I’m a son, was a son, and will always be their son. I was a bit reluctant to enter my host family three weeks ago. Being the only male on this trip, I didn’t know what to expect with joining a new family. I was a bit excited as well. You never really get the chance to enter someones house and be part of their lives. It was going to be a new experience and I was looking forward to it.
The first interaction was a bit subtle. Immersing into this new family wasn’t that difficult. My host mom had basic English knowledge and my host father had some too. Over the next three weeks, I learned that they used to be fluent in English. However, since they barely used it they ended up forgetting it. I found that quite interesting.
I also had two host brothers. One was in his last year of High School and the other, who was my age, was studying Architecture at the Université Internationale de Rabat. It’s a privately managed public university.
Together, we all shared amazing memories together. Looking back now, I miss them. We had a lot of laughs at the dinner table and I learned so much from this. We were all a family. They were MY family.
I developed such good relationship with them. It’s sad that I had to leave. They really wanted me to stay. We could’ve seen so much together. We had such little time though. They were going to take me places; to their farm just outside of Rabat and to visit their family.
Before I left, they told me I was always welcome back if I came again to Morocco. I told them the same if they visited Canada. Who knows? Maybe we’ll see each other again!