Facebook Twitter Pinterest. I left Morocco more than 15 years ago. Far more than a personal question, it is the object of collective anxiety. And accompanied by the appalling fear of being found and then arrested on the spot by the police. An innocent and entirely natural flirtation between two teenagers. The policemen walked up to our car. They knew perfectly well what we were up to. The choice, for us, cannot be compared with that made by young women in the west because in Morocco it is tantamount to a political statement, however unwitting.
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