“Sadj” is the colloquial Arabic word for “gay” in most countries of the Middle East. While a more appropriate adjective “mithli” (“like me, similar, same-(sex)”) has found its way into the elite academic vernacular of contemporary Arab society, “sadj” is the term I heard most during my travels in the Middle East. Meaning, roughly, “peculiar” or “strange,” sadj is the easy way to classify a homosexual in the Arab world. The concept of homosexuality, of intimate and romantic same-sex relations, is still so taboo, that there is no need to delve farther than that one word. Forget butch or fem or any other adjectives you’ve come to appreciate as descriptive markers in Western gay society: sadj pretty much covers all the bases. More a result of culture than of religion (but now, unfortunately, reinforced by the three dominant monotheistic religions of the region), homosexuality in the Middle East nowadays is something people don’t particularly care to talk about. In some more progressive parts of the region, people understand and recognize that these “sadjeeyeen” exist, but there is no need to discuss them. Morocco is one of these places.

If you juxtapose Morocco (Maroc, in French) against many other countries in the Arab world, such as Sudan or Iraq, the sliver of North Africa looks likes a calm oasis for Middle Eastern gays and lesbians. While sporadic acts of violence against homosexuals is definitely a threat, they pale in comparison to the recent violence that has flared in post-invasion Iraq. And while many Moroccans are just as torn on the issue as most Arabs across the Middle East, Morocco tends to be a more lenient society overall than other North African countries. Morocco itself is a patchwork of cultures and languages, ranging from Berber to Spanish, Portuguese to Arab, and French to Senegalese and sub-saharan African. Most Moroccans are descendants of the Berbers, the original inhabitants of the the “maghreb” region of North Africa, including the current Moroccan ruler, King Mohammed VI. Throw in there a mix of all the ethnicities listed above and you have a country steeped in cultural diversity and plurality. In my opinion, this kind of melting pot of cultures, minorities, languages, and religions is the ideal environment for the acceptance of homosexuals. Look at the United States or Britain: two countries with relatively accepting social policies with historically large immigrant populations. Currently Morocco has the potential to reach the level of acceptance needed for an open society that embraces homosexuals, but with the rising threat of Islamic fundamentalism and extremism, as well as a cultural revival aiming to bring Morocco back to the seventh century and the time of the Prophet Muhammad, homosexuals (at least Moroccan homosexuals) continue to be looked at, thankfully in a mostly nonviolent manner, as taboo: as “sadj.”

This doesn’t mean that Morocco is anti-gay. On the contrary, the country has come a long way under the auspices of the current royal regime. In 2005, King Muhammad VI endorsed a grand, sweeping reform of the mudawana, or Moroccan family code, that extended much needed basic human rights to Morocco’s women and children, much to the chagrin of many fundamentalists. In addition to the family law reforms, King Muhammad VI has expanded (if only by a small measure) the power of Morocco’s parliament and has endorsed the idea of more powerful multiparty political system. While Morocco’s monarchy is not going anywhere anytime soon (the king is considered a descendant of the Prophet Muhammad), many in Morocco are becoming more and more impatient with the royal house. And while most homes and shops are equipped with portraits of their youthful king, it is common to find many Moroccans who would rather see the throne abolished, to be replaced by a more democratic system or an Islamist-led regime. New rumors about the king emerge everyday and can result in a strict response from the Moroccan government if leaked to the press or published online. The most entertaining, and personally interesting, rumor I stumbled across during my time in Morocco is that the king himself may be homosexual. Young, in his forties, and an avid water sportsman, many street vendors sell smiling photos of the king on vacation jet skiing in the south of France. Very rarely do you see pictures of the Moroccan ruler with his young wife or child. One of the juiciest rumors came this past summer, when it became known that the Moroccan king had decided to take a vacation to a private chateau outside of Paris, sans his wife or child, and, presumably, in the company of men. Could the Moroccan king be gay? For most traditional Moroccans, this would result in a blasphemy so intense it could threaten the throne itself. The idea of a gay member of the Prophet Mohammad’s lineage would be disastrous for the royal family and Morocco’s system of constitutional monarchy. Unfortunately, we may never know. Any questioning the king’s sexuality would almost certainly result in a swift backlash by the royal house and the Moroccan authorities. It is important to note that this type of response by the Moroccan government is not reserved for questioning their ruler’s personal life alone, almost any publicized opinion of the king can result in imprisonment or trial.

