I remember my time in Africa....isn't that what Karen Blixin (Meryl Streep) said in that movie? No, wait, it was something about a farm. Oh well, either way I remember some of my times in Africa having ventured to Egypt, South Africa, Zimbabwe and Botswana over the years. But a recent story about Morocco convicting some men for being gay caught my eye and reminded of the time I went to Morocco.
It was the winter of 2004 and I had found the trip online as part of some package deal that seemed to good to pass up. I knew vague things of the country gleaned from stories, movies and a few books I'd seen or read over the years. I mean it's the place of Casablanca, Tangiers, Fes and Marrakech--places of exotic mystery portrayed as towns adventurers journey to and from on their exciting hunts for treasure and lost civilizations. So why not go.
The trip started with a ridiculous tarmac delay in JFK where we sat for over an hour waiting to de-plane and I barely made my connection from New York to Casablanca, though my luggage did not. I spent the first three days in Morocco wearing the same clothes, but did manage to haggle down the cost of some socks and underwear in a tiny crowded outdoor market in Casablanca. It wasn't until I reached Fes that my tour guide got word my luggage had somehow made it to the tiny airport their so suffered through a one hour $40 round trip cab ride with a gentlemen who spoke zero English to retrieve my bag. While I was happy to see it, I was still miffed that it looked like it had been looked through multiple times and was missing a belt, a couple shirts and a hat--I'm guessing they didn't need pants to complete their outfit so there was that at least.
By the time I got back to the hotel, cleaned up and put on fresh clothes it was getting dark outside but I felt re-energized and wanted to get out and walk the city a bit even though we had been told to stick close by. It's something I have a habit of doing in foreign countries--wandering the streets at all hours with my camera. Usually in European countries I can get away with this by blending my pasty whiteness in, but in Morocco, not so much. I headed back down to the main drag to check out the sights. After popping in to a small place and having what was the Moroccan version of pizza I decided to walk the main promenade which ran down the center of the town. It had a paved walkway, benches to sit on and rows of palm trees.
I was just then getting into photography with my brand new tiny Kodak digital camera and decided to take a seat and see if I could get a good picture of a palm tree at night. Sadly this was best I could do
Fortunately I would later learn about tripods and how to keep camera still for long exposures. While I was sitting there I saw a guy walk past, tall, slim, maybe thirty-ish? He had slicked back black hair and one of those thin black mustaches that looked like it was drawn in with a pencil. Then he walked back by me again, and then again. By now I could tell he was trying to catch my eye and I thought really? Right here in downtown Fes, the capital of Morocco some dude's trying to cruise me. I did all I could to not look at him but he seemed unperturbed and eventually walked up to me and said "Tourist?" I said yes. Then he paused a moment and said "You like make the sex, no? Is good right?" I think it took me a second before I burst out laughing. A little bit of nerves, maybe, but more the you've got to be kidding me thing. The laugh didn't make him run away he just kind of stood there awaiting an answer. I composed myself and was like, "uh, no, thank you." He just sort of looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and walked away.
Morocco is a Muslim country and homosexuality is generally frowned upon and there are laws against it. Usually the laws are not enforced when things are kept undercover so to speak. So for him to be so brazen seemed a big risk. I'm guessing because I was a single tourist male I stood out. I mean if you read the stories of Paul Bowles and William S. Burroughs they had some interesting times in Morocco but that was mostly in Tangiers which is on the coast and short ferry ride from Spain. This was Fes, did folks really come here to for sex?
I decided to head back to the hotel and had not walked more than 20 feet down the lane with I saw a guy cut across from the other side heading in my direction. I think the first thing that went through my mind was ugh, seriously, again? And lo and behold he walked up beside me and just kind of nodded his head. I nodded back. I'm guessing he didn't speak any English as he didn't say anything, he just kept matching my stride. I stopped and looked at him and said no while shaking my head. He gave me one of those sure looks and I just kept shaking my head no so he just turned and went the other way. Lest I think my night is over, I was a few blocks from the hotel when someone grabbed my arm from behind. Living in the city, reflexively I jerked back and turned with my fists up and there was some young guy looking at me smiling. He had to be in the 18-20's range. He looked at me and asked "parlez-vous francais?" I was like, no English. He just said ah, pointed at himself and said "no English." Then he started to try and signal with his hands and pointed at himself and said what I believe was his name. Then he starts pointing at me then at him and then in another direction and it takes me a moment to realize he's trying to say me and him go somewhere. I give him sort of a quizzical look and he starts pointing at me and him again and then pressing his hands together and says "sex yes." Again my reflex action was to start laughing while shaking my head saying no, no, no. I started to walk away and he jumped in front of me and gave me one of those kind of pleading looks like really. I was still kind of laughing and said "no I have to go" even though he probably didn't understand, and I kept walking back to the hotel.
It was one of those weird kind of nights as I hadn't been cruised that much in one night in like forever. Of course you are probably thinking, you were single and on vacation why not just go for it. And I say while the men weren't unattractive, I wasn't really interested. Plus in the back of my mind was the thought that I'm a skinny white dude in a foreign Muslim country with very little cash on hand and for some reason I think they may have wanted some kind of payment for services from this foreign visitor to their country. Which kind of led me to believe it probably goes on more often than not if they were so forward as to just approach strangers on the street without fear of reprisal. I was moderately intrigued and asked the tour guide about such things and he kind of looked around and said in a lowered voice that some areas of towns have areas that men meet and that while it's forbidden by law, things that are kept secret are usually ignored or looked over. Yes it goes on, but they just basically pretend it doesn't.
That's why it was interesting to see that story headline and when you read it you find out one of the boys fathers found out about them and turned them in thinking it was the other boys who corrupted his son. It's funny what one's own ignorance can blind one to. If nothing else it reminded me of my time in Morocco and one of the interesting travel stories I can share with folks to show when you travel you find out folks around the world are more alike than people think they are. Oh and, you know, the gays are everywhere!
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