That oriental vibe

I feel a deep bond with my oriental roots. Arabic, andalusian and other similar tribal vibes take me to a completely different dimension where i can be a nomad poet back in the days of the medieval Arab Empire. Just like Omar Khayam, i would write poems in the desert with a cup full of wine, a sky full of stars and a heart full of adventure, lust and magic. Here’s a playlist specially for those of you who enjoy oriental sounds or who feel like listening to a very different register from what is usually out there. Enjoy the musical ride and feel free to share, like and comment.

  • Dhafer Youssef
  • Armand Amar
  • Taksim Trio
  • Mercan Dede
  • Radiodervish

With love,

FZ

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Pensées à la dérive

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La vie est une étincelle. De l’énergie. Beaucoup d’énergie gâchée surtout. Une vie, des vies, la vie : quoi d’autre que des éclats, des fissures, des brèches dans le temps. Quant on y pense, bien trop insignifiantes. Et on naît, et on parle, et on marche et puis on analyse, on sourit, on courre dans tout les sens, et puis on écrit et puis, et puis… Tout ça, pour exister, pour vivre. Pour appartenir à quelque chose, une civilisation dont on ne sait rien. Pour se sentir utile, pour ne pas se sentir de trop ni se sentir trop petit dans un monde trop grand, et bien trop large pour nos bras. Mais nous sommes le relais, la brèche, la fissure. L’éclat de toute chose. Et puis on meurt. Souvent, on quitte ce monde sans avoir compris. Sans avoir réalisé que tout ce qu’on pense donner à l’univers, au monde, aux autres, n’est qu’une veine envie de laisser une trace. C’est peut être cela la raison du pourquoi. La question existentielle qui tracasse toute l’humanité depuis la nuit des temps. C’est un peu la finalité des escapades philosophiques et différentes errances de nos cerveaux. Arrivés à cette question, nous ne savons plus rien. Nous avons des théories, des fantasmes. Arrivés à ce stade de réflexion, nous ne sommes plus qu’une question, sans réponse. Pourquoi sommes nous ici ? Que faisons nous sur terre ? Pourquoi nous, pourquoi moi ? Qui sommes nous déjà ? Trop de questions, trop de pistes. On est là pour aider les autres. Mais si nous on est là pour les aider, pourquoi sont-ils ici ? Nous sommes donc ici pour aimer, pour partager le bonheur autour de nous. J’aimerais bien y croire, j’y crois mais ça fait surtout parti de mes buts dans la vie : être ici pour partager. Mais bon, c’est peut être pas ça. On est, et puis c’est tout. On saura à la fin. C’est comme regarder un film sans connaitre le nom du réalisateur, ou du film lui-même. On zappe les premières minutes de film, et puis on regarde, le personnage principal grandit, évolue, traverse une foule de péripéties. Et c’est la fin. L’écran est noir : on voit le générique. Et nous, on veut exactement ça, le générique de nos vies. Qui nous a crée, et pourquoi, et dans quel but, et ci, et ça. Mais tout ceci ne peut être connu que vers la toute fin. Trop curieux : voilà ce que nous sommes. En attendant la fin, on rate le film en entier. On n’arrive pas à attendre, moi surtout. Je veux tout, maintenant. On veut le bonheur, l’amour, l’argent, le voyage, le plaisir, le ciel, la terre, la rédemption…

Et tout petits que nous sommes, nous essayons de laisser une trace. Une trace infiniment minuscule, presque insignifiante. Presque.

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On being a woman in Morocco

Being a woman in Morocco is… wow, where do i begin? In my early twenties, I can clearly say that being a woman in my country has to be one of life’s biggest challenges. It’s almost the same case for my fellow sisters in other third-world countries and arab world. I can’t describe how many times I decided to stay home instead of going out to avoid being hassled, to change outfit based on the place I’m going to, to take a long shirt to cover myself with when I’m in the streets and that I take away once “safe” with people I know, to ask my friends to walk with me so that I don’t get followed or harassed… It’s almost a caricature how women are treated here. There’s actually something  even more curious going on: you’re either rich and untouchable from all this sexism, discrimination, harassment and hate; or, you’re poor or in the middle class and you’re forced to live and interract with narrow-minded, biased, bigoted and misogyneous people. I chose the word ‘people’ here instead of ‘men’ because the problem about patriarchy and woman-hate in our country is not something that only men do, it became something so rooted and so deeply cultural that a lot of women became discriminatory against their own kind too. These women see themselves as objects just like society does, they accept what their fathers, brothers and husbands force them to be: good mothers, excellent housewives  and taboo sexual matter that needs to be hiden back home. As a result, you can see a woman treating another woman a slut in the street and laughing at her if a man molests her in public for the only reason that she’s wearing a skirt, pants or just any other outfit that doesn’t cover her entire body. Women fight each other to proove that they’re the saintest and purest. To me, that’s the worst about misogyny in our country. It’s when even our women decide to lose hope, It’s one of the main reasons behind the lack of important changes when it comes to women’s rights.

