A Tryst with Terra Cotta

Reeling from the loss of her father, SHIVANI SOMAIYA discovers that wandering the narrow alleyways, bustling souks and world-famous gardens of Marrakech by herself is the best path to healing her grief and anxiety

- SHIVANI SOMAIYA

It is 4am in Marrakech and I’m already awake. I catch the first shafts of light as they extend over the dusty pink clay walls of the medina in the distance. The smell of freshly brewed coffee infused with cardamom and cinnamon fills my nose. From my balcony, I watch quietly as the birds zip between two blue jacaranda trees, their chirping drowned out by the drone of a passing motorbike. The streets are empty, save for a lone stray cat or two. If seemingly everyone in Marrakech is asleep, why am I awake?

It is nerves, perhaps, or maybe the fact that I’m making my way through a new city all by myself. As the rest of Marrakech remains in slumber, I lie awake trying to arrive at an answer.

According to a study by Alice Jones Bartoli and Alice M Gregory, anxiety is known to influence sleep. It can activate parts of the brain that cause one to become more alert, especially in unknown environments, which is why many anxious people tend to wake up during an ungodly hour when they are travelling. As someone diagnosed with high-functioning anxiety in my twenties, I’ve come to learn that my condition is largely driven by a fear of the unknown. My cognitive patterns have a tendency to anticipate the worst possible outcome, and this has only worsened in the wake of my father’s passing.