11/13/2023 Bikepacking Morocco Day 97 : White Wraps

I decided to take today off. Partly because I am waiting for the Bivy stick to arrive, and partly because I needed to do a little emotional reset after yesterday. I felt good and happy about Morocco again after a rest and some solitude. I read other people’s travel blogs and friends’ Stravas and got excited about traveling again. Clear sunny mornings are good, like a fresh start for the soul…

This afternoon I went to get groceries and was called over to chat with a ~30 year old named “Zack.” He was just sitting on a patio, and roped me into a conversation about rock climbing; a popular tourist activity in this gorge. His English was good, so I sat with him for a while - a little warily, always having to decide with whom to invest time. A conversation with a friendly local is a very positive experience… but it can also just be a fake out to lure you into some trickery. If it is the later, then you know that part or all of your conversation wasn’t sincere. We talked rock climbing and of his dreams to go to the USA. “It is hard to go to the United States on a visa. It is easier to marry an American woman,” he said. I momentarily pondered how I could help him here.

Several women were picking up sacks behind me, and he pointed out the white wraps the women wore around their bodies. That means they are married. “It’s easy to tell!” He happily joked. Right at that moment, a young woman sans-white-wrap came and sat down beside us. We said “السلام عليكم” to each other, and then they quickly spoke between themselves in Darija, the Moroccan dialect of Arabic. He then said to me, “See, she is not wearing the white! She is looking for an American husband. Are you married?” I explained that I was, and he laughed. Overall, it was a jovial exchange, and I enjoyed his company for over 45 minutes. He said he wants to go on a bike tour with me, so I invited him to ride tomorrow. “No, next time you come to Morocco, we will go together.” The woman eventually left the table to go sing in the kitchen and live another day free of white-wrap.

According to the Koran, Muslim men are allowed to marry non-Muslim women as long as their brides are “People of the Book” — Christians or Jews, both of whom recognize Abraham as their spiritual forefather, as Muslims do. A Muslim woman, however, cannot marry a non-Muslim man unless he converts.

Quite the double standard.

Online, I also read about a movement where men would wear the hijab to be in solidarity with women who are forced to do so (i.e. Iran). In Morocco, law does not require women to wear Hijab, but almost all women I see do. 🧕

When I see people, I don’t automatically know if they identify as Berber (Amazig) or Arab. The majority of the people I have talked to have called themselves Berber. Clearly, there isn’t homogeneity within these groups, let alone between them. The main unifying factor might be Islam, but that seems to have diverse interpretations on how strictly it is followed in each region I visit. I’ve wondered about my interactions with women; you will notice I have only talked to a few. Contrary to my expectations leading up to this trip, though, women walking on the side of the road will almost always acknowledge me with a wave. Usually a smile, and sometimes a “السلام عليكم”. I imagined it would be more of the downturned eyes and scurrying away like I saw in some places in the North.

That’s it for today!