Why I will never return to the medina of Marrakech ? Zero to 100 in a few seconds
Morocco isn’t an easy place to travel or work as a women being alone. Yesterday, I took the train quite late from Casablanca to Marrakech. I was told harassment in the streets would be less in Marrakech and considering I look somewhat Moroccan to some (not all) it should be easy. The train ride was amazing through the country, swinging around a mountain and the only thing you can see is the end of the train. At the same time it was scary to sit in cabins of 6 people with the lights out. The lady next to me was breastfeeding, this was quite surprising for me. I would never expect this in Morocco. Everyone on the train was very friendly. People helped me with my 2 heavy suitcases trying to get them off and on the train. The train was narrow but there was no pushing only people being helpful. I had a hard time staying a wake for 3 hours and after listening over 15 times at the Justin Bieber CD; I arrived in Marrakech.
I woke up very early as I was excited to visit the most talked about city of Marrakech. I began with the medina. I had put on a contemporary djellaba in the hope I would not picked on as a tourist. My so called Moroccan face should do the work. WRONG WRONG, was I wrong. I’ ll tell you all about it.
Today was Berber market in Marrakech, a place were original ‘mountain people’ sell biological products such as argan oil. The moment I stepped a foot in the medina it began…. Speak English, Espagnol, Brezilienne?, Paris, Marseille, Italienne, Ah American. You are the first customer today, it’s good luck I will break the price! I heard this line over 100 times today. I didn’t take much money as I didn’t want to buy anything in the souk because I wasn’t in the mood to haggle. Even if you haggle as a foreigner you will always lose. So I continued waking through the many different souks. I ignored all the comments and continued through the many tiny treats. I saw a beanie stand with a woman in a full niqab. I thought this must be beanies from a female cooperative and so she said it was. Real woollen beanies. I told her I didn’t have enough money on me and couldn’t buy the beanies. Obviously no one believes it so I decided to show me her entire wallet and so she accepted the price. I am still sure that I paid too much. Later I saw the beanies everywhere in the medina and realised this isn’t all from cooperatives. Many use the social character of the cooperatives to rip off people. I am a sucker for female cooperatives and small business. However, I get the impression that it is more being exploited by men. I found an argan oil cooperative with fixed prices and realised I wasn’t ripped off in Casablanca. Here prices were even higher. The price of argan oil is expensive here, I can find it cheaper in Belgium.
I continued through the souk and saw beautiful handmade boots. I was afraid to ask the price but I went for it. The man was friendly and brought the price down himself when I told him I needed to pay by bank card. He said discount with cash. I guess he thought I had cash on me. Again really no cash and believed me and brought me to the ATM in the medina. By the time we got to the ATM he reduced the price even more as I wasn’t lying. He said the slippers I was wearing are typical for Norwegian tourists. Maybe it’s the sandals that are making me look like a tourist ? Or is it because I constant take pictures ?
I bought 2 more belts with my last money and went through the same with the salesman. Dude this is my last money! He was eager to grab the coins from my hand and not in a polite way! Out of money, I check my map of the medina and hope to find one of the restaurants I had been reading about. I found Le Jardins and it was lovely. A peaceful oasis in the souk! A bird took a crap on my plate but all the rest was great. I asked the friendly staff to help to the Koranic school and the Marrakech museum. The restaurant had a back exit and a few minutes later I find myself in front of the mosque and museums.
Local people start screaming at me. You can’t walk there because that’s not for tourists. That’s the mosque, don’t go there. Some areas are for tourists some for locals. I am not sure if it’s true till now. A lady started shouting that I should buy her bangles. Oh it’s a gift take it. I traveled enough not to know not to accept. It’s never a gift. Once they push the item in your hands; you are screwed. Finish the complete dry-run starts. I needed to get out of this souk. People were all telling me to go back there is nothing there but I was told by he hotel manager not to listen or speak to anyone. He was right! He said Marrakech people talk too much; don’t tell them anything. Be careful watch your back! This is not a joke.
I passed next to the leather sale market that has a strange smell. Here the skins of goats, pigs and cows are traded. I am sure that a lot of it goes worldwide. This is the point where I got lost in the souk. People wanted to know where I was doing on. I refused to speak. Algerian ? French we will bring you to the square. I didn’t say anything and kept on moving fast. I didn’t see any tourists. It is low season anyway but yet not one single tourist. The neighborhoods became uglier, dirtier and poorer…. Where was I going ? How was I going to get out of here. This part is no longer on the map. A guy came up to me wanting to show me the way but I didn’t trust it. He told another man, I think a Mauritian to guide me out. I really didn’t want this but had no more hope. I followed him trying not to talk but he kept trying and I said No. He said are you deaf? What language ? Horrible 30 minute walk and still no exit. Then he tells me here you have to go to the right and then you are back at the square. Where what ? No we aren’t there yet. These are the tanneries. Tanneries is where they color the leather. Oh he said: “you wanted to see the tanneries!” I said what? No I didn’t ask you anything! I didn’t want this! He said pay me. I had no money in my wallet and even if I had I wasn’t going to give it to him. He said then I will walk with you to the bank. I walked off, he started shouting I need to pay him. Other people surrounded me and said I needed to pay him. I said no I didn’t ask him and finally said lets go to the police. They stopped. I continued walking but the guy began to follow me so I started swinging left and right through the souk. Till he stopped. I asked a group of Germans the way but they couldn’t specify either. A young kid overheard me and told me to follow him out. I told him don’t screw me over and get me out this souk. I decided that I would pay him if he gets me out completely. He stops after 20 minutes and demands to be paid. I told him dude I will pay you get me out and to a real bank. Finally after another 10 minutes I am out the souk. I went to the bank and paid him 5 euro. It was 5 euro well spent. Till I fell in the hands of the cobra men.
They are circling around the men square with snakes. I hate snakes. I tried to pass by quickly but yet I began staring when the cobra went to stand up straight when it listened to the music. I wanted a photo, I knew this was going to cost me. I told him to drop the snakes and walk towards me. I gave him my camera to take a picture. He asked many questions to which I replied I am Saida from Algeria. Saida which part in Algeria …. Euh American born Algerian… These people won’t stop. Here is 5 euro for the picture. Ohhh no he became upset 5 euro that’s nothing, you have to give 20 euro minimum for the food of the snakes ? What ? Here we go again Moroccans going from 0 to 100 in a few seconds. It’s almost like you are dealing with bipolar vendors. I opened my purse showed him all as there was no money inside. He said I see 20 euro, I said if you see it please give to me. He said ok give me perfume. Dude I don’t have perfume on me… Lol… I had a dollar still from NY. Here you go now yalla… Back to normal he said beautiful Saida Moroccan price. Whatever! I was sick of this BS and head to the thumbs in the kasbah. I don’t look around anymore and only speak to police officers and military. Now I am hardcore I am not withdrawing any money and only going to shops with fixed price that accept credit cards. The fixed prices are even lower than the souk prices!
After being asked 100 times where from, pushed into shops, cooperatives of Berber products, I decided I was done with the medina and ask a police officer for the way to Lamamounia. I have always wanted to go there. It’s more beautiful than on TV. Inshallah, I am in peace. I enjoy the orangeries and over priced food. No more hassle. I overhear 2 Belgians as they asked if they could use bankcontact. It’s maestro card I thought to myself but let’s have a chat. I asked them about their souk experience and it was like mine. Awful! At the end you don’t even want anything anymore. You become rude and don’t speak to anymore anymore. The blond Belgian girl said that she was happy she had a man with her because alone she would never risk it! Welcome to my world! Alone in Morocco as a women isn’t a joke. They will never get me back in the souk.