To be honnest, I don’t fight for women who don’t want to fight for their freedom as well, I think that these women, with all due respect to my sisters, deserve the lives they live: they don’t study, work, nor travel much, they live in a closed circle of social appearences and a very hypocrit environment, they get hit by every man around them, they don’t vote, they don’t help build this country up, they’re just there for no particular reason at all. And they’re happy about their situation, so I’m happy for them too even if to me, they’re not real women. reasons behind this situation are so profoundly entrenched back in history but also in many dissimilar aspects of our culture, education, patriarchy, but also the extremism that rules increasingly in Morocco and the muslim countries , making more victims each year turning freedom into a rare currency. To hide their anti-feminism and hate for women kind, our men hide behind religion as an excuse to treat women as less than men, sometimes less than humans. It’s also very funny when you realize that Islam, on the inverse, gave women at the era of the prophet more value than they ever had at that period of time, which means that if we want to do exactly like Islam did we have to raise women’s chin up, not bring her down. How can our country ever evolve if more than half of our population is either analphabet, at home, workless or under-educated ? How can we ever go further as a nation if we lack equality, union, peaceful living between the sexes and most importantly respect for each other ? The second funny part is that besides Islam, our Moroccan traditional values were never about shaming women. Yes, it was a Man’s world, but women were always respected, which is something that is almost missing nowadays. I got called hundreds of names in the street I can’t even remember them all. Everyday, everywhere you go, no man can give you a break: he has to say “zin”, “pss pss”, to whisper at you, to call you a fat ass, a slut, a whore, to ask you to give him a blowjob or whatever his perverted mind thinks of at the moment. It’s so humiliating that i look back at our ancestors who used to cross to the other side of the rroad whenever women used to pass so that they don’t make them feel uncomfortable. It was an act of social suicide to either whisper, pursue, stalk, touch or just stare at a woman you don’t know. Men usually defend themselves saying that it’s because women back in the days used to respect themselves and that there wasn’t that much prostitution back then, and that they can’t make the difference between a respectful woman and a whore anymore unless she is covered and well dressed. Well, excuse me to remind you that respect is something that each one of us has to both give himself and others and the fact that there’s a lot of prostitutes doesn’t give you any sort of right to annoy every girl you see assuming she is. That, my friend, is against every rule of our religion, culture and traditions, but also against every rule morality ever made and every kind of respect and decency human kind has ever worked towards. To assume that because there’s prostitutes, all girls are, is so revolting and odious it proves just how much brain these men actually have (none).

