Sunday, August 5, 2012

from Rabat to Fez

So, as you could probably tell from my previous post that I am not having a straightforward time of it at all. I have random men calling out things to me, or coming up to me and muttering away, which I dont understand. My lack of understanding may just be a good thing here, as i accidentally shrugged my shoulders at one guy who shouted "blahblahblaaah" to me and then realized that he was following me around. Turned out I had shrugged to a suggestion of tapas, and when I said no, did he get pissed off or what. Not fun.

Marrakech was... overwhelming. I will be honest and admit that I was glad to leave. In the touristy areas, I was constantly hounded by henna ladies who looked like they were going to fly at me and start hennaing away whatever part of me is within reach, vendors selling tours jumping at me out of nowhere, and constant calls of "OYEEE". I was so tempted to turn around and tell them that oye is not my fucking name and it doesn't fill me with an indescribable desire to buy their overpriced stuff but held my tongue. Until at one point I was wandering along a lane I thought wasn't too touristy, and a teenage boy thought it would be very funny to come up to me on a motorbike and start spraying water in my face. My sense of humour doesn't stretch that far so I promptly told him to fuck off. Surprisingly, he looked a bit unsettled. Do other tourists not say anything to this kind of nonsense.. can't find the question mark on this keyboard.

Then I got to Rabat, the detail of which I cant blog right now as the two French guys waiting for the computer have started shooting murderous looks at me. They might be my roomates so I better hand it over to them.


  1. Woah! Sounds like you went through hell! :S

    1. ah well, today was even more 'interesting'. I'll blog details later! And no worries my dear Shalisha, im fine as always, just a little weary and filled with an irresistable desire to smack these annoying men on the head with a moroccan frying pan :D

  2. Loved your blog post. I had a similer experience in volunteering in Ghana. The Men would always want to "take me as a friend" and because I was a very white short female and solo traveller I couldn't go anywhere without getting a fair bit of attention. I remember going to Cape Coast (which was a central point of the slave trade)and going to the famous Castle and then spending the rest of the day in my motel room because the attention just got too much.

  3. it is so frustrating, isn't it?! Plus there is hardly anything u can do to shake them off. I wonder why men like that keep trying. I doubt there is a single female (tourist or not) who would respond positively to them.