Morocco – intense. Motorcycles, bicycles, donkeys pulling carts. A lot of men. Older woman and children. All the women in between are …? Working? At home? I don’t know.
It is a feast for the eyes. Buildings, alley ways, colors. Tile work. Intricate. Hand carved, hand shaped. Gorgeous. Im in total culture shock. Everything twists and turns. Narrow walkways turn into bustling streets. Vendors call you princess and want to charge you like you are one.
Not to mention how much cat calling I’ve experienced. Gotta put my poker face on. Toughen up and not make eye contact. Ignore ignore. Ugh. Exhausting.
Couscous and mint tea. The best I’ve ever experienced.
People are upset if you try and take a photo. Must smile, give them money first and then ask if you can. Otherwise you get the finger, cursing and negative vibes. You otherwise need to be a ninja and click from the hip. It is hard to do and ends up with many a blurry image. Makes me want to work harder to know the people I am photographing. I’m sure they experience this everyday. Foreigners coming and in and taking their essence away to be share with the world but not them. I would want to be paid too. Not to mention how exhausting it might be. Photography can be a gift. It can heal the soul, inspire the mind and make the poor feel wealthy. Used improperly and it can do just the opposite.

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