Marrakech

Morocco, February 2014

That time … I learned about privilege

During my Morocco tour, our tour guide once mentioned “the only women in nightclubs are tourists or prostitutes”. It was such a strange comment that everyone laughed. Little did we know he was not joking.

On our last night together, we landed in Marrakech. The city with the great market, it was a market filled with beautiful lamps, mosaic crafts, and colourful tagines. I don’t like to buy souvenirs unless it’s consumable. But, I don’t mind wasting spending money on carnival games. The game I played involved two 2L size coke bottles and a fishing pole, if I can get the ring that looks seemingly like it would fit around the neck of the bottle then I win – that bottle of coke! Of course I didn’t.

We decided on a night out at a discotheque. Of course the club we ended up played the best of the 80s /90s pop and karaoke. When the am arrived, I noticed one of my friends left for the bathroom for a very long time. So I went to check on her. The bathroom of this club had two stalls, and one of doors had two large men surrounding it. I yelled “Jenny [alias]!”, and her voice came from that very stall. She sounded panicked and when I approach the crowd, the door opened and what transpired next was forever etched in my memory. The two men manhandled another women from Jenny’s stall and rush out the door. When I asked Jenny what happened, she told me when she was about to close the door the girl force herself in and would not stop crying. I later found out she was sex worker and the two men were her handlers. It was my first realization of what privilege means – freedom.

6_image
I really wanted a bottle of coke!
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s