Humankind(ness)

When you travel for a while, you encounter all manner of people, and I’m sad to say that sometimes those encounters can sour you on humankind.

I’ve always wanted to believe that every person is truly good at heart, but when I look at the state of the world, I know that it’s naïve of me to think that.

While I haven’t encountered any earth-shattering experiences, several days during my first three months of travels were challenging.

people are cruel

In London, I was yelled at by a woman who must’ve assumed that my quick glance at her before looking out the window was somehow a slight to her. She began yelling that I shouldn’t judge someone without knowing them and that I had no idea who she was so I couldn’t judge her. I honestly felt sort of shell-shocked and wanted to start crying on the bus. (Maybe I was overly sensitive on that particular day.)

Then, on my first day in Tangier, I was yelled at by a shop owner who didn’t appreciate my walking past his shop without a second thought. “I’m human, you know! You could at least say something!” And then later that same night, two 13-year-old boys escorted me out of the medina and back to my hotel. When I offered change, they said, “no change” and I thought they were helping me out of the kindness of their own hearts. Only later did I realize that sadly it was greed; change wasn’t enough for their services. When I said, “I have no more money,” one boy shouted “fuck you!” and they took off running.

Feeling jaded and upset by all of these interactions, I was not looking forward to the rest of my trip in Morocco and was eager to seek out a black hole in which to hide for a few days.

Instead, I found a blue light—Chefchaouen.

idris chefchaouen morocco

On a walk one day, a man at a carpet shop invited me in to tell me about the cooperative of Berber people who make the carpets. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Idris and invited me to sit and have a cup of mint tea with him.

He said that he was very appreciative of American people because when he was a child, American soldiers were in Morocco and helped the local people. He came from a poor family and they couldn’t afford food—and he distinctly remembered an American soldier who gave his family food to help them out.

Later, he began to talk about Islam and wanted very much for me to know that it’s a peaceful religion and that there are some people who give it a bad name (which I already knew) and explained that we are all the same—humans with the same genetic base: blood and bones. After teaching me a few words in Arabic and being impressed with my knowledge of the word “inshAllah,” he pointed me in the direction of the famous waterfall in Chefchaouen.

Later in the day when I ran into him again, he accompanied me to a leather shop and actually did the haggling for me to get the prices of a bag down.

In the end, it’s people like Idris who help remind me that there are good and friendly people in the world. Just spending an hour with him helped turn things around for me.

(Also, I am well aware of the fact that I was targeted as a tourist and Idris was likely just interested in selling carpets to me, but I’d like to think that his kindness wasn’t part of his sales tactic.)

Author: Megan

Megan is an ordinary girl who outgrew her small town and decided to try the world on for size. She's on a mission to travel, photograph, and write about the world.

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