Berlin, Germany

I can’t say I didn’t have fun in Marrakkech. It’s one of the most developed regions in Africa, and the culture of the Berbers is resolutely proud. The Old City has the largest market in the world where street performers, side-street businessmen, artists, fortune tellers, musicians, snake charmers, and monkey handlers come daily to show their wares and perform. But each performer has a story, and sadly the reason we were able to enjoy and see their performance is a matter of economics–unemployment, inflation, (lack of) job creating, illiteracy, education, etc., etc. Even though Morocco is one of the most developed countries in Africa, and Marrakech one of the most developed cities within the consortium of cities in Morocco, the city pails in comparison with our travels to other Western European countries, and even travels to Thailand and Burma’s border. This was my first African country and I expected to be blown away by poverty. Sadly, I was not disappointed.

The GDP and unemployment figures speak for themselves in Marrakech:
* GDP (PPP) $4,587
* Unemployment around 30%

Apart from the endemic poverty, the stories I left with were equally as shocking.

One of the most searing and impressing experience was the elder who told me that 9/11 was a good thing, and that because the Taliban has “Allah” on their side, America will perish.

This man was well into his 70s, yet when he walked the streets he commanded a presence. He had a big belly under his djellaba, something he was clearly proud of based on his backward lean and hands placed on stomach, and when he came up to a shop the worker immediately jumped out of his seat and offered it. When the man sat, he was offered a tea and accepted. He wore a beard about two feet long, straggly and gray, and mumbled to himself. When he came into the shop I was sitting in, my host immediately stood up and offered his chair. When the man took a seat he looked at me and said something in French. Before I could explain I didn’t speak French the man began speaking in very broken English. We established I was a college student from America studying in Berlin. A brief moment of silence and he asked me in broken English, “why are there so many problems with money in America? No more money?” I assumed he meant the most recent banking, housing, and credit crisis. I wanted to ask him if he was serious–the chances of getting across the concept of liquidity shortfall in the US banking system, irresponsible credit and housing loans, among the host of Wall Street’s issues seemed, at the time, comical. I started to say that Americans gave out too much money to too many people who could not pay it, but he cut me off and said, “it’s greed.” When I continued he stopped me short again and said “no, it is greed. Money, money, money. Why always money?”

I soon realized his questions were rhetorical. He plowed through to the next question–”and two wars? Saddam was a bad man, but Bush is worse. Why not hang Bush like Saddam? He killed more with less reasons.” It was so anti-American and Western I didn’t know how to react. Do I walk out? Ask why he thinks this? Ask the others in the circle sipping tea why they nod their heads in agreement? But then I thought of Gregg Mortenson and his mission to bring schools to the outermost borders of Muslim countries. His encounters with Muslims from Sunni to Shiite, cleric to baker and fatwa to family all brought it home to me. I was simply hearing the majority opinion. If you have ever heard of Gregg Mortenson, or read his book Three Cups of Tea, you know this view of America is fairly mainstream among the Muslim population. I just never expected to hear it from the local shop keeper who depends largely on American tourism.

I know I cut that short but it’s 1 in the morning and I have to be up before 8. Will post incrementally more on Marrakech and the stories from. A bit much to write in one sitting.

Via | TravelPod

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