The king aside, Moroccan society, especially urban communities, are becoming slightly more open to homosexuals in their presence, if not the accepting of the actual concept itself. Marrakech, for example, is the largest city in southern Morocco and the tourist hub of the country. Known for its pink hued buildings, winding “souks” (markets) and djemma el-fnaa, or Square of the Dead, once used to display the executions of prisoners but now used for outdoor food stalls and entertainment, Marrakech is the Morocco many think of when considering the country for a vacation. With the desert to one side and the looming High Atlas mountains to the other, Marrakech is truly a magical city. This is made more so by its recent transition into a more decadent venue. Bars and clubs are springing up across the new city, inviting Moroccans to sit back, sip a beer (another taboo across much of the Middle East) and socialize with singles outside of the home and immediate community. Across town, in the old city, gay Europeans are coming in droves to buy up expensive real estate to renovate traditional Moroccan riads, or courtyard homes, into summer homes. Many rural Moroccan gays are leaving their villages and farms to settle into apartments and homes in Morocco’s new flashy vacation city. Walking through the djemma el-fnaa one evening, I met several gay Moroccan men, all out enjoying themselves and their new found urban freedom. This new liberalism has even resulted in the publication of a “Hedonists Guide to Marrakech”, part of a series of tour books usually reserved for larger, more European destinations. Agadir, Casablanca, and Fez, three other Moroccan cities, are also working to catch up with Marrakech’s success, expanding their new cities and allowing the construction of discotheques, bars, and other places that encourage mingling amongst the Moroccan youth.

In short, Morocco is no France or Spain. To be openly homosexual is still dangerous, if more to one’s reputation and family honor than to one’s physical safety as in other Middle Eastern countries. While the king still calls all the shots and the press is heavily censured, the diverse history of the Moroccan people is creating a moderate atmosphere in a conservative neighborhood of the world. More and more Moroccan gays are finding it easier to meet each other and live their lives, especially in cities such as Marrakech. Gay travelers are finding an option in the Middle East to experience Arab culture and not fear for their safety, although modesty is absolutely required when in public. And while the Moroccan dialect still uses words such as “sadj” to describe homosexuals, many are finding themselves apathetic and, in some rare cases, open to same-sex relations. After returning home from living in Morocco, I called my host brother to tell him that I am gay. I was almost more nervous than when I came out to my parents. I expected immediate rejection from my host family, a crumbling of cross cultural relations I had nurtured over the past year. To my surprise my host brother and other Moroccan friends completely embraced my sexuality. “Who cares?” my host brother exclaimed, “You are my brother, and I love you for who you are.”

I only hope that this feeling of acceptance and openness will become more and more widespread in Morocco in the years to come.

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Morocco is an ancient civilization steeped in history and hormones, a gold mine for the archeologist and psychologist. If you go looking for a western-style gay scene in Morocco you won`t find it as in law homosexuality is illegal and you risk arrest, deportation or imprisonment if found guilty of “lewd or unnatural acts with an individual of the same sex.” Neverthless you can’t legislate against human nature, and if you`re not looking, man-man sex situations will most likely simply unfold. Tangier was perhaps the world’s first gay resort and Casablanca is infamous as a city where just about anything is for sale. Paradoxical and elusive, bisexuality in Morocco is a common part of male life, but it’s veiled, ambiguous in meaning and not used as part of one`s identity.

ALI AND THE HOTEL
Still, most gay Moroccans never have an ongoing gay relationship. Mostly, they are married with kids and find only an occasional assignation for their secret needs. There are exceptions to this, of course, as we found out, since one such man was standing nearby–our hotel owner, Ali, a quietly charming man of about 50. His current ownership of the hotel was the result of a relationship with his late partner who passed away a couple of years ago. They had been lovers for thirty years even though Ali was married for twenty of those thirty years and the father of two children.

Ali was a self-acknowledged gay man who took his roles as husband/father/lover seriously even though he and his partner never lived full time under the same roof. Originally from Scotland, the partner bought the hotel many years ago and when he met Ali they became business partners. This conveniently masked the more intimate aspects of their affairs. It was a love story in which Lawrance felt privileged to have been closely involved as a friend and confidante.

