The Village of Agdal
Morocco sometime in the late 90’s
Agdal is a tiny mountain village of houses made of rammed earth. The large structure in the photo is a Kasbah, an apartment house with many families living in it. It is like a fortress as well. I often wandered through kasbahs, but in this isolated village, I didn’t. The people were too reserved and skeptical of strangers.
The girl is running away from me. She has never seen a woman wearing pants or a woman without a scarf covering her hair. She might be genuinely frightened, or she may be running from my camera. Berbers and Arabs in Morocco do not want their photo taken.
Often the village women would debate among themselves as to whether I was a man or a woman. My guide told me this later. He, being Berber himself, would not speak to strange women, so they were left to whatever conclusions they could come to.
I like this photo because the shadow on the right looks like a fist…the hand of fate. I can’t say that fate is unkind to these people despite their primitive lifestyle. It is my belief, after visiting many third world countries, that God metes out happiness in equal amounts.