It was long time ago. Summer in Morocco. Hot and stuffy Marrakesh.
I longed to see the magic of «Arabian nights» fairy tale. Something like pictures in Instagram and Pinterest. But of course I faced the real city – not clean, but really hot. It has some fantastic places as Jardin Majorelle. Well, after all this garden was founded by Yves Saint Laurent.
I wanted to relax and to let myself enjoy everything I saw: markets with spices, tissues and funny local slippers, fresh juice in kiosks, fruits. It is noisy. Somebody always pesters you with sticky complements or trying to sell you something. I felt uncomfortable and I felt free.
In Marrakesh I thought how it is probably great to be open-minded and a bit naive, to trust this world and to do not expect a catch around every corner. It is strange why I had such thoughts in the city, where you need to keep your bag tight and to know how to bargain.
On the main square, jemaa el-Fnaa, where «Arabian night, magical East» (isn’t it about Bagdad by the way?) I wanted to let everything go, to breath out stress and to become a little girl in a fairy tale. During a day it is a normal square where you can buy dried fruits and fresh juice. But at night it is just a mess here. Chaos of tents with streaming food, drummers, fire shows, snakes tamers, acrobats and a joy. Very unusual and a bit scary.
But it turned finally, all this story is not really about me unfortunetly. I am afraid of street food – I do not know how it is made. I am afraid of all these jugglers and beggars. At the same time I want to take it all as it is when I travel: streets, cities, people, traditions and how everything built. In Marrakesh I wanted to watch only, but to do not join, to do not be a part of it. Am I a snob? I still learn to take it easy, to be easy-going. Or maybe it is just not for me.