You might - or might not - be interested to know that during my four trips to Marrakech, one of them was alone. On that occasion I was approached twice (that I know of) by separate young Moroccan men who were obviously willing to grant me certain pleasures, if that was my thing. Fortunately for them, my sexual preferences are rather traditional, and I politely tried to let them know I was neither lonely nor gay or in the market for a holiday fling. The most interesting approach was by a young, handsome and well-dressed man of about 22. While I was lazily watching the world go by sitting on the steps of the fountain outside Guilez' main tourist information office, he eyed me up. It was about 9pm but the streets were busy with cars and the sidewalks flooded with tourists and locals enjoying a pleasant summer evening. As I made a point of looking elsewhere, trying hard to keep my vision from wandering back anywhere in his direction, he repositioned himself a few feet from me and proceeded to talk to me quietly in French: "Bonjour Monsieur,
something something something." Not understanding the last bit, and wishing to dispense with his attentions quickly, I answered in English: "Sorry, I don't speak French." I followed this with a polite but firm smile which was meant to convey a sort of 'I know you are friendly, but I'd rather be left alone thank you very much' impression. His quiet persistance continued however, this time in beautifully polished English: "Excuse me" he ventured, "I'm gay." Quick as a flash (I was rather pleased with myself) I replied: "That's nice, but I'm afraid I'm not." With cool composure, my new friend shrugged his shoulders expansively and smiled graciously, the same soft voice coming back at me: "Bon chance" he muttered and calmly sautered off in search of a new friend. Anyway, the point of all this is both to relate to you an interesting experience on the streets of the Red City and lead you towards comments made about 'Gay & lesbian Marrakech' I later found in the guidebook
Footprint. I find the attitudes to sex and gender in a moderate Muslim country like Morocco fascinating - although thus far my impressions have been mostly gathered from a limited amount of people-watching, a few paragraphs in guide books like the one below, and a conversation with a Moroccan professor of English. (I might add that my conversation with him stemmed from our separately noticing prostitutes in the bar of the hotel I was staying at. It appears they are a semi-permanent but quiet feature of that particular 2-star Marrakech landscape. More about this in a later post):
'The very mention of the Red City may bring tears to the eyes of European gentlemen of a certain generation as they remember dear Mustapha, December 1965. Things have moved along a little since. Mass tourism is arriving – but not the rainbow flag. Despite awareness of ‘gay identity’ among some young Moroccans thanks to satellite TV and the web, plus an influx of gentrifying A-gays, Marrakech remains a provincial sort of place. Apart from emigrating or moving up to Casablanca, the local gay guy has few options: discreet relationships, probably followed by marriage after 30; or, possibly, total flailing queendom. Winter sun notwithstanding, this is not Miami or Mykonos. It follows that there is nowhere that can really be labelled as gay or lesbian in Marrakech – nor would businesses appreciate the label. Still, the city has masses to satisfy the gay sensibility (as specified by the clichés): boutiquey places stuffed with bijou bits and pieces, guest houses like oriental design shrines and a lot of handsome faces.
The gay visitor to Marrakech should remember that this is a city with a huge social divide. [...][continued here:
http://www.footprintguides.com/Marrakech/Gay-and-Lesbian.php ]
