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.
Rosie looked around and felt self conscious. Normally confident and ready to take on the world I felt like I stood out…in a world where nobody stands out and everybody blends in.
I felt too pale, too foreign, to bright…my red TShirt stood out like a beacon in a sea of black and brown. I felt too naked…my arms were bare from the elbows down, my neckline was exposed and I adjusted my shirt as it slipped off my shoulder, my head was also bare where the majority weren’t. Modestly attired I would have been considered in the west….here in this square, in Islamic Morocco, turning around in a circle taking in my surroundings….Rosie felt like the Whore of Babylon.
Back in the day Rosie would have relished standing out from the crowd and being different. Young Rosie would have put her chin in the air and seen it as a challenge. Now, a middle aged Rosie finally sees conformation, in this case, as a sign of respect.
Yes, the debate rages on and Rosie has internalised it aplenty. Why should we have to conform and adapt? Its not my religion and beliefs. I was not bought up that way. In the west we have the gender freedoms to do and say what we want. In the west we can look and dress how we want.
Here it is different, simple, plain and true. Rosie appreciates that, she does not have to agree with it but, as a visitor in a different land Rosie can be respectful and mindful about how she behaves and is perceived.
Lucky it was chilly in Morocco…as Rosie slipped on a loose fitting , black, long sleeved top with a high neck. She felt so much better with only her face and hands naked. Now she was one of the many and didn’t stand out anymore.
Within ten minutes of stepping outside a boy of about ten came up to us and tried to sell us his services as a guide around the city….OK, we are resigned, we are never going to blend in here….at least Rosie can feel better now about trying.
