Morocco: A place to feel rather than to see, to experience rather than to visit. It is distinctly African in character. With its myriad of palm trees (the one thing familiar!), and deep red walls, the city is much different than any other I've other been to. Hypnotic enchantment, buzz of crowds, the colors, smells, and sounds. The sense of being on the edge of a mystical ritual. The people live in the now. Land of contrasts and diversity. The rhythm of a city that transforms with the cycle of the sun. It conjures up colors and breaths out excitement and energy. I never had a plan of where I'd travel, but out of all the places I definitely never considered Africa. And where did I end up? Morocco of course! It is impossible to be able to describe what we felt there through our experiences to someone who didn't share the moments. I could describe individual sights (the rolling of the sand dunes) or sounds (snake charmers playing their instruments) or smells. Oh, the smells! Either spices, camels, perfumes, donkeys, animals, steaming foods...All these were only layered together, or happening simultaneously, thus creating a surreal experience that I am so fortunate to have had the chance to have (and to have Janelle by my side to share it with). Marrakech is exotic. Marrakech is Moroccan. Marrakech is African. Marrakech is a city of contrasts-extreme contrasts.
Wake up in Europe to sleep in Morocco
So there's this place called Marrakech, its in Morocco, and I'm pretty sure, no I'm positive, there is no other place like it in the world. It's like nothing I have ever seen, no where I have ever been, and no where I'd rather be. As soon as we stepped onto the streets of Marrakech, we knew we were in a foreign place. It was the first time I actually felt I was in a real foreign place. Nothing looked a bit familiar to me. Every sign was written in either French or Arabic. Though I did take Arabic for a year, by the end of our 5 days in Morocco, the only thing I remembered was the alphabet. But hey, that's pretty good!
So the driver told us to just go down one of these little streets and make a few turns to find our hostel. Okaayyy… Good thing some strange man offered to help us find our way. As he was walking in the direction we needed to go, we hesitantly we started to follow behind him pushing his cart. I know, I know, this sounds like the opening scene of a horror flick. We really tried to ditch him a few times, but good thing he stuck around or we would never have found the place! After taking us through the streets, left, right, around the corner, through this ally and down that street, we made it to the riad (hostel). But wait! This is the wrong one! Ok, back again around the corner, up this street and we made it! Its on a little street with kids kicking a ball around, vespas flying by, stray cats lurking in the corners and a man that seems to be twisting yarn every time we pass by.
When we walked into the riad we were immediately welcomed as if coming into someone's home. They took our bags and sat us down. We were expecting to do the usual paperwork and be ushered to our room, but not in Marrakech. Everyone at the riad was so friendly and welcoming. They really went out of their way to make sure we enjoyed our stay. One night we wanted a little snack, but we didn't want to venture into the "circus" (that's what we started calling the main square), so we asked if there was anything. He said, of course, let me get you something. Not much longer we look around, the kitchen light is off, but moments later he walks through the door with a sandwiches and fries for us all. So nice! They were funny little sandwiches too. We think he didn't know what we would want, so he got us the "everything" one, filled with tuna, eggs, olives, veggies, rice, all sorts of stuff. They were good!
We could feel the generosity and attentiveness as soon as we arrived. Instead of paperwork when we arrived, he brought out tea. The "Whisky Moroccan" -no booze allowed- is the Moroccan mint tea that is usually served in delicate glasses full to the the brim with fresh mint and a personal tea pot of green or black brewed tea. The tea is usually mixed with plenty of sugar and then poured dramatically from an arm's height into the little cups. It is delightful and perfect to drink at any time of day. We've even taken to drinking it back in Firenze (Kristina R, you would be so proud!) They say you cannot do business in Morocco unless it is done over a pot of mint tea, and I believe it. Every seller in the souq (markets) will shout relentlessly try to lure you into their shop for "just a cup of tea and a look around for free" - but beware, should you decide to partake you will start a bargaining game of epic proportions. But this is the fun part, and its addicting, just ask Janelle.
Marrakech Me If You Can
Potent tea coursing through our veins, we decided to tackle the labyrinth of streets in the souq (market). As we approached the Djemaa el Fna (the main square connected to the souq), we were amazed by its intense energy, people, animals and music. Impromptu tables were set up throughout the square with the most bizarre array of people and activities. All in all it was like nothing anything I have ever seen before, or will ever see. Completely different, completely exotic, completely exhilarating. The entire atmosphere exploded with vitality and excitement, with people and noises, with smells in every direction. I kinda fell in love with it.
Our first stop was at one of the juice stalls. A cheery man peeked above a towering wall of stacked oranges and grapefruits as if hiding behind a citrus fortress. For a couple of dirhams, we sipped cold and refreshing glasses of fresh squeezed jus de pamplemousse, the tart pink grapefruit juice quenching our thirst.
