The Trials of an American Dilettante

Thursday, November 17, 2005

More Royal Than the King

Like most stupid Americans, my concept of Morocco was a large marketplace filled with Arab men in fezes trying to sell me crap while the monkey on their shoulder screached and a little boy picked my pocket.

Well, I've only seen maybe five fezes, three monkeys, zero pickpockets and the sales preasure is way below that of an Egyptian of a Vietnamese (Allah willing).

These Berbers though fit the mold better. While only half of the Arab women even wear head covering, all Berber women do. Arab women, if they do wear them, don't seem to start until maybe 14. The Berbers have toddlers covered.

Berbers also seem to hassel people more. Maybe its because they are poorer or maybe its because you're an isolated target in their small village. They also live in the dessert, ride camels and are very dark. Whatever-the-case, they seem more Moroccan than Moroccan just as the Afghans are more Muslim than Muslim and Worf is more Klingon than Klingon.

Arabs, being the vast majority, are free to do as they please while Berbers, being isolated, need to act their role. Like an only son with the obligation to carry on the family name, the Berber must be hardcore. Either that or they don't know better.

(On a side note, there are things worse than working at McDonalds or being a Jizz mopper. Tanning leather is the worst job ever, I've decided.)

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