I guess the highlights from my time in Marrakech would have to include getting hustled by the snake handlers and mugged by the henna ladies. Just when you think you've figured out their tricks, they come up with something new. In the case of the henna harangue, one woman handed me some photos of potential artwork to browse--knowing I was "just looking"--and another younger woman swooped in and began applying henna to my forearm before I could protest. Of course, I could've dropped the book right then and walked off, but, no, I got sucked in, and as she's applying the henna, the woman tells me it'll only stay for two weeks. All this took place in about 30 seconds, mind you. It was dark, too, so when I get into the light, I realize, she's run out of henna at one point, and continued in another, much darker colo--which is taking much longer to wear off. The lighter brown henna lies above my wrist and on two fingers, and the darker henna covers the length of my right thumb and next two fingers. Quite visible. I imagine this is the equivalent of walking around wearing a t-shirt that says "Mark" or "I've been punk'd" (in the parlance of our times). Oh, and also, I've seen good henna: she did a totally crap job. It was definitely a scam and I suppose the real henna artists (for lack of a better word) don't appreciate the hustlers undermining their overall integrity.
Anyway, it'll be fun explaining the blackened fingers on my right hand when I get back to the bank next Monday.
Honestly, I've gotten off easy, though, and the 15 odd dollars I forked over in total (to snakehandlers, henna ladies, et al) seems a small price to pay for the photos and accompanying stories. And considering starting wages here are about 50 cents an hour, all concerned did pretty well for themselves.
The eating I did in Marrakech was the best so far. For dinner I skipped the restaurants and ate very cheaply and very well at the stalls in the Djemaa El Fna--the large open area (square-ish) in Marrakech's massive medina that is the city's primary attraction. Apparently, some tourists avoid these stalls, thinking them unsanitary, but they cook everything right in front of you and it all seemed very fresh to me. The guys running the stalls are both very aggressive --which may scare some tourists off--but they're also very good-humored and creative in getting you to join in with their festivities. And since you simpy sit on a bench right in front of their very colorful array of foods, it all feels very convivial and it's easy to strike up a conversation with your fellow travelers. I had an engaging conversation about American politics and "Americanization" in general with a couple of German students.
Earlier the previous day at lunch I fell into conversation with some Irish/Spanish tourists and a Moroccan on vacation in Marrakech from Casa, who asked me "Why are Americans so stupid?" in reference to the upcoming elections. I guess another tourist might understandably take offense at this question and consider it anti-American, but since I tend to wonder the same (considering the adulation a completely unqualified president like Bush receives*) a great conversation ensued. Also, even if you do consider the sentiment anti-American, this didn't come from a slavering fundamentalist type, it came from a genuinely congenial every-day sort of guy, who clearly meant me personally no ill will, though he no idea of my political inclinations when he asked the question!
All told, if you ever go to Morocco, you *must* go to Marrakech and the Djemaa El Fna or your experience here simply won't be complete.
I'll add some photos later (likely of my henna job), though they may have to wait until I return to the States.
*The German girl I spoke with was astonished by the idea that when Bush became president he had never before left the country. She pointed out that she wouldn't quailfy for many jobs in Germany had she so little travel experience.
Finished 6:10 pm Morocco time
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