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Back in 2019, while working and living in France, I travelled to Morocco encouraged by a friend of mine who assured me I was going fall in love with its culture. She had worked with an important American journalist, so she knew the place quite well, her heart stayed in Morocco and its people. The way she talked about the country and its culture made me feel I was wasting my time every single minute that I was not there. Thus, without having any previous knowledge, first thing I did was buying some airplane tickets. Right afterwards, I felt a great fear rarely experienced in my entire life, derived from dozens of stories I read related with bad experiences in the country. I swallowed my wrong ideas and decided it was going to be something out of the ordinary, since it was a completely different culture to mine. That's what I was looking for, and it was terrible… I must confess I made some stupid decisions while "planning" my trip, such as not having booked a place to stay when I got to the country. I did it on purpose, as I was trying to travel on my own way, trying to isolate myself from the typical buyer guided tourist we all see all the time... I hated that, so I decided to improvise a little bit. I had a vague idea about where and how to get to specific places, such as the Blue Gate in Fez. That was all… An ambiguous map… To sum up, I got lost in the middle of nowhere, I didn’t know the language nor the city. Luckily some people in the country speak French, so that’s how I was able to communicate. Also, thanks to a polite old man I found in the street, I was able to get to a hostel and get some sleep. I remember I asked my friend: "Is it dangerous to travel or live in Morocco". I know it’s wrong -or probably common to ask this kind of questions when you don’t know a place- but I guess my idea of the Muslim world was -de- formed by American movies. Her answer, however, was so sharp: “The only way they can kill somebody is with their tenderness”. I confirmed that several times during trip… Well, even thought I had the idea of going to a place "full of perils", it was quite the opposite. The only danger a person can find is having stolen his/her stereotypes, which in this case is good: even necessary. My ideas about the country were crashed, tore down into pieces by the humble and beautiful way this people live. While visiting 5 difference cities in two weeks, I was left alone all with my worse enemy: myself, and I was able to appreciate the beauty of difference. That’s how I was able to love diversity… When I got back home I realized how important is traveling... As Miguel de Unamuno said: Reading is necessary to get rid of fascism, traveling, on the other hand, help us to get rid of racism. I don’t practice none of those ideologies, but it is true, people is turning more intolerant nowadays, little by little. I believe it’s important to promote diversity when we travel, acceptance and support for travelers and local people. As a travel journalist, I’d really love to work against prejudices around the world. Our differences is what make this world so interesting.