Morocco For Tourists

A Brazilian guy and an English/New Zealander gal met in Russia while teaching English. They got married and are spending a year traveling the world as part of their honeymoon, which is documented on this blog. I met them while they were in Meknes.

They have now moved on to Egypt, but here is longish quote giving their final reflections on Morocco. I found it particularly insightful in its comparison of tourist publicity and tourist reality:

When I think of Morocco, I think of; raw energy, magnificence, reserved people, natural, loud noisy music, spicy cumin, the heat, dust, unexpected patches of green, sand, decorations, huge bunches of mint, toothless old men and women, relaxed stunningly rugged coastlines, huge, splendid Atlas and Rif Mountain Ranges, the desert, camels, long bus rides, fresh baked bread and honey for breakfast, incredible beauty, Kif in the Rif, sad donkeys, beggars, dirt, the sun, women in head-scarves, men in djellabas, old bicycles, haggling, and all of it very last minute.

Morocco is nothing like how I expected it to be and I've been wanting to come for a very long time, ever since seeing it on 'Wish you were here' an old holiday programme providing precious escapism from the humdrum of school/home life.

Everyone is in your face from the moment you leave the house/airport/bus/shop. They work so hard on getting you in their shops or on making a sale it's a strange feeling that as soon as you've capitulated and take a look, they lose all interest in you and don't care about charming you (if they ever did) just as long as you buy something (for at least three times the price it's worth), apparently it's all in the chase. In Marrakesh I watched a woman selling handmade raffia bags to a tourist she had hassled to make a sale. As soon as she had the money in her hot little hands she was away like a shot and the man had to chase after her to get his change back, which she was reluctant to give and practically threw at him while still shuffling off at high speed to find someone else to sell to.

We've made very few real friends from the locals despite them being so friendly. Mind you nine times out of ten the friendliness is just a prelude to an invitation to part with our hard earned money, whether it is after (minimal) services rendered as an unwanted guide, or to a shop if someone shows you the way somewhere 'for free, as a friend' and invites you back to their home! While we were in Fez a young student took us to a small terrace which was public but you'd never have found the way there, he and Djalma talked about different things while I stood further away feeling uneasy about this free service, after all we don't know the guy and it's is truly rare that one will want to help another (especially that other who perceived to have more) without harbouring any ulterior motive. So I was quite relieved that when he invited us back to his family home for some real Berber tea and it was actually a family run factory where his half sister gave us a very soft sell. She showed us photos of their family, all doing camel tours (which surprise! They also offered as well as carpets and cushion covers) and spoke to us about what they all did.

The real down side is that when, on the rare occasion, we do meet someone who is genuine, honest and helpful, I am so sceptical that they are as they seem that I end up missing out on opportunities and feel rude and mean spirited when their lack of agenda becomes apparent.