Day 49

Definition of tourist

noun - a person who is travelling or visiting a place for pleasure

There are two reasons why I would not have considered myself a tourist this weekend. The first being that after living in Morocco for almost two months, I feel we have progressed beyond tourist status. Although no where near a local, our knowledge, language and attitude towards the country are more educated than the fresh tourist. 

The other reason I would not have thought of myself as a tourist was because, according to the Oxford Dictionary, I was not a tourist. I experienced no pleasure in visiting Marrakesh. 

As a natural optimist this blog is particuarly difficult to write...

Our spontaneous trip to the unofficial capital of Morocco, was spent feeling uncomfortable, upset and on edge. Our original plan of experiencing Eid Kabir (the most celebrate religious festival in Morocco) sadly became less about culture and more about survival in the foreign city. We practiced this art in real life, and on board game as we acquired a Moroccan Monopoly set!

Famous last words uttered by Victoria as we arrived at Marrakesh train station "They should be used to tourists here, so we won't get the hassle we get at home"

The 'hassle' we receive in Fez is now considered polite conversation. In Marrakesh  the traders and restaurant owners know that tourists will eat and spend their dirhams whatever; they have no need to be polite. 

In Fez they don't touch. In Marrakesh they do; hands, cat-calls and curses were thrown our way when we didn't oblige the eager shop keepers. Walking around the old Medina we were followed. Maybe they were just curious, but we were uncomfortable enough not to find out. Taxi drivers demanded extortionate amounts of money and motorbikes roared around the small Medina streets flattening the inhabitants against walls. 

Maybe we were unlucky. 

Maybe we had a bad beginning.

Maybe because we were a group of 4 girls we were a target. 

Maybe we missed a secret that everyone else knew.

Obviously, there was a highlight. Our final night was spent in the main square of the old Medina  which I do implore you to visit. The food stalls in the heart of the square are fantastic and we ate the best aubergine we've ever had. We met up with an ex-Fez student, James, a charismatic Irishman with karma on his side, who had befriended some local Marrakesh boys. Dinner was spent in tears over their jokes where the punchlines simply did not translate, while Sambuka disguised as water was passed around the table to celebrate Eid. Paradox. 

Marrakesh is like London. It has London prices and tourists gravitate towards it's vibrance. However it is nothing like London, because in London people don't care if you're a tourist. The livelihood of the people of Marrakesh depend on tourism. It's a tiresome waiting game to see who will back down first; the tourists or the locals.

I will return to Marrakesh in December with friends and insha'allah I will leave with a different opinion. 

Earlier in the week we moved into our beautiful riad in the heart of the old Medina. The rainy season is about to begin. It's all very exciting. 

الله يهنيك

Nay xxx