Tourism in Morocco

The illusion of knowing a place, of understanding a different way of life; foreign roads, unfamiliar expressions, new sounds and new smells in the air. An immersion of few days in a different world that in reality it's just a light contact with the surface and then back again to the usual life.
The narrow streets of Fez are the corridor of a big house with the people knowing each other and the communication of tourists approaching spreading fast. We, seven people just landed, with our backpacks, our cameras, our white skin to highlight the condition of being tourists and foreigners. It's a warm and sunny day of January. Sellers in the street are waiting for us and we are gently but firmly forced to entering in their shops where we are offered carpets, food, clothes, skin, drugs, alcohol, souvenirs. Tourist means a rich country, money with legs. It's night when we sit on the dirty floor of a carpet factory, drinking green tea and dreaming of a trip in the desert. The air is heavy with the spicy smoke of hookah mixed with smell of food.
From this factory in Fez to a car directed south the step is short and the next morning, in the red sky of the sunrise appears a big mansion and a group of Berbers in a blue tunic waiting for us. Big smiles, bongos, songs under a clear blue sky are the best clock and we dance and sing with them in the desert. The tourist pack include a dromedary's caravan toward the dunes with a night in tend to etch the atmosphere of the desert.
The following morning, with the image of an impressive sunrise till tattooed in our retinas we go back to the house of the desert. Suddenly the carousel of dromedaries stop because of the approaching of two girls. Two girl, two tourists who have been walking on their own for many months. And like in a mirror we could clearly see how many meanings can contain the simple word tourist.