two weeks in another culture, another country, another landscape does wonders for the mind and heart. i spent the time with 28 people i didn’t know on an escorted holiday that covered 1500 miles, many geologic zones, and many tagines! 
i did take note of the lack of older people on the streets. then i discovered that half for morocco’s population is under 30! i don’t know why that is, but its a remarkable statistic. this younger population has moved out of the old cities into modern blocks of flats. no winding, crowded alleyways for the internet generations. instead they have opted for soulless, identical buildings without character or charm. granted, they are also without donkeys and their poop!
as i gave more thought to the culture around me i realised that life happens inside in morocco...inside the walls of the courtyards. that is where the beauty lies. that is also where the olders are. inside. hidden? protected? happy?
sadly, i neglected to inquire of the local guide about the attitude toward olders/elders in this most liberal of Islamic countries.so I did what any 21st century elder would do...i logged on to the ‘net and found some very disturbing articles...morocco among the worst countries for people over 60....half of morocco’s sick elderly can’t afford to pay for healthcare...nearly 70% of morocco’s elderly are illiterate.no wonder the elders i saw on the streets were infirm, most likely poor, and ailing.
my heart ached for them as i continued along in an air conditioned coach, aware of the disparity between my life and theirs, my incredible privilege and their lack of what i often take for granted.my heart still bleeds.