Marrakech, Atlas mountains and Fes (the world's largest maze). A land of stark contrasts. Within ten minutes, we could move from narrow streets filled with donkeys, spices, and ancient tradition to the broad streets of the ville nouveau and local McDonalds. Naked smells of herbs, animals and pollution. Men-only tea stores. Haunting calls to prayer five times a day. Constant barrage of sounds, stares and shouts -- many directed at us. It was as if we at a zoo, but unsure of whether we were the people or the animals. Despite the unending stream of attention it felt safer than a western city.