Tag Archives: Marrakech

I’m proud to call myself a feminist. It doesn’t even need a capital letter … it’s who I am.

Walking through the Medina, the old city of Marrakech is variously fascinating, aromatic and daunting. Probably not daunting if you’re male, but as a female I feel intimidated and scorned. It’s a subtle sense of being looked at with disdain, it’s the occasional sly grope or touch – the sense you are fair game. I wear conservative clothes, covering all flesh bar my face, I walk with confidence with a male companion and I’m open and friendly. Yet there is still a feeling of not being welcome, of being somehow “less”.

Last time I visited the city was during Ramadan and I put the irritability and general discourtesy down to lack of sustenance; who wouldn’t feel a bit “off” if you’re fasting in the hours of daylight … yet this time it’s no better. There’s a worsening of the attitudes of many men toward women and in some cultures, toward Western women in particular. With our freedom and the gall to walk about uncovered like a man, we represent a threat … ?

Women throughout the world still struggle to be seen as the equal of their menfolk, their husbands, sons and cousins.  The situation seems to be getting worse not better and we must not allow this to happen. Witness the harassment women suffer daily in Egypt, the rapes occurring with horrifying frequency in India or the causal barrage of abuse suffered by Rebecca Meredith in a recent debate in Glasgow – just a few examples.

I read that many younger women apparently eschew the term Feminism … WHY?! To be feminist is to stand up for a fundamental right – the right of women to be treated equally. That’s all. You don’t need to adopt the cliched personas of the past (although let us not forget what the women of previous generations have done to give women like us opportunities: they were trampled under horses, fought long and hard for our rights over many years, stood up to society and much, much more … be grateful – not sneering, please.)

Being feminist is simple – there’s no need to be anything other than who you are. We don’t need to emasculate men, we can wear high heels and lipstick (if we want!), we have the freedom to work and compete or to stay at home and nurture a family … we can CHOOSE!!  … at least we can in my country – at the moment. Let’s make sure it stays that way and where possible, support other women who need our help.

I’m proud to call myself a feminist, it doesn’t even need a capital letter – it’s who I am.

Wandering through the Medina in the heart of Marrakech

Wandering through the Medina in the heart of Marrakech

 

After Flandin ….

At La Maison de la Photgraphie is a collection of monochrome images of Morocco, beautifully presented and lovingly protected.  In their own words “[La Maison] is a place where memories are shared, ideas are exchanged and links are forged between people. We showcase original photographs of Morocco from the 1870s right up until the 1950s. It is one of the few places in existence which gives access to the photographic memory of Morocco in all its richness.

I recommend the exhibition to photographers enjoying Marrakech – indeed to anyone interested in historic imagery of this quality.  In some ways it shows that nothing much has changed in the souks and around the mosques, in others just how different the world has become.  The images are timeless and the guides are happy to tell you about the 1,200 glass slides they have in their archives, about the addition of potato starch to the development process to deliver colour images (something I’d never heard before) and they provide background to each of the portraits reproduced in the foyer.  There are mysterious women from the Harem, portraits of slaves, Berbers and images of the souks.  I loved a fascinating portrait which appears to be of a beautiful woman but is in fact a young man. Another is of a slave boy standing against a stone wall – a composite image in which the background has been added, much as we’d do with Photoshop today.  The images were very controversial at the time (early 20th century), as photographers began to play with photography as “art”.

Walking through the souk I tried to recreate some of the drama Flandin captures in his image from 1920 (below mine).  I was shooting discreetly, trying to get the shafts of light streaming through the canopy into the smoky atmosphere.  Today that thick atmosphere is caused by motor bike fumes rather than open fires!  The images was far too dark, it was just a “grab” shot, but some manipulation with Snapseed on my iPad as I flew home last night draws out the atmosphere I hope.

My attempt at capturing the light in the souk inspired by Flandin.

“Dans les Souks, Fez” by M Flandin, 1920

In the Medina ….

Despite my encouragement to others about engaging with people as you travel, I have to report that I found it difficult today. The Medina in Marrakech is busy beyond belief … motorcycles zooming through the crowds, screaming children released from school, tourists wandering like sheep after their guides and traders enjoining you to buy, buy, buy … it’s full-on.

‘Bonjour Monsieur’, a big smile and ‘la, shukran’ (no, thank you) said politely seems to do the trick against the entreaties …. but taking photos here is a challenge for me. More here than in other places I’ve visited. The Moroccan people are mainly very friendly and welcoming but I sense a barely concealed resentment from some stallholders, the younger men particularly. I don’t know whether its because I’m a tourist, a western woman (of a certain age!) with an expensive camera (dressed very modestly I have to report), the current economic situation or recent political events … but I feel vaguely uncomfortable. When I do haggle for a bag, my price is grudgingly accepted and the bag thrust at me with a grimace. But that’s not everyone by any means …

GAnyway, I did take some images this morning – shooting from the hip … plus a few where I asked permission. You can see I found some moments of calm as well …. but I have much to learn and need lots more practice in this delicate task!

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