Noa Murray ’26

The following post was adapted from a conversation between Noa Murray ’25 and “Jessica” Yijia Qin ‘28, an intern with the Global Engagement Office (GEO).¹

Noa is a double-major in Theater and Psychology who spent a spring semester abroad in Rabat, Morocco with SIT Study Abroad. She immersed herself in experiential coursework, a new language, and found a home she quickly learned to love.

How did you choose Morocco for study abroad?

My decision to study abroad wasn’t sudden. The idea first took shape during my sophomore year, inspired by conversations with my cousin, who had studied in Paris and Cape Town. She had such positive experiences, and that made me realize that I wanted something like that too. 

Choosing where to go was more difficult!  Europe felt accessible. But I wanted something else, something connected somehow to my Nigerian heritage, while also defying expectations. I knew that I wanted to travel to an African country as I wasn’t sure when I’d get the chance again.

I found myself increasingly drawn to Morocco, a country I knew almost nothing about. The pull was instinctive: the family-oriented culture, the proximity to Europe, the tension between the familiar and the completely new. It felt like a place where I could grow.

While exploring programs, another nonnegotiable emerged – I knew that I wanted to live with a host family. Not all programs offer that.  I knew that if I was going to be in a new culture, I wanted to understand daily life, not just visit it.  I came across the SIT Morocco program, and everything lined up.

What was your homestay like?

My host family included my host parents and an adult host sister in her 40s. None of them spoke English. But rather than alienating me, that linguistic gap became our foundation. It was wonderful; I felt so at ease in their home.
Despite limited communication, my host mom could immediately sense my comfort. 

Our conversation floated between gestures, warmth, and Google Translate.  Extended relatives were often in and out of the home, including two young host nieces who both spoke English and helped bridge conversations.  I listened to stories I couldn’t fully decipher, but still felt included in. Even if I didn’t understand most of what they were saying, I still felt like part of the home. 

My host mom was protective in the way Moroccan parents often are, and made sure I was safe, fed, and cared for. My host sister, who knew only a handful of English phrases, tried earnestly to communicate anyway. The love was unmistakable, even when the words weren’t.

What did your coursework look like?

Each morning began with Arabic, an intensive class led by a teacher who challenged us to push beyond what felt comfortable.  I also attended a seminar that brought the cohort to nonprofit organizations across Rabat, where staff members and guest lecturers shared their work and invited students into discussions about the city’s social landscape.  The SIT program model is centered on what students observe, and not solely what they extract from a textbook. 

The final component of my coursework was a month-long internship, where I taught English to Moroccan high-school students. My internship was both the hardest and the most defining part of my experience.  Not many of the students could speak English, which meant I had to teach without knowing much of their home language.  Miscommunications were constant. Classroom materials sometimes failed to appear and technical issues stalled lessons. Yet the students were welcoming, generous, and patient, and the experience forced me to rethink what learning really requires. It was a lot of observing, a lot of adjusting. 

What did you do with your time outside of class?

Outside of class, I took surfing lessons at a coastal club and met two local surfers my age. I rode a camel in the Sahara Desert. I hiked to waterfalls in the south. I traveled with friends to explore other parts of Morocco. Throughout my time abroad, I tried new foods, discovered new cafés, and navigated a city that slowly stopped feeling foreign.

What advice would you offer to fellow students?

My biggest piece of advice to anyone going abroad is simple but deeply felt: Don’t wait until the last month to settle in. 

People want to travel everywhere, but don’t forget to appreciate where you are living. Let yourself belong earlier. Take walks without a destination. Wander the markets. Go back to the places that make you feel good. Say yes to moments of spontaneity when it feels safe. Talk to the people who show curiosity or kindness. Find your favorite spots early, because those are the things you’ll miss the most.

What are you taking away from this experience?

When I boarded a plane for Morocco, I wasn’t simply looking for a change in scenery. I was looking for space—to breathe, to learn differently, and to experience a world unlike the one I knew. I didn’t expect how much one city, one host family, and one unfamiliar language would shift my understanding of connection itself.

Morocco taught me the resilience of learning through discomfort and the beauty of releasing control.  Moroccan culture taught me how to let go. In the U.S., I always want things to go smoothly. I like when things follow the plan. But abroad, those plans often dissolved. Delayed meetings. Misunderstood instructions. A shared classroom printer that refused to cooperate. Instead of spiraling, I learned to improvise. I had to be more flexible, more trusting. Being abroad showed me that life doesn’t always follow your plan, but that doesn’t mean it’s going wrong.

I felt so loved there. That love is the kindness that crosses languages, homes, and continents. It has stayed with me long after I left Rabat’s coastline behind.

1. The views and/or opinions represented in the GEO blog belong solely to the student(s) and do not represent Swarthmore College; students are not liable for any errors or omissions in the personal experiences they share. ↩︎