accepted cash, which surprised me, coming from America, where you can tap your card pretty much anywhere. We also finished our meal, and a woman who worked for the mall came over to clean up the table. She wasn’t our server; she didn’t take our order or bring the food. Her whole role was just clearing up after us. It was a small thing, but it stuck with me as something you just wouldn’t see back home. After the mall, I took a walk through the neighborhood my grandfather grew up in. I never found his house, which was a little disappointing, but it was nice just to be in those streets. Visiting the temple he used to attend and walking the same paths he may have traversed made the entire trip feel personal in a way I had not anticipated on the first day.