Category: Moroccan Musings

Rosie had subdued her dress and covered her exposed elbows in order to blend in more and as a sign of respect to this new country she was visiting.  In so doing, Rosie had conceded, and, now like every other woman here in this country, Rosie was invisible.

As soon as Rosie stepped out of the taxi from the airport into the bustling, dusty, beige square in Fes, Morocco, I didn’t feel comfortable.