The Only Con in Marrakech...

Two, clearly lost, tourists in the Medina

It’s amazing how different a city looks at night versus during the day. When we had entered the restaurant Marrakech, the labyrinth of passageways knows as the Medina were bathed in the light of the early evening African sun. But now it was night. The shopkeepers had closed their stalls, put away their wares, and left nothing but the moonlight to lead our way.  It was as if we had left one city and gone to another over the course of diner. 

Naturally, Doina, Svetlana, and I did what one does in these civilized times: fired up our cellphones.  However, other than providing a small amount of light in the dark alleyways, these devices are largely useless.  Other than getting you more lost than you were already, they let every local know that you are an ignorant tourist ripe for the picking!

It’s a maze…

We walked aimlessly, but always believing we knew where we were, for about 15 minutes.  We came to an intersection of four alleys and there, conveniently, was a young man on a moped with his wife and child.  He immediately told us we were going the wrong way, then asked us where we were going.  Think about that for a moment.

The scam, of course, is that a charming stranger tells you you are lost, then takes you where you want to go (usually by a ridiculously complex and unnecessary route) for a fee.  I for one thought this con was brilliant, and was happy to pay him 200 dirhams for his time. After all, he could have delivered us into the loving arms of Al-Qaeda militants instead of taking us back to our rented riad. My traveling companion Doina, on the other had, was furious (mostly because the casually-sexist conman only wanted to exchange money with me). 

A few days later, Doina and I went to “Kabana” which is the trendiest rooftop bar and restaurant in Marrakech.  After cocktails, dinner, and singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a young Brazilian woman at the insistence of her chain-smoking Portuguese boyfriend; it was time to go home.  Being the weekend, even though it was late, the streets were full of people. This of course meant that we would be told repeatedly that we were going the 'wrong way' and that certain directions were closed or 'forbidden' by countless ‘Good Samaritans’.

I could tell Doina was still…annoyed…about the last time this happened. So, for her comfort, I quickly come up with a cunning plan to avoid the evenings con artists.  First, I had Doina get her phone ready with directions, put an earbud in her ear, then put the mobile in her purse. Under no circumstances was she to take out her phone. Second, and this is the really important part: we were to act like we had been living in Marrakech for forty years instead of four days.

It is shocking how well this worked. Once you start “walking casually”, in other words not looking at your phone with eyes darting towards landmarks, people assume you know where you are going and aren't worth attempting to con 200 dirhams out of.  I kid you not, not a single person bothered us on our 30 minute walk home.  The change in behavior with nothing more than relaxed body language, and no phones in our hands, was incredible.

If, however, you cannot help yourself and insist on looking like a lost tourist in Morocco, I have one more tip. When someone comes up and asks “Where are you going?”, have a 5’4” Moldovan woman with a scowl that could turn a man’s heart to stone say “HOME!!!!” in an extremely aggressive manner.  I assure you they will leave you alone.