Tanger, Morocco. 2023.
Of course, there are the souks, the men in djellabas and the camels in the middle of the desert.
But there's more.
There are the veiled women, the warm November sun burning your shoulders and the flavours of first times.
The first time on the African continent.
The first time in a Muslim country. As a woman. Alone.
The first time on the African continent.
The first time in a Muslim country. As a woman. Alone.
There's the currency exchange you hadn't thought about and the blank look on your face when someone asks for dirhams.
There's the reassuring symmetric perfection of the iwans, with their arches and mouldings,
the sun-golden skin
and the towering minarets.
the sun-golden skin
and the towering minarets.
There are the narrow alleyways of the Medina where you get lost
— and this time, Google Maps won't to save you —,
the kids running in the shade,
the zelliges,
the stray cats curled up in the sun,
the colourful storefronts
and the long stone staircases you have to climb to be rewarded with an iced tea in the sun on a rooftop terrace overlooking the city.
— and this time, Google Maps won't to save you —,
the kids running in the shade,
the zelliges,
the stray cats curled up in the sun,
the colourful storefronts
and the long stone staircases you have to climb to be rewarded with an iced tea in the sun on a rooftop terrace overlooking the city.
There are the shop signs advertising "gofres" or "grillades de viende" in dubious French,
your smile first,
then the discomfort of realizing your language is imposed more than adopted,
and finally that deeply uncomfortable feeling of being a coloniser.
your smile first,
then the discomfort of realizing your language is imposed more than adopted,
and finally that deeply uncomfortable feeling of being a coloniser.
There's the socco and its smell of spices,
the rattling carts over uneven cobblestones,
the weathered hands
and the men's eyes on your body like on a piece of meat.
the rattling carts over uneven cobblestones,
the weathered hands
and the men's eyes on your body like on a piece of meat.
There are these differences.
But above all, there are the bridges we always manage to build between them.
Nothing in this photo screams "Morocco". And yet it was taken on the Corniche Merkala in Tangier, from where you can almost see Europe. Here, beyond the differences, cultures fuse.