In her dreams she takes her shawl, wraps it around her head and runs through the market. One hand holds the shawl and the other one holds her long dress. Her sandals makes her slip from time to time, but she never falls. She knows the fastest way to school and halfway there her friends make her company. They laugh and talk. Just as they see the school, she wakes up. At that point she still can feel the warm sun on her face, the sand in her sandals and how the air is filled with scents from the market, the houses and home.

She was born in the early morning by the edge of the desert. At that point she became the Daughter of the Desert and well known to the people of Marrakech. Her parents and others could see her grow, learn to read and strive for a high education. If she did not read, she ate. Chicken and kebab was and still are her favorites. During her walks at the market, many sellers gave her something small to eat or take with her home.

At home she often played with her big gray Maine Coon cat. Some believed it was a lion in disguise and she could not stop laughing when people started to talk about this. Crazy people, she thought. Have they never seen a cat?

She is brave and have no limits in trying new things. That is why her life suddenly changed. With her knowledge, she took off on an adventure. She was brave enough to travel through places no one, especially a lady, had been at. She explored, met people and wrote all about it in her journal. After being away for many years, she settled down in the Victorian Britain. The national railway network stimulated her to travel and enjoy leisure opportunities. The visits to the seaside resorts, race meetings and being a part of the urban society gave her energy. But deep down, with the patriarchal lifestyle and large families, she missed her own home, by the edge of the desert.

Someday she will travel back home.