Berber Nomads
Boumalne Dades, Morocco: late 1990’s
We picked up a man, who worked in a shop in Boumalne Dades. He said he knew where the cave dwelling Berbers could be found.
The head of the nomad family was out with his flocks of goats or sheep. The woman, maybe in her twenties, was alone with her three daughters. She was frightened when she saw us, but the rules of hospitality kept her from running and hiding as her oldest daughter did. The girl must have been frightened also, but she was brave and took over the job of protector: running to her small sisters, scolding them for being curious about us, and rushing them into the cave.
Troglodyte Nomads
The mother was torn between her duty to offer us refreshment and her fear of strangers. Most likely she was also afraid of what her husband might say or do when he got back and heard (from the older girl, no doubt) that she had spoken to strangers.
The men with me realized her fears and we left after a few minutes. They said the reason she was fearful was that once a nomad had seen a photo of his wife in a magazine. What??? How would a nomad see a magazine? And even if he did, what were the chances of seeing a photo of his wife in that issue? They had no answer for that.
There was no denying that the woman was frightened although I didn’t see it. I was too busy getting photos. The lens can be a sort of glass curtain, keeping the photographer from grasping the nuances of the situation. That’s why it is good to have a local with you. They’ll tell you when you have overstayed your welcome.