On my family’s big Europe trip this Christmas we made sure to get down for a day trip to Morocco. My family is big on saying “been there” about places even if it’s not much time. My pops was contemplating the three hour round-trip from Seville just to touch Portuguese soil... classic Gary. In continuing with the “been there” them, we went down to the tip of Southern Spain, and one day we took the ferry across to Morocco. Our destination was Tangier, a half hour ferry ride from Spain.
The excitement started right away, the catamaran ferry was bouncing around like a sea-doo in a big ships wake. The windows were soaked, people were bouncing around like lottery balls. Unfortunately, my dad got very very sea sick... claaaaaassic Gary. He’s ok now.
We docked in Tangier and got hooked up with our tour guide, and we were on our way. Because Morocco was constantly a European possession not too long ago, it looks very European. Tangier has wide streets, typical Spanish architecture, and cafes, bakeries, and shops (but not all of it). What made it feel different was seeing people in traditional Muslim dress, as well as the organized chaos at intersections and crosswalks between vehicles and pedestrians.
We drove through the new city, the European looking area, and then we did the walking tour through the Kasbah and Medina, the old part of the city. This was the best part of the tour, the part that looked Islamic, and the part that made you feel like you were far from home. It was tight walkways for streets, constant stairs, and people wandering everywhere, traditional oven rooms beside convenience stands. And people trying to sell you anything and everything.
The haggling was entertaining for the most part. I had mixed feelings when it was with kids though. There were quite a few kids that looked 12 or under trying the sell you stuff or just straight up begging. Do you give them money? Do you buy the junk they’re trying to sell? If you do either, do they go buy food? Does the money go to their family? Or does the person making them do it just take their coins and send them somewhere else? All of these questions raced through my mind. I would like to think the kid runs to the bakery and buys bread, but I’m pretty sceptical of that, especially after watching Slumdog Millionaire.
I’ve never been to a developing country, so it’s a bit shocking to see some young kids not in school, and working on the street selling shite out of a plastic bag, or in a cramped souk. A kid I tutor’s younger brother goes to school, plays basketball, probably runs around with other kids lucky enough to live in a developed country. He’s 10, probably a bit younger than the kid I haggled with for a Real Madrid shirt. This kid was probably 12 or so, and after chatting with his older brother and him, I got a knock off jersey for 10 euros. This was about 190 euros less than the “listed price”. Let’s just say their grasp of English hasn’t taught them the difference between 200 and 20. So after I argue about size, the kid tears off running while his bro stayed put in the cramped and unclean little souk.
About 5 minutes later, he comes back panting, smiling a crooked-toothed smile, and carrying a bag with a white shirt it in. I asked him in Spanish, “10 euros right?”
“Yes... And 1 euro for me? One euro! Come on, one euro!” He replied.
Without hesitation I forked out an extra euro, plopped in his dirty, outstretched, little hand; hoping he put it to better use than I would. He smiled and took off. It’s crazy to look a 10 year olds in Almeria, or at the school I work at, and know that just a few hours away, kids the same age are wandering the street carrying plastic bags with crap toys in them, in hopes that tourists will pay just one or two Euros for them.
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