Fuck, I am being sold for goatsDecember 16, 2019 in Morocco ⋅ 🌧 12 °C
On our first night in Fés we went to a traditional Moroccan feast with music and belly dancing. Only 6 out of the 9 group members went. I was the only girl. They sat us on the stage. At no time did I think ooohh better not sit on the edge because I will be pulled into the entertainment.
The dinner was nice. We had non lettuce salad, tangines and couscous, fruit, mint tea, cookies all well listen to traditional music. Then the bloody band took a break and another group came up. The old man drummer kept throwing me kisses, wanting to dance with me and kept putting his head in my lap. At one point he pulled me to dance with him on the stage. I sat down and thought I was was safe.
Next thing I know I am being pulled to dance with other girls and the other end of the restaurant. At which point I was like “oh no, this is it, Ty sold me for goats”. The madness stopped when performers got enough tips. Ty said he put in 100 MAD. He saved me for 13.70 CAD. That is love.
Then the belly dance comes on. I am safe right? Fuck no. Next thing you know the belly dancer is pulling me up, wrapping my scarf around my waist and I am doing a bad version of a belly dance. 🤦🏻♀️
I had 1 very light beer. This was no Ukrainian dance or River Dance off. I could nail those. Moroccan dancing is NOT on my resume.Read more