Subject:   [adventure!] speculation

Date:   1/7/2004 1:54:29 PM

 

 

 

 

So, I need to say a couple of things about Morocco with my hindsight glasses

on. Just let me put on these rose-coloured side mirrors ... ahh, perfect.

 

One thing I´ve noticed, even after only a couple of weeks of travelling, is

that I really want a hug. First I should say this isn´t a

gimme-some-sympathy email. I may eventually get to some kind of point.

 

So, I´ve been whining to you about the poor hygiene standards in Morocco,

like an annoyingly Western please-seal-my-food-in-plastic kind of traveller.

I´m sure you´ve all loved hearing me complain. What I found interesting,

and surprising, is that people in Morocco don´t seem to be sick nearly as

often as you might think, given the amount of germ-exchanging that goes on.

 

The germ-exchanging process involves things like handling meat, money,

bread, and everything else with the same hands used to blow your nose and

´wipe´ (with water - Moroccan people don´t use kleenex or toilet paper).

There´s also no soap in any of the bathrooms, which doesn´t seem to matter

because noone seems to use the sinks.

 

But the other method of germ-exchanging, the one that is relevant to this

email, is general human touch. If you didn´t know better when you arrived

in Morocco, you´d think it was the gay capital of the world. The men walk

around holding hands, and it´s not uncommon to see two guys sensually

holding and kissing eachother´s faces. And there´s tons of hugging. Among

women it´s less flamboyant, but there is still a lot of physical contact.

Interestingly, you will almost never see any contact between men and women.

 

I mentioned in an earlier email that I had a cold. I got sick 3 weeks ago

today and this cold is still lingering. I have been blaming it on the

Moroccan hygiene and the call to prayer that kept waking me up.

 

I´m reading a book right now called ´Much depends on Dinner´ by Margaret

Visser. It´s a very good (if a little dense) explanation of the history,

sociology and mythology behind different food items. One of these items

(the chapter I was reading a couple of nights ago) is about chickens. She

talks about the first chickens to be domesticated, cock-fighting, the role

of hens and roosters in ancient cultures, etc. She also talks about factory

farming, and at one point mentions the research that finds a relationship

between stress and the immune systems of chickens. In the study, people

yelled at some chickens and subjected them to various stressors, and they

treated some other chickens nicely, singing to them and petting them. As

you have already guessed, the chickens who were petted had increased

resistance to infections.

 

The chicken research is old (the book was published in the mid-80´s, and the

research was probably not new then), and it´s been explored in various ways

with humans since then. But it was interesting to think about that in the

context of Morocco. Here you have people living in conditions that should

you might think would result in plenty of illness, but (as far as I could

tell) the people are no more sick than in North America.

 

In North America, we´ve got super-ridiculous hygiene, and every kid learns

about germs, etc., but what we don´t have is nearly as much human contact.

I mean, you can hug your friends, but the kind of greetings you see in

Morocco would be considered very strange behaviour at home.

 

Being in beautiful Morocco, with it´s friendly people and fertile soil, you

just can´t help but think that the main thing lacking is their education

system. But maybe if we´re going to teach Moroccan children to wash their

hands, we should teach North American kids to hug eachother. We´d all be

better off.

 

I´m in Spain now, where you can find people (couples) groping eachother

anywhere you look. They´re very touchy people here. Of course, everyone in

Spain is required to chain-smoke, so they better get as much human contact

as possible.

 

One more thing to tell you about Morocco is that there appears to be almost

zero crime. I´m not sure whether it´s got to do with the fact that there

are 5 daily reminders that their god is watching them, or whether it´s that

the sheer amount of hashish keeps people from acting up, but something makes

these people extremely peaceful.

 

Sorry this is such a long email, but I have to tell you two things about my

return to Spain last night.

 

First, the border between Spain and Morocco (in Africa between the Spanish

settlement of Cueta and the Moroccan town of Fnideq) is a very strange

sight. Basically it´s a muddy road with some booths, fences, lots of cops,

and tons of razor wire.