Ali told us that he cared very much for his family, but when my friend Lawrance asked if he loved his wife, Ali looked away for a second before he replied: ” I love her as I am suppose to. (Pause) As long as I do my duty to her, financially and sexually, I am free to have my life outside the home. She does not ask questions.” I could see from this bifurcated answer that even after all these years, this middle-aged gay Moroccan had not fully reconciled his inner nature with the social demands on him. I appreciated, however, the sincerity and devotion he had divided, as fairly as he could, among his significant others.

INTO THE DESERT
But Morocco is not all about hormones and ambiguous romance. There is much history and beauty to this northwest corner of Africa. A week later we arrived at the Auberge Merzouga in the Sahara Desert. There are rooms as well as tents for rent. We opted for one of the black wool Berber tents only fifty yards from dunes. From a short distance, the hostel looked like a medieval fort with small turrets and foot-thick walls of white plaster. The tent was £2.40 and dinner was £3.50 – tagine lamb and vegetable stew and harine soup – delicious and savoury. You could also opt for the Auberge Derkaoua which offers both tents and rooms with shower and wc plus a swimming pool and you can book in advance through the Riadomaroc agency which offers other traditional accommodation too. Click the link below for more information.
At sunset, the sand hills turned from soft taupe through a color chart of amber, sienna and gold accompanied by long deep shadows. As the last rays of direct light lingered on the land, a row of camel riders came walking across one of the dunes as if on cue to fill my camera lens. The night passed under a billion crystal stars spread out across the sky like scattered fairy dust. There are not more stars here, just less human produce to murk up the sky. We were the only guests that night. Absolute silence and darkness prevailed on the edge of the great timeless desert. In places like this, it`s best to go out, look up at infinity, say nothing and think less for a while.
At 5 AM, from the earthen village of Merzouga half a mile away the muezzin called out in the blackness his chant “Allaho-akbar…” to those who might come to the mosque and pray for the first of five times daily. The chant was too sweet to call an interruption. Mostly, only the roosters responded to the muezzin`s cry at that hour.

Then the most startling of all the wonders in this place. In the crystalline blackness a gigantic bright glowing orb appeared with a million-mile vapor trail. It didn`t seem to move and the enormous tail did not diminish. I thought perhaps it was a dying star in its last gasp of supernova burn. There was no possible means of finding out what it was; no TV, no radio, certainly nothing published in English, not even other tourists to ask. It was not until days later that I found out this stunning astronomical prize was the “heavenly show of the decade”: the Hale-Bapp comet.

In the morning, the urge to climb the dunes was too seductive and we submitted. The powdery surface was difficult to walk on so I settled for a lesser mound that presented me with an impressive photogenic view of the rising light and falling shadows.

I sat for a while on this warm soft mustard hill running my hands in the sand and lifting up a handful to watch the fine grains running through my fingers. I imagined this is what infinity must feel like as I watch the earth slip away from my grasp back into the countless other grains surrounding me. Footprints left today are gone in an hour. The desert is a good place to contemplate immortality and the passing of time. Thoughts or beliefs make not one grain of difference among the sand mountains that have drifted here for a million years. It`s not sad or joyous, just quiet and endless.

For two wondrous weeks, we had found in Morocco a land of history, sublime night skies, moderate Muslim life and a few hormones.
PAUL BOWLES
No gay man should visit Morocco without some knowledge of the expat writer and composer Paul Bowles who lived most of his life in Morocco. This quintessential outsider died in 1999 at the age of 88. He was one of the central figures in what was called the `pre-lost Generation` who befriended such icons of 20th century art as Aaron Copeland, Christopher Isherwood, Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Orson Welles, and Tennessee Williams among others including such iconoclastic figures as Alan Ginsberg. His most famous work was the novel `Sheltering Sky`, which was eventually made into a movie.

A bisexual man, he married the lesbian writer Jane Auer in 1938. Through countless affairs on both sides, they continued their marriage and remained emotionally loyal to one another. In a final interview he stated about his life: “I regret nothing.” In tribute to his life, a full-page obituary appeared in the New York Times of November 19, 1999. The reporter wrote: “In his strange, exotic life, Mr. Bowles apparently did exactly what he wanted to do, writing fiction and music and continually searching for that magic place where he would find his twined goals of wisdom and ecstasy.”

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