Finding Cats in Rabat, Morocco

When in Morocco, one is completely surrounded by cats. This is neither an overstatement, nor an exaggeration of any sorts. One may even see a wandering tabby before they step outside of the airport - or atop their tents whilst camping in the Sahara.


The majority of them were stray, feral, but they were still comforting. They reminded me of home because they were the same kind of furry creatures who slept by my head on my pillow every night and cried at me for food in the mornings, and yet, they were different in their personas and their stronger, smaller, builds.


Yet, I would wonder through the medina - and when I knelt down to scratch a scraggly kitten behind the ears or coo over a pile of fur sleeping on the seat of an abandoned motorcycle, they would purr and squeeze shut their clever eyes just like any other cat. 


Rabat was different from Idaho in so many ways - countless ways, it seemed. Everyday after school, it seemed I would encounter something new and strange. There were these moments, like when I sat out, sipping espresso on the balcony of a cafe in Agdal, and I have an encounter with someone similar to me and my age. We have a conversation and at some point we've begun discussing more philosophical topics - including the likeness between Morocco and the United States. He tells me, "America is lost," and it's like a punch in the gut a gasp of fresh air because I feel his words on every level. 


In Morocco, I found a lot of things. I found the cats; I found words and people whom I never expected to meet but was so lucky to find. 


Chloe Glass is the Managing Editor of GirlSense and NonSense Magazine. Follow her @chloek.athleen