Not All Rainbows & Sunshine

Today I fell victim to an ugly truth that is far too common amongst Moroccans and people living within developing countries.  It was quite a whirlwind of a day.  The boys had two parties at school, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, to celebrate Carnival and to kick off a two-week spring break.  Since they still take afternoon naps, they typically do not return to school after lunch.  However, this was a special day, and their teachers kindly insisted that they attend both parties which they had been working towards for weeks.

I picked the boys up from the morning events where they evidently paraded around the school in their hand-made elaborate hats.  Come to find out, parents were invited to this event, but I sadly lost that bit of information in the translation and found my kids to be some of the last ones waiting to be picked up.  The other kids went to lunch with their parents, and I had missed the parade.  Being the sensitive one, my eyes instantly teared up as the teachers explained what happened.  Although I wasn't quite sure why they were asked to wear costumes in the afternoon, I played along.  I was determined to make it up to the kids as I dressed them in their superhero costumes (PJs) and let them miss their afternoon naps for round two of the festivities.  The kids headed back to school after lunch, and I promised the boys that I would be there for their afternoon party.

I got my hair cut and returned home to pack my purse with my nice camera and enough money to pay for the boys school that month.  On this day the streets seemed more empty than usual, but I didn't think much of it.  As I walked the familiar path I take several times a day, I was completely taken off guard as three teenage boys surrounded me in what I would consider one of the safest places in our neighborhood.  I saw them walking towards me and thought absolutely nothing about it...no gut feeling, no sense of danger.  My first reaction wasn't even fear but more confusion as to what was going on.  They were all speaking at once, and I still cannot tell you if they were speaking French, Darija, or a mixture of the two, but I clearly understood the word telephone.

As soon as I widened my eyes in disbelief that I was being robbed, one of them pulled a large machete knife from his side and held it up to my neck.  I have never been filled with pure fear like I was at that moment.  As I pleaded with them by saying "Oui" over and over as fast as I could, I dug through my purse to find my phone, which of course had fallen into my bottomless pit.  I would have thrown the purse for them to take had it not been a messenger style bag that was strapped around me and under my jacket.  I had just purchased this purse the previous month because it was inexpensive and seemed safer than a purse that could be snatched off of my arm.

I was aware that petty theft was a huge problem and was now experiencing it for myself.  These young men ran away with only 200 dirham but left me forever changed.  Thankfully, a man rounded the corner and scared them away before they hurt me or stole the money I had to pay for the boys' school, my large camera, or my wedding ring.  I never carry that much cash, rarely use that camera, and only wear my wedding ring when we go to nice events like we had attended the night before.

As I ran away from the scene I approached another woman with her children and warned her to walk the other direction.  I ran to the nearest doorman at the pharmacy on the corner (less than 20 feet from where I was robbed).  It wasn't until I frantically tried to explain what happened in broken Darija/French that I finally broke down into tears.  One man chased after the young men with no luck.  Two women at the pharmacy consoled me and one even showed me a scar on her arm where she had been cut and robbed.  I have heard many of these stories before, but I truly heard them and sympathized with them today.

It wasn't until later that I realized why the streets were oddly empty.  Everyone was just returning from Friday (the holy day) afternoon prayers.  How horribly ironic.  I'm typically at home with the boys at this time and am not accustomed to seeing the streets without all of the friendly doormen.  These men always greet the kids and I as we pass.  Ironically, I was robbed directly in front of the building where we stop and converse with locals most often.

Now, I was going to be late for my kids' party and had to walk them home on these same streets.   As I continued towards the school, my mind raced and my emotions only became stronger.  Word seemed to spread like wildfire and another door man ran after me to console me, sit me down and bring me water.  I called Jamil, who was in the middle of a conference, and I calmly explained what had just happened over the telephone.  I attempted to pull myself together.  "I was robbed, I'm okay, I'm not hurt".  I would save the details for later.  After all, I did not want to get myself worked up again.  I had an important party to attend!  I wiped my last tear as I entered the school gate and bear hugged my children.

Jamil left the conference early and met me at the party.  We reported the incident to the embassy, and they handled the situation both sympathetically and professionally.  We, however, were left with a bad taste in our mouths and felt pulled between the Moroccans' pride in their hospitality and their country's problem with assault and theft.  All in all, I am thankful to be safe and physically unharmed, but I will never forget the fear that struck to the core of my being.

This post has been sitting in my draft folder for over 5 months now.  I've hesitated to post anything terribly negative about our experience abroad, but who am I kidding?  It's naturally not all rainbows and sunshine in a developing country.  It's also important to say that the same holds true in any area of the world, including the United States.  Although I feel safe for the most part, Morocco has a long way to go to clean up the country and create more possibilities for people to flourish.  Furthermore, it is important to open a conversation and discuss possibilities for a brighter future.  With that being said, let's not judge these young men but rather think about how things could be different for people less fortunate than ourselves.... and by all means, please still come visit us in Morocco! ;)

I'll leave you with these precious photos of the boys.  Thankfully I was able to attend their party, and thankfully I had a camera to capture these moments.