Essay and photocollage by Tristan Brown.
There is a passage in Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar, I believe, which has become popular online in recent years that is lovingly referred to as “the fig tree analogy.” It’s an analogy of a young woman being so indecisive about the choices she has available to her that she refuses to choose and shrivels up as a result. When we saw the fig tree today, some of us stopped to take pictures of it with that analogy in mind. This year‘s program is unique in that the cohort is largely composed of women-identifying people. To some degree, that may inform how we look at the objects we see on the trip. For example, I don’t know if a male majority group would’ve gawked and fawned and taken photos of a fig tree, such as we had. There’s something to be said about the power of a group that can squeal every time they see a kitten, and that can cry or comfort each other in equal measure after seeing distinct reminders of memory. The Moroccan leg of our trip has led us to religious sites of importance to the Muslim faith, the Judaic faith, and the Christian faith. Seeing each of the main Abrahamic religions in direct juxtaposition and directly in harmony with one another provides a deeper understanding not only how the culture of the region functions, but how we as people function. It was powerful to stand near the beaches of Operation Torch. It has been breathtaking to see the opulence of beautiful mosques. Even the bus rides have given me a deeper understanding of the country and memory. The ruins of Volubilis provided a rich history, which I never had the chance to explore before. Moroccan culture is deeply fascinating, and I only have realized in the past few days how lacking my knowledge of this country really was. The fluidity of WWII, general history, and recent culture and politics can be felt everywhere here: they are inseparable. If I can see my life in a fig tree, I hope at least one of the figs is one in which I continue to learn, engage, and explore in good company.
