Manual IT HAPPENED IN CASABLANCA: My Schoolboy Story

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The women and children in the streets started disappearing, and were replaced by increasingly aggressive men demanding to take us to the tanneries. I take you! We started to feel lost: our phone that we kept trying to avoid looking at said we were headed the right way, but could this be it? It seemed right, but this was not a tourist area. There were no other obvious tourists in site.

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We were relieved to be free of him, but we were now unescorted marks: enter Orange-Hands-Guy from the left. Orange-Hands-Guy was smoother than the others. He kept pace with us. But what happens when they follow you? If we stopped, he stopped. No money! We should have turned back, frankly. Turned back and just considered the whole thing a loss. Stupid, stupid, stupid. We know this game. We know to always agree on a price first.

Believe me, this was not the type of shop to have a sign with the cost of a tour. Specter-Guy walked us through two tanneries: the Berber tannery and the Arabic tannery. They were interesting, and the smell was not as bad as people profess it to be we gave up on the mint after a couple of minutes.

Because, who was waiting for us on this narrow and deserted side street? But seeing him waiting there sent a chill up my spine: this was a very organized group. Orange-Hands-Guy on one side, Specter-Guy on the other. Fine… We were irritated, but at that point, we just wanted out of there.

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Now, I would like to draw a careful picture: we were extremely isolated on this small road. No other tourists were nearby.


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There was us, Orange-Hands Guy, Specter-Guy, and a few other tannery buddies milling around in the background. Our options were limited: we could follow him on the correct path per Google maps. We could walk past Specter-Guy, past the tanneries and other tannery workers, and try to go back the way we came. Or, we could go down another side street that was even more isolated. We walked in the correct direction, Orange-Hands-Guy shadowing us. No, thank you. Non, merci. La, shokran.

So, off we went: us trying to shake him, him refusing to let us go. Should we make a scene? Should we go back? But, we could see palm trees and manicured grass through the gate, and there are many gardens in Marrakech. We were completely alone. We refused. Poor people. Help poor people. He help you. It worked… sort of. They stepped back, and we started power walking back the way we came. We dove into the first taxi we found and agreed on a price first and hurried back to Jemaa el-Fnaa, back to the tourists, back to safety.

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Our adrenaline was still high, but we were able to take a few deep breaths in the car: it was over. This was in the middle of the day, the monetary amount was small, and while intimidation was the name of the game, were we in any real physical danger? Were those men going to mug us? I reflected seriously on these events after they happened, and can divide my reaction into three sections: growth, indignation, and empathy. I must admit, I am still somewhat indignant: these men stole from us through intimidation.

They intentionally made us feel unsafe and threatened to get our money, and it kind of worked. It stings to be swindled, regardless of the monetary amount. But their attempts to guilt us aside, these really are poor people. All I can do is hope that while these people were cruel to us, that they are decent people within their communities who used the money well. The tour was interesting enough, but it was not fascinating. William Irving. Heinie Conklin. Bertha Mann. Sister Libertine.

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Vince Barnett. Fred Zinnemann. Universal Pictures Corp. Lewis Milestone. Nate Watt. George Cukor. Carl Laemmle. Carl Laemmle Jr. Maxwell Anderson. George Abbott. Del Andrews. Gardner Sullivan. Arthur Edeson. Frank H. Charles D. Maurice Pivar. Edgar Adams. Milton Carruth. David Broekman. Roy Hunter. William W. He had no children in either of the first two marriages, but he treats late wife number one as a kind of saint that no one can measure up to.