But You, Sir, Will Always Be An Asshole!

Marrakech is a rapidly modernising city. Everywhere you look there are new hotels and resorts being built. In the western world this consitutes progress, anyway. The kind of mentality needed to accept the exponential growth that is taking place here is also, I am happy to report, easily visible; women in jeans and t-shirts listening to headphones walk side by side women covered from head to toe in some sort of cloth with only their eyes visible. Expression is accepted, within reason, and everyone seems to be getting along.
There is one taboo, at least, which is still incredibly present and is unfortunately one which I not only embody but seem to present like a flashing neon light. Being a woman and alone is cause for looks, stares, cat-calls, whistles, hisses, and chat-up lines by everyone and anyone who feels so inclined. I am not one who likes to be the centre of attention but to ALWAYS the focal point of misguided glances while doing EVERYTHING that one does is, to say the least, a little bit daunting.
And so I say nothing. "Ca va?" Nothing. "You are racist?" Nothing. "You want to have sex with me?" Nothing. "You are alone?" Nothing. "Why do you not smile?" Nothing.
By these tauntings, I am not treated as a person and so I do not give the satisfaction of acknowledging these remarks as though they were made by people. Instead, I think of them as coming from a sort of vacuous darkness which is the armpit of humanity and which I have no desire to be a part of.
This does not mean it is easy or I am not, from time to time upset by these addresses. I had the occassion to speak with Madame Fatima, a woman who comes to the orphanage every morning to work with the girls. She is very small, pious, and soft-spoken. She has a very caring heart and is very happy to try listen and answer my questions. In a moment of weakness and in search of human connection, which thus far has been rare, I told her about my experiences with Moroccan men and how I find it frustrating and disheartening. In a very sweet and gentle way she said, and I paraphrase for my purposes in English, that there are assholes everywhere. Assholes exist and you can only ignore them and get on with your life. She is right. And I have let go of the rage, allowing it, too, to be sucked into the vacuous darkness of the human darkside from whence it came.
They can not take what I do not let them. They, unfortunately for them, will have to live with themselves, with their masogyny, arrogance, and assholeness. I will continue to be me, walking head high, alone, perspiring, to help those I came to help, and finding else where the purest examples of dignity and humanity.