Fake and real friends

On the last day in Marrakech, everything went smoothly. Despite the scorching 40 degrees, we went on a shopping tour in the souks (markets) and then relaxed on the rooftop terrace. An employee of the riad, who had recently emigrated from Senegal to Morocco, approached us and, with great agitation, told us that his mother had an accident and urgently needed surgery, so he needed cash quickly and asked if we could give him 40 euros. One usually knows what’s coming when the greeting starts with 'my friends.' While we are quite familiar with this trick from traveling/Nätthu's volunteer work in 'real Africa,' we were nonetheless momentarily taken aback because it doesn’t suit the hospitality of Moroccans at all. In any case, we said we didn’t have that much cash on us, and that was that. Because he had of course also realized that we saw through his trick, he then tried to 'distract' us with friendly small talk. He told us that his sister works for Amazon in France (so she surely would have had the 40 euros for their mother) and then spent another 60 minutes explaining the divine order to us. How it is just natural that women have to cook and clean, while men decide everything and should have several wives, and that feminism is anyway the downfall and blablabla. By the way, the initial agitation regarding his mother quickly faded away. It’s a shame in a way, and there’s not much one can do about it. If we had complained to the owner, the poor guy would probably have lost his job, and that’s something we don’t want either. Well...

In any case, the next day we set off for Tinghir, where the Todra Gorge is located. The drive was relatively uneventful. Sure, there are some very bad drivers (including French ones) and not all vehicles, especially trucks, meet our safety standards, but the roads are almost Swiss and there is little traffic. The police regularly conduct checks, but they always wave us through or ask super friendly how we are, where we want to go, and wish us a good trip. Really nice guys. We arrived on time at our accommodation with a very nice older Berber couple. We were warmly greeted with tea and enjoyed an excellent traditional Berber meal in the evening. The rooms are minimalist (the 'bathroom' is a metal box inside the otherwise already small room), not very clean, and the night was rather tough due to the very small, squeaky bed and the sagging mattress. However, the view, authentic decor, and hospitality are unbeatable. In the morning, we drove to the gorge and first had a coffee at a small snack bar. The waiter, also a Berber, greeted us and immediately explained that he doesn't like Arabs and French people and therefore prefers to speak English. Especially the latter made him immediately likable. We then spontaneously decided to do a 3.5-hour hike over the gorge in the blazing Moroccan sun. It was worth it, and we were rewarded with amazing views and even met some incredibly nice Berber (nomads) living in the mountains. On the way back, another Berber chatted with us, asking if we had not seen two Belgians on the hike. They are living with him, and he was worried. We explained to him that we had indeed seen them and that they were practically already down, so he didn’t need to worry. We were then invited for tea as a thank you, and he told us about his family and his carpet weaving business, which he also showed us. Oh, and he also wanted to show me how to wrap a turban, for some reason. Of course, he subtly took the opportunity to persuade us to buy a carpet or come to dinner with him in the evening, but all in all, it was a nice experience. Finally, we chatted with the Berber in the parking lot, who was pleased that we gave him 20 dirhams (about 2 francs) for the parking spot. Now we are back in our accommodation, enjoying tea that we, of course, received right after our arrival. By the way, one cannot refuse tea here; that would be rude. So the conclusion is: Berbers are really nice, tea is also nice, the classic African ‘my sick mother’ trick followed by sexist-chauvinistic 'let me explain the world to you' lectures - rather less nice.

Tomorrow we head into the desert.
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The last day in Marrakech everything went smoothly. Despite the forty degree heat, we went shopping in the souks (markets) and then relaxed on the rooftop terrace. An employee of the riad, who had recently emigrated from Senegal to Morocco, came to us and, in great agitation, told us how his mother had an accident and now urgently needed surgery, so he needed cash very quickly, and asked us if we could give him 40 euros. Actually, one knows what is coming when the greeting starts with 'my friends.' Even though we know this trick pretty well from traveling/Nätthu's volunteer work in 'real Africa,' we were still taken aback for a moment, as it does not fit the hospitality of Moroccans. In any case, we told him that we did not have that much cash with us, and that was it. Since he had of course also figured out that we had seen through his trick, he then wanted to 'distract' us with friendly conversation. He told us that his sister works for Amazon in France (so she surely would have had the 40 for the mother) and then explained to us for another 60 minutes the divine order. How it is just natural that women have to cook and clean and the men decide everything and have several wives, and feminism is anyway the downfall and blablablub. By the way, his initial excitement concerning his mother quickly faded. It’s a pity somehow, and there’s not much to be done about it. If we had complained to the owner, the poor guy would probably have lost his job, and we wouldn’t want that either. Oh well...

In any case, the next day we set off for Tinghir, where the Todra Gorge is located. The drive was quite uneventful. Sure, there are some very bad drivers here (including the French) and not all vehicles, especially trucks, meet our safety standards, but the roads are almost Swiss and there’s little traffic. The police carry out regular checks, but they always wave us through or super friendly ask how we are, where we are headed and wish us a safe trip. Really nice folks. We arrived on time at our accommodation with a very nice older Berber couple. We were warmly welcomed with tea and in the evening enjoyed an excellent traditional Berber meal. The rooms are minimalist (the 'bathroom' is a metal box in the otherwise already small room), not too clean, and the night was quite challenging due to the very small, loudly creaking bed and worn mattress. On the other hand, the view and authentic furnishings, as well as hospitality can’t be beaten. In the morning we set off by car to the gorge and had coffee first at a small snack bar. The waiter, also a Berber, greeted us and immediately explained that he doesn't like Arabs and French people, so he prefers to speak English. The latter made him immediately likable. We then spontaneously decided to embark on a 3.5-hour hike over the gorge in the blazing Moroccan sun. It was worth it, and we were rewarded with stunning views and even met some very kind Berbers (nomads) who live in the mountains. On the way back, another Berber spoke to us, asking if we’d met two Belgians on the hike. They were living with him, and he was worried. We explained that we had actually seen them and that they were practically down already; he didn't need to worry. We were quickly invited for tea in thanks, and he told us about his family and his carpet weaving business, which he then also showed us. Oh, and he wanted to show me how to wrap a turban for some reason. Naturally, he subtly took the opportunity to persuade us to buy a carpet or come to dinner with him in the evening, but all in all, it was a nice experience. Finally, we chatted with the Berber in the parking lot, who was pleased that we gave him 20 dirhams (about 2 francs) for the parking spot. Now we are back in our accommodation enjoying some warm tea that we, of course, received promptly upon arrival. By the way, one cannot refuse tea here; that would be rude. So to summarize: Berbers are really nice, tea is also nice, the classic African 'my sick mother' trick followed by sexist-chauvinistic 'let me explain the world to you' lectures - rather less nice.

Tomorrow we head into the desert.