These people factually think with their dicks and then blame it on women for not covering themselves, for not staying home, for passing in front of them, for having boobs and curves and booties that attract them: for existing in the first place! Like if a woman’s job was to make sure she either fucks the guy or hides from him. No sir, it is not our problem, nor our fault that you have little to no sex in your pathetic life, or else little to no brain and respect. It’s a shame to even hear about the arguments of these guys when you remember that they have mothers, sisters and wives that they wouldn’t want to see treated that way anywhere. The worst part is that when they say that it’s because of how women dress, it’s one hundred per cent false as many covered women in Morocco still get harassed on a regular basis and still deal with everything uncovered girls deal with. Unless you’re a ninja and wear a burqa –which is by the way an epidemic caused by extremism that grows like cancer- you will get insulted, followed, hated on and harassed by pervs every single day of your life, every time you walk alone without a man that can defend you, everytime you go out or just go to the grocery store. So as a woman in Morocco, you have three choices. You can chose to become sexist yourself as a women, to betray everything feminism has ever worked for, treating yourself as an piece of shit and truly believing it’s your fault everyone’s staring and treating you like a ‘thing’  so you wear long covering clothes or a burqa, stay home, listen to men and be an obedient and submissive woman like you were born to be. Or, you can chose to ignore the reality of women with money as you will be in high class neighborhoods  and places where you will be around well educated people who will treat you right so you won’t meet everyday life people; but in that case you’re running away from reality and not really making any move to help our cause, just like the other women who hide behind their clothes and closed minds. And of course, the third option is to deal with the bullshit. Everyday, every hour, everytime you walk outside. It’s a constant battle, a never ending fight between you and the society that will always view you as a whore, as a sexual object, as a body, as something that needs to be walked on. It can be tiring, it can be very humiliating, very nerve wrecking… but it’s the right path towards a better day when men and women stop fighting in Morocco and around the world, when women can go out fully covered or fully naked however they want and no one treats them differently whichever they chose to do with their bodies and lives. Us, as women, shouldn’t let anyone tell us what to do, what to be, or what to think. We shouldn’t hide because we will get raped or harassed, we should fight these people who think it’s okay for them to make women anything less than they truly are: human beings. We are not a prey nor victims, we are not here to satisfy some perverted idiot’s cravings and sexual desires, we are not here to wash the dishes and make food, we are not here to be locked inside a house with children crawling all over us. We could, but that’s not our main purpose; our purpose, just like men, is to be and do whatever the fuck we want !

 

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Moroccan Web Awards

Hey internet !

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I recently applied for the 2016 Moroccan Web Awards for both Blogger Category and Article of the year, it has been a dream of mine to participate in this competition (and why not win it?) so i’m asking you all a big favor today which is to vote for me in this link http://marocwebawards.com/mwa9/living-simplyy/
and here http://marocwebawards.com/mwa9/montee-de-lextremisme-religieux-au-maroc/

Forever yours !

FZ

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8 random facts about Morocco

Hi beloved readers. So here i am again, with a new brief article about ten random facts about Morocco. If you would like to share your own list of random facts, discuss one fact in specific, or just share your opinion, feel free to do so in the comment section down below.

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  1. Morocco is way more than just Marrakech on its own. And Marrakech is also way more than just the Medina and Souks alone. So for fucks sake, stop feeding the stereotypes we find when we type Morocco in Google: souks, riads and camels. No, i don’t go to the souk, no i don’t live in a riad nor in the medina (1% of the population of the country does) and no, i don’t go to school on a camel back.
  2. If you can be a human and traveller rather than a selfie stick tourist, maybe you won’t get annoyed by the Money Vampires. These people make you pay for their services, either you asked for the service in the first place, or not.
  3. We don’t communicate in Classical Arabic, we speak in the Darija dialect; and every city has its own accent. 
  4. You can’t leave the country without eating at least ten random dishes in the street. P.S : thank me later.
  5. The best cafés, pubs, galleries and interesting places than i visited here are really hidden. So look well, and ask for recommendations.
  6. Talk to locals, all ages and categories : they’re the soul of the city.
  7. You will get offered more tea than your belly can possibly handle, and everytime you will accept and drink. NEVER do you ever say no to tea (this is a Moroccan unspoken rule actually, break it and you’ll be cursed).
  8. There’s more cats in the street than you can possibly count. 

Peace out,

FZ

“Let’s talk about sex, habibi” by Joumana Haddad

I love Joumana Haddad’s honnesty, she wrote the great book « Superman is arab » and is the founder of the very controversial Jasad Magazine (Body Magazine). Writing and fighting for secularism, human dignity, women’s rights and sexual freedom in the Arab world, she’s one of my favourite female arab authors. Here’s an article she wrote in a journal that I find very thought provoking and quite accurate on so many levels. She speaks about how sexuality is viewed by our Arabic language and most especially in Lebanon, but not only, it also applies in other Arab countries like Morocco. Read ahead and share with us your view on the topic in the comment section down bellow.

“Censor the body and you’d be simultaneously censoring breath and speech. Your body must be heard”- Helene Cixous

“There are countless names for the penis and for the vulva in the Arabic language. You would think our only problem is to decide which one to use. Well, think again. Our problem is that we do NOT use them. So much so that the majority of these words has become obsolete.

We are a culture of estrangement. Most lebanese would agree that whenever they discuss sexuality, whether orally or in writing, they feel much more comfortable doing it in French or in English. Many readers told me, when I first published Jasad Magazine: “You would have shocked people much less if it weren’t in Arabic.” Continue reading