By Rabia for the Al-Andalus Tribune
She pulled out a spritzer and said “have some!” I said “what’s that girl!?” She said “the best from the UAE!” She sprayed once, twice on my neck. I almost fainted in the taxi seat next to her.
I couldn’t wait for that road trip to be over and get home so I could scrape my skin off that smell. Or at least that’s how I felt.
My smelly encounters haven’t stopped since I moved back to Morocco after 30 years overseas. I hardly recognize my country or my culture anymore. Everywhere I go, men and mostly women are doused in heavy smelling scents. Most are pretty unpleasant and most certainly unwelcome, at least to me. I can’t judge for others.
My visits with nice people in their homes have been ruined by these strange chemical smells from cleaning products. Even my biking excursions alongside the beautiful Mediterranean beach to enjoy the fresh sea breeze have been affected when suddenly, out of nowhere, an overwhelming synthetic smell hits me like a toxic tidal wave, almost knocking me senseless.
Am I the only one who may be sensitive to strong smells? Am I just overreacting?
I do love the smells of flowers. I even use aromatherapy regularly in my healing practice, and personally for me and my family. But for some reason the smells that I use have a different effect on me. In fact the two types of smells have opposite effects. The ones that give me a feeling of well-being are the natural ones—but don’t trust the label! Some companies like Yves Rocher have added synthetic fragrances even though they say their products are natural. But my nose knows! The synthetic ones make me feel unwell, and truth be told, don’t smell good to me.
One day as I was scrolling down Facebook reels I came across a doctor named Mindy Pelz. Dr Pelz talks about artificial fragrances and how they are huge hormone disrupters. Listening to her I started revisiting the past and realizing how much my culture has changed. When I was a little girl in the 1970s hardly any Moroccan could afford industrial beauty products. Most of us grew up using ghassoul mixed with rose petals or rose water to wash our hair and body, and black soap made from leftover cooking oil. By the time I was a teenager more industrial products hit the market at competitive prices—and were boosted by deceptive marketing. Voila! Pretty soon almost everyone was using them, thinking they were better for hygiene.
This change in culture has coincided with a change in people’s health and especially women’s health, society’s womb. Infertility, which is underreported for financial and other reasons, and other reproductive system diseases that never existed before, are unfortunately the new normal in Moroccan society. But the worst part is how the “official” scientific studies fail to take into consideration the patient’s toxic lifestyle as a possible contributing cause for these maladies. (Most studies are biased because they are funded by politically-influenced organizations.)
Some believe that ignorance is bliss. But our society’s ignorance concerning such important subjects as nutrition, vaccination, and the potentially toxic effects of household and beauty products is not a recipe for happiness.
