Two weeks ago, I set out with three of my colleagues
from the High Atlas Foundation (HAF, Marrakech) to
the village of Gourrama in the Moroccan Middle At-
las Mountains. Our journey, from sunrise to sunset,
took us across rugged terrains and through commu-
nities of all sizes. I reveled in the beauty, both na-
tural and created, that flashed by my window as we
drove. Each of the passing images aroused in me the
innocent excitement one feels at seeing a place for
the first time, if even just for a moment.
Solitary concrete buildings partitioned the
flowing green fields we slipped through. Washed in
fading emeralds, reds, pinks, and oranges, in profi-
le, they appeared as stooped faces, their heavy-set
brows animated by the soulful eyes of lit windows.
They, witnesses to the passing lives and journeys of
all, were solemn and resolute in their observation.
Other constructions lay further back from the road,
their glossy tin roofs peeking out from the verdant
seas beside which they stood. The space between
these oases of life and color did not feel hollow or
maligned. It existed alongside the same expansive-
ness with which the blue sky above stretched up,
out, and around us, without limit.
Upon arrival in Gourrama, we met with local re-
presentatives to drop off several hundred walnut and
almond saplings at surrounding agricultural associa-
tions. These were only a fraction of the thousands
of fruit trees we had carried with us, tightly packed
in the back of our vehicle beside our luggage. One
such representative, Tarik Sadki, head of the local
association, gave us a tour of the property where we
would be staying. Among the many buildings of mud
brick and reinforced straw we walked through, one
room, in particular, was a source of pride for Tarik.
Here, he had curated a museum space over the past
20 years, dedicated to the preservation of the re-
gion’s history dating back a millennium, containing
dozens of Amazigh, Arab, and French artifacts, from
ancient tools and weapons to contemporary pieces
of artwork.
This first morning in Gourrama, we distri-
buted trees to 32 local farming families. Men,
old and young alike, arrived wearing customary
earth-toned djellabas to stave off the morning’s
chill and protect their eyes from the rising sun.
Excitedly, they hoisted their sapling bundles
Where tradition
meets climate change
La tradición frente al cambio climático
Nicolas Pantelick
Nicolas Pantelick is a student from the United States on a gap
year before university, who is interning with the High Atlas
Foundation in Marrakech, Morocco.
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OTWO 08 / MARCH 2020
OTWO 08 / MARCH 2020
79