The high pitched wail of the snake charmers' notes sang out like whiny, mesmerizing tunes, as the charmers lulled their cobras (yes, real cobras) into trances on rugs peppering the square. A dentist, or tooth-puller maybe, had set up a card table under an umbrella and proudly displayed a heap of human teeth in various states of decay and size. Have a sore tooth? Sit down and this chap will yank it right out with a nice dirty pair of pliers, as crowds of bystanders watch. Next to that, men with eager monkeys there to play with you hair, or in some cases jump all over you. One of the days we escaped the chaos and retreated to a terrace to sip some tea and people watch. So entertaining!
The souq (market) in Marrakech's old medina is a web of narrow alleys, shops and stalls. There are no discernible patterns, street names, or logic to the layout of meandering pathways, yet the locals are somehow able to navigate with ease. One man even gave us a business card as if he thought we would ever be able to find our way back to his shop. As we ventured in, I was initially overwhelmed - trying to simultaneously take in the sights and sounds while avoiding being run over by the devilishly quick vespas, donkeys, bikes and throngs of people pushing their way deeper and deeper into the abyss.
The stalls and shops displayed a huge assortment of every item imaginable in every color and pattern. Leather stalls boasted bags and belts in rich hues. Spice shops and "pharmacies" displayed mysterious baskets of herbs. We tried something that definitely cured my hostel cough, not to be confused with kennel cough. I produced this cough some time during our travels. I wasn't sick, but I couldn't kick this cough… until I tried black cumin. Cleared up my respiratory system right away. I could then better smell the fragrant ground spices were carefully constructed into conical masterpieces. Rugs, lamps, nicknacks, fabrics, all sorts of things. We even passed through the animal section where there were chickens (lots of chickens), tortoises, chameleons, and even hawks and squirrels.
Some sections of the souq were covered overhead with woven palm mats, allowing slivers of lemony filtered light into the crowded passages below, and to protect us from the rain. Wandering aimlessly through the souq, the shop owners cried out, "Hi! Hello! Come take look, free for looking", all in about 500 languages.
The souks area was like a giant monster. Once inside the mouth entrance, you get gobbled up in the treasure trove of stores. We almost expected to see magical flying carpets and genie-in-the-bottles being sold from every stall.
What we thought would be a short stroll through the market turned out to be a nearly 6 hour adventure. Once inside the maze, there is really now way out. At one point I honestly believed we would never find an exit. Turning one corner led to another whole set of stalls, winding around to even more. It would be very possible to spend at least a week getting lost in the endless maze, and we could have easily spent 3 more just taking it all in.
The first night we wanted to see what the place was like at night. We naturally ventured toward the excitement and into the heart of the beast where the streets pour into the center, the meeting place of a number of small alleys and streets culminating in an enormous, irregularly shaped square. Even before we edged close enough to see the square we could both hear and smell what we were heading toward. From quite some distance away, smoke wafted past our noses, and the dull roar of a crowd mingled with higher and more discernible tones of instrumental music. When we emerged into the square, we were stunned. By day, the place is a buffet of street performers- snake charmers, monkey tamers, musicians, each with their own entourage of hawkers and gawkers (soon to be hit up for donations) watching and listening. By night, it transforms into what seems to be the world's largest bbq - amidst bright lights and swirling smoke storms, dozens of makeshift restaurants, thrown up every night from mobile carts, grill up all sorts of stuff. We heard there was even sheep brains. Dad, you would love to try some of this crazy stuff. Janelle and I were a little wary since we heard lots of people getting sick on their trips to Morocco. One girl we met later had to go to the hospital during her stay. For the rest of the weeks she was there, it was just rice for dinner! We were lucky to have tough tummies. No issues for us! Instead of the brains, though, we opted for tajines and couscous. The tajines are just a mix of veggies, with meat if you want, with some really flavorful spices. And, of course, topped off with a cup of tea.
The central square that had so captivated our attention on the first night had become a bit tiresome and over the top even to just walk through. Janelle nick-named it "the circus". Nevertheless, I hope to find myself back in that mystical city at some point. And I will definitely be back to Morocco to see the rest of it. "You can feel the heart of the earth beating and its no wonder people love Africa".
We chatted with our roommates, reliving that first magical, bizarre introduction to Morocco. We were eager to go to bed, though. The next morning we were going to the Sahara!
29 Oct 2011 Off to the sand, a million miles from anywhere
Like two happy tortoises, our packs on our backs, we headed out the door, starting our trek to the desert. We had a little white mini bus filled with a "Moroccan salad", kind of like our sandwiches, a mixture of everything. In this case it was a mixture of nationalities. There were 2 Polish girls, 3 Koreans, 1 New Zealander with his Portuguese girlfriend, 2 Dutch girls, 2 Japanese girls, and 3 other girls from CA studying abroad in France. Oh and are Moroccan driver! It was a big group!
Moroccan time is quite similar to Italian time; a schedule, or rather a lack of, characterized by loose deadlines, lethargic pace, and a general disinterest in any task of seemingly urgent nature. However, as soon as a Moroccan gets into a vehicle, suddenly speed and time are of the essence! All of sudden everyone seems to be in such a rush to get somewhere. After anxiously waiting around for a while to leave, the car finally started up, the music was turned up and we were off!
