Universal gateway to earning respect

The wanderlust and travel hungry genes inside of me jumped for delight when I found out my college was going to be sending a group of French students on a study away program to Morocco for two weeks during my freshman year of college. I knew as I sat in my French 101 class, reading the flier for the trip, I was going to be on that trip. Nothing would be stopping me.
My experience in Morocco was my first adventure outside of the U.S., and I was ecstatic. I was hungry for something new. A change in scenery and something that would make me feel alive. Somehow my trip met these expectations, and went far above them.
With dreams of the Sahara, olive trees and the mountains dancing in my head, I was unaware prior to the trip how my immersion would open my mind to how I viewed my own culture and way of life.
As I gathered my carry on bag and walked into the small airport lobby in Casablanca, I was jet lagged, tired, and I could already tell by the way the air felt against my skin, this was a place unlike I had ever been before.
I had chosen before I went on my trip that I would be sporting a more conservative wardrobe while in Morocco. Quickly, I discovered how much this was going to impact my experience throughout the course of my trip. As I was leaving the airport, I was wearing a blue floor length skirt, a white blouse and a purple patterned scarf which covered my hair.
As I gathered my belongings and walked over to the airport ATM and began fiddling with it, trying to make sense of the mix of Arabic and French in front of me, a woman, around my age, with a long white flowing skirt and a green striped scarf wrapped around her head approached me.
She tapped me on the shoulder, I turned and jumped at her sudden presence. She said to me in English, “I hope I am not bothersome to you, but I wanted to tell you thank you so much for respecting my culture in your dress. It really makes me happy to see a traveler like you going through such lengths to respect me and my traditions.”
I stood there, unable to say anything for a moment. Then I struck up the ability to remember words once again, and I said it was a pleasure to be in her country.
In that moment, I did not believe that my dress had such a large impact on her, but the experience in the airport made me realize I am serving as an ambassador for my country. How I dress and generally present myself is the interpretation that Moroccans will have of Americans. I needed to leave them with a good impression.