Caught Red-Handed

So it has been a good month since I posted anything, and a few things have happened since then. I have been swamped with work, and had a training this past week in Marrakesh. While I certainly will write about other topics, I wanted to address this topic first. Mainly because it is super-fresh in my mind.

I like to think that people are generally good people. But, sometimes, I know that there are crappy people that look to harass you or try to swindle you out of your money or things.

The past week I spent in Marrakesh for a training and was fortunate to meet up and hang out and catch up with other volunteers from around Morocco. It was also a chance for me to experience a new place, probably the most touristy in all of Morocco.

I had heard from others who had gone previously that I would not like Marrakesh, due to the harassment of guides, vendors, and random street folks. Kind of sad, but I would expect that in a place so touristy.

While all of those things were present, I absolutely enjoyed the city, and all of the various people watching that came along with it. Sure, I got harassed, was asked to leave a store because I was just "looking" and not "buying", and was called a "bed-wetter" (I am still wondering how he knew!!! hehe) when I would not let a guy help us find somewhere. In a future post I will tell you of my adventures in this touristy place, but in fact, I do thoroughly enjoy 'Kech, just as much as I enjoy Fes (for different reasons of course). But I have a story that trumps it all, and needs to be shared.

One night, I was making my way to the train station, to see what times trains were leaving the next day. I was carrying a backpack, and had a plastic bag and a plant in one hand (right hand), and the other hand (left hand) was free. I happened to be at a place called Jemaa El Fna. If you have never heard of such a place, you have certainly seen pictures. This is the place where all the food vendors set up shop, selling everything from OJ, to dates, to snails, to brains, to soup. It is a hustle and bustle of a place, probably the most touristy in Morocco, and the place happened to be full of people. It was a holiday, the Green March, celebrating Morocco's march into the Western Sahara region.

Having finished indulging on the food and people watching, I was waiting at the nearby bus hub for bus number 8, that would take me to the train station. The bus area was full of people. So when my bus pulled up, everyone crowded around the one door. Moroccans have difficulties in waiting their turn and lining up, and this situation was no different. While I hate doing it, I had no choice but to join them, and to kind of push my way towards the door. The only problem was that my hand was full, and I did not want to drop anything.

As I started to push to the door, I thought to myself "this is the perfect time to be pickpocketed, your hands are full and you are in a crowd with almost no space between people." So being kind of vigilant, I recalled a little boy unzipping my bag a few months back. It just so happened that during this time, a little boy (maybe 5) was fidgeting with my backpack. I kept giving him looks and tried to separate distance. But then I saw he was messing with a book, and I thought, "little boy, you can take my book if you wish."

At the same time I was paying attention to this boy, the group of us were still pushing for the door. The next set of events still are kind of blurry (at least the first few), but it got crazy.

I turned my head around, and swore that I felt something rubbing against my pocket. I looked down, and did not really see anything. I looked back up, and instantly realized that in fact I DID see something going on underneath my shirt that was hanging over my left pocket. I looked down again, and this time saw fidgeting in my pocket, and felt it. I instantly (kind of instinctively) looked up to see the guy next to me peering down towards my pocket, and his arm extended the same direction. I knew instantly this guy was in my pocket. (Remember, this is all within a few seconds)

I, like many of you, dislike when someone reaches into my pocket without invitation. So I then pulled his arm out. I did not let go, and was able to get an arm bar so he could not quickly bolt. I held on, and once again, instinctively, began yelling as loud as I could "Thief", in Moroccan Arabic. About as instantly as I yelled this two things happened.

The first thing was that the guy gave me my money back. He had in his hand my change purse. If you know my change purse, it is a cute Winnie the Pooh purse. In it, I had about 7 DH in change. Not much, the equivalent of about .90 Cents. His reaction in my opinion was priceless and ludicrous. He just handed it back, as if to say "You caught me, you win, here is your money back." I continued to hold onto his arm and then feel my pocket to make sure I had my camera and cell phone, both of which were in that same pocket.

The second thing that happened almost instantly after I started yelling, was that everyone stepped back, and basically created a circle around me and the thief. This allowed the thief no where to bolt through, and after I finally realized I had all of my belongings, I let go of his arm. The circle aloud me to face the guy, where I got in his face and shamed him in front of all the people. He then kind of walked off, and I think took his jacket off so he looked different.

I was glad my hand was full, because I really think I would have punched and or tackled him and held him to the ground until the police came. But I realized that would not have been smart, as he may have been working with other people, or he may have had a knife. But yes, I really wanted to hit him, and decided just to get on the bus instead.

I got on the bus, and talked to a guy who told me my knowledge of Moroccan Arabic saved me. After telling him I spoke no Darija, I spoke a berber language, he asked if I was a PCV. He told me I did the right thing (which I knew I did). The adrenaline rush continued for a few minutes, and eventually it wore off.

Afterward, I have replayed the situation over and over. I know I did everything right, and for that I am proud of myself for reacting so fast the way that I did. It is never comfortable to have that happen, but I know that hopefully in these situations I am prepared.

Lastly, if you do ever travel into places that are swarming with tourists, be on guard. I have had too many friends be pick-pocketed or held-up at knife-point in places like Rome or Paris.