Last year, I attended a conference by the great Steve McCurry, brilliant National Geographic photographer behind a million well-known images, the famous "Afghan Girl" portrait at the top of that list. He mentioned that, of all the countries he has been to in his life, Morocco is the place where he found the people to be the most hostile towards cameras, and Marrakech even more so than the rest of the country. I may not travel as much as he does but so far, I second that statement without hesitation.
It doesn't take long to find out that most Moroccans don't like to have their picture
taken. You see, many muslims believe that if a photograph of them is taken, the image maker has stolen their soul. They see photographers coming a mile away, no matter how sneaky they try to be with their camera. My skin got a little thicker as
the days went by but I was still veeeeery careful of what I point my camera
at. Some people were friendly about it but others refused to even have inanimate objects around them photographed. I learned how to respectfully keep doing my thing without making anyone angry. For the most part, that is.
In Marrakech though, in addition to worrying about not offending anyone's spiritual beliefs, you constantly have to watch out for motorbikes speeding by, bicycles rolling way faster than any bicycle should, donkeys and horses carrying a ton of stuff, blocking the whole narrow street and literally pushing you against the wall with their heavy loads; you cannot let your guard down for half a second. It's thrilling, but it's not relaxing.
I have to say, Marrakech kicked our asses a bit. Between the complete lack of orientation (no hotel signs, no street names, no kidding), epic torrential rain pours that the city hadn't seen in ages, the dust and getting trapped in the souks after dark (I don't recommend this, scaaary), we definitely got overwhelmed a couple of times. We had been warned though, and we quickly put our chins up, kept enjoying our adventures and the excitement of exploring such an action-packed city.
If Essaouira has painted its walls creamy white and blues of all kinds, Marrakech has done so in a beautiful shade of orange-pink. There are many pretty and peaceful corners in this crazy city, you just have to brave it all and find them.
