Like a Rolling Stone
Today was one of those never-to-forget days. As reported earlier, I started with the Cyber Park which was quite pleasant especially in the back where the plantings are near the ancient ochre-colored fortification walls that basically surround the medina. I was then headed for the Jacques Majorelle (French painter who lived in Marrakesh during 20th century and painted local scenes) home and gardens. It was a nice walk following the ramparts and entering the new section of the city and I was soon involved in a number of diversions.
I found a local outdoor produce market and the fruits and vegetables were very beautiful. The markets are very busy leading up to Ramadan. I got back on track until I stumbled upon the date souk where boxes fo dried dates of many varieties are sold. They also sell strings of dried figs and a second section had an amazing selection of dried beans and grains. Many vendors were quite pleased to have me photograph their products and they seemed quite happy to have a tourist come through. I was given enough samples to the point where I worried about causing an internal problem. Happy to say that I have survived. A truck came through and there was no room for it. Anyone nearby had to scramble into the stalls and the vendors had to pull in their bags of grains. A lot of yelling was going on and I lined up a great photo of the truck squeezing through. Just as I was taking the photo an older woman in full Islamic regalia slipped between me and the truck. When she heard the camera she started to go nuts. I immediately deleted the photo and showed her that it was gone. She started screaming and whincing as if seeing a photo on the camera’s screen was poisnous. I tried to get her to understand what I did with plenty of apologies thrown in. I then waited for the truck to move (where she thought she was going is still a mystery to me). Unfortunately, she continued her screaming and I became a little worried that she was going to convince the men to rise up against me. They ignored her. Finally, after having her follow me a bit with more raving, I decided enough was enough and let her know I thought she should shut up. I was told the older women here can be pretty hardcore and quite feisty and I guess she fully demonstrated that.
I made it to the Majorelle Gardens and found one of the nicest public gardens I have ever seen. It is known for its 1800 species of cacti and 400 species of palms as well as the buildings, fountains and pottery that are painted in bright blues, yellows and other colors and contrast so well with the mature plants. Another Moroccan visual feast galore. And some great photographic opportunities that I fully exploited. I spent two hours in the gardens, museum and cafe. The highlight in the museum is Majorelle’s original paintings of local berber towns, homes and people. Just fantastic. I am quite convinced now that anyone coming to Morocco for the first time should start in Marrakesh and ease themselves from Western world into this exotic one.
I was walking back towards the old medina when I was approached by Abdul Mohammad Mustafa (I told him he would be Bob Smith in America). He is a Berber who speaks excellent English and he offered his touring services. I decided to go with it since he had some interesting places to see in the medina which I knew nothing about. We went to a beautiful mosque and mausoleum first by winding through ancient alleys some of which have structures covering them. The architecture and people along the way are fascinating. I could not enter the mosque since I am an Infidel, but the square within is nice and not a place I would normally enter on my own. We then went to see craftsman at work in their souks where locals by goods. No tourists in sight. I was well-received by all with handshakes, smiles and “bon jours”. The best artisan was a man making giant wood doors with amazingly complex Moorish designs carved in the panels using just a chisel.
We then visited a Berber market quite similar to a flea market except it is surrounded by the rampart walls. That led to a Berber carpet shop. I told them I had no intention of buying… homeless thing again. Mohammad, the Saharan Blue Man who owns the shop, told me that we are both rolling stones (his tradition would be nomadic) and that a Berber always carries a carpet with him. Before I continue, you have to picture Mohammad as the exact likeness of Eddie Murphy in Coming to America – And I do mean exact! I confirmed that he is a Blue Man and he said he is a multi-colored man with blue clothes, brown skin (black as can be from my view) and white heart. I was laughing thinking about the “Rolling Again” comment in yesterday’s blog entry as well as this white heart business. They demonstrated how compact the carpet rolls up for travel for those of us rolling along. They started to bring out the carpets and I loved a blue one with simple Berber geometric shapes. I asked the price and he wrote down 6400 (800 dollars). He asked me to write down my offer and I told him that I did not care to insult him. He said there would be no insult and if we can’t agree in the end then we separate smiling… the laughs would be good enough. So, I honestly felt $150 was a good price and wrote 1200. Mohammad howled and told me I must be a Berber. He then made a matