Street Boys of Tangier, Morocco
Bell Tower of Church Where Missionaries of Charity in Tangier Live and Serve
Tangier is an amazing cosmopolitan city in northern Morcco, located on the Strait of Gilbraltar where the Mediterranean Sea meets the Atlantic Ocean. Known as “the gateway between Africa and Europe, the city is a bustling hub of commerce, multicultural heritage…and stunning coastal views.
I arrived on June 26th to volunteer with the Missionaries of Charity for a couple weeks, and to explore this entriging city. When I arrived in the City Center I quickly found room and boarding at the Villa Adam, a beautiful home with Moroccan architecture and furnishings, complete with a pool surrounded by blossoming gardens.
The Missionaries of Charity are found in an old, four story Catholic Church in a bustling narrow street marketplace just off the Jardin de la Mendoublia, a green park with flowers throughout, up on a hillside high above the beaches of Tangier. My first day volunteering found me scraping paint off the ceiling in a narrow stair well. It was back breaking work and I quickly conceded that painting this area would require several days and perhaps more talent that I possessed.
My second day at the Missionaries of Charity was Monday, the 29th of June. I knew on this day that the sisters encouraged the boys living on the street to come into the church to rest, shower, get a clean change of clothing and have a meal.
When I arrived at the church I found three boys waiting outside that were definitely street children. They were rough and boisterous. Excited to get into the church so they could rest, get fresh clothing and get a free meal. There ages were around 13 or 14 years old, except for an older boy of around 18. He was clearly the leader. As I approached the boys were a bit shy. However, after a quick conversation they relaxed and we ended up having a wonderful conversation about how Tangier and how they were coping with the heat of the summer.
Three Street Boys Waiting for Others to Arrive
To my discouragement they were heavy users or sniffers of glue. They couldn’t put the glue that they put onto a rag away, not even for a minute. It almost appeared as if they were sucking their thumb as they put the rag to their faces. They were also smokers.
Within a few minutes 11 more street boys arrived and we were warmly greeted and let into the church. Without any words exchanged the boys put away their rags and cigarettes and marched into the main hall of the church. There they were told to wait for 30 or so minutes before being called one-by-one to take their showers and receive their clean clothes. During the wait I was assign to help keep the peace if there were any disputes, and to distribute some fig bars and juice.
Almost immediately the boys layed on the cool marble floor and past out into a deep sleep, only to be awake when called to go to the shower. I could only imagine their street life. It was obvious that a great deal of their life took place in the evening and that they were under constant strain and pressure to make ends meet. The sisters mentioned to me that the boys came from abusive homes, where expectations were that they begged in the street and needed to meet a quota or be penalized. Ultimately, they left home. Some as early as 8 years old. Still, other boys were simply told to go to the streets as the parents were not in a position to support him.
In mid-afternoon the meal was over and the boys were reluctantly shown the door to return to the streets so that we could sweep and mop. Washing by hand the clothing they left (to be returned to them next week when they returned) envolved putting the clothing into large wash basins to soak overnight and then scrubbed by hand the following day. I could tell the boys loved being with the sisters. They extended an amazing amount of kindness and love to the boys while also giving them strucutre.
I as well felt a strong bond with the boys, some of whom were not feeling well. While the government tries mightily to provide services to them during the day they are always turned back into the streets for the night. I can’t help but to think there’s an opportunity to create a home or homes where volunteers can extend the love of the sisters while giving the boys a place to sleep while they receive their public education and a chance for the future.
I recently listened to a popular song by Richard Marx from the 80’s that I think pretty much captures the life of the Street Boys:
All that I know in my life
I have learned on the street
No magic carpet
No genie, no shoes on my feet
Will I wake up from this nightmare?
A fear that chills me to the bone
Though I may be one of many
I feel so all alone
We are children of the night
We won’t go down without a fight
Our voice is stong, our future is bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
We’ve grown into the children of the night
Left by my father
With only this scar on my face
Told by my mother that
No, you were just a mistake
I have tasted my own hunger
Sold my body to survive
Some have paid to scratch the surface
But they can’t touch what’s inside
We are children of the night
We won’t go down without a fight
Our voice is strong, our future’s bright
But thanks to what we learned from you
We’ve grown into the children of the night
How I long for something better
Than this life I know too well
Lord, I know I’m bound for heaven
‘Causer I’ve done my time in hell
We are the children of the night
We won’t go down without a fight
Our voice is strong our future’s bright
And thanks to what we learned from you
We’ve grown into the children of the night.