(Here are some tunes to listen to while you read)
As we left the city limits of Marrakech, the Atlas mountains soon began to rise up on the dry horizon in front of us. Our little white mini bus zipped along, hugging the harrowing mountain switchbacks. The road seemed to be merely a thin spool of asphalt unraveling around the mountains and winding precariously along rocky face. The beauty of the mountains was breathtaking. We took pictures, but its one of those times where they don't do it justice.
62 days to Timbuktu
Just so you know, it takes a really long time to drive to the Sahara. We made quite a few stops the first day at Kasbah Ait Benhaddou, where we had a look at how Berber families live together. The Berbers, the indigenous people of North Africa, are so friendly and welcoming, always with a smile. They have strong connections with their families, often forming their own communities with their relatives, cooperating together in solidarity. Every Berber we met had a passion for life and for teaching visitors about their culture. Their connection to the earth and to nature was inspiring. Their hospitality is like non I have ever experienced. They told us that we are "free to come back anytime, like a bird. The doors to our homes are always open".
After going through the mountains, we went hours without seeing anything, the landscape similar to that of Arizona. Then we'd pass through a little Berber town, like a little oasis in the middle of nowhere. At one of them there was a car broken down, blocking the road, and it seemed that the whole town was on the streets trying to help them out. At another we saw a blur of kids playing in the streets, women gathering alfalfa while others led donkeys along the paths, while still others washing clothes stream. Or people were just hanging out, selling their pottery and other goods.
The first night we stayed at a little hotel in one of the towns in the gorge. We were between two mountains, next to a river running through them. When it was dark enough Janelle and I climbed to the terrace to look at the stars. So many, yet only a preview of what we would see the next night, even further from any lights and pollution at all. It was there that we looked at a map and I realized it was the first time I actually had no idea of where I was.
After being on the road for so long, I began to wonder when the sand would start! On the second day there seemed to still be mountains in every direction. The land is getting a little flatter, so maybe we'll be there soon…
It was on that afternoon that we stopped at one of the agricultural plots and we were welcomed into one of the homes. After being served tea, Fatima, one of the women, demonstrated the process of making yarn from wool or silk and created beautifully colored rugs. She said it takes about 9 months to make one, working only a couple hours a day on each of them. The way of lie here is fascinating, so different than anywhere else I have been. Religion plays a major factor in their daily life, their conduct, dress, and way of life. Even when we were driving, our driver somehow knew exactly when Adhan, the Islamic call to prayer, was. It rings out from mosques 5 times a day in Muslim communities. In Marrakech we heard it frequently from the loudspeakers of the minaret.
Sand, Sky, Stars, and Silence “Travel is glamorous only in retrospect.” – Paul Theroux
The romance of riding a camel (technically they were dromedaries, with only 1 hump, but I'll just say camels) into the desert sunset quickly faded. At first I was thinking this is way better than riding any ol' horse, and not as scary! The whole time I kept thinking, Alright…I'm on a camel. In the desert. In Africa. AWESOME! As we went further into the sand, the sun disappeared below the horizon. We watched as thousands of tiny pin pricks left the dark sky glowing with starlight. I had ever seen a sky so clear and bright as that night. Miles from any source of light pollution, the stars seemed amplified and truly spectacular. The Milky Way seemed to be a tear in the sky, letting light through in the middle. We rode about 2 hours, 7km, into the desert, just 30 km from the Algerian border and only 62 days on camel to Timbuktu. Though I'm not sure how anyone could ride a camel for that long; they are really uncomfortable! (Sadly it was at this point that my camera died)
We made our way to a camp, surrounded by sand as far as you could see in every direction.
After dinner (lots of bread!) we all gathered up around the fire under the open sky. The group of Berbers, whipped out some drums and sang songs in their language as we listened, transfixed. They seemed genuinely happy, smiling, singing and clapping. After trying to teach a few songs from our cultures, we scattered to the sand. Janelle and I started our attempt to climb the tallest dune we could find. A few steps in we though maybe it would've been a good idea to let our food digest. With every 3 steps forward it was 1 more back, slipping down the sand. We were huffing and puffing, then Mohammad, one of our hosts, grabbed my hand and said, "Come on, we're going to the top!". Before I knew it we were running up the incline, or more like he was running and I was doing everything I could not to loose my dinner. But we made it! I collapsed at the peak. Soon Janelle was reunited too. We lay in the sand, staring at the sky for who knows how long. It was so quiet, peaceful. Not very dark though. The stars lit up the sand that surrounded us. We pretty much felt like we were the only people in the universe. As the temperature dropped, we made our way back down to the tents. Of all the places I have slept, the Sahara Desert will go down as the most surreal, most memorable, most impressive and the most brilliant of all places. It was fantastic.
"Le premier soir, je me suis donc endormi sur la sable, a mille milles de toute terre habitée" ~ Saint-Exupéry
(The first night I went to sleep on the sand, a thousand miles from any human habitation)
Sadly, we had to make the journey back to Marrakech the next day. As we rode our camels back through the sand, we could hear only their footsteps as the sun was rising. Back in the car, we retraced our path to "The Red City". Marrakech is love at first sight, smell, sound, and smile. I can't wait to go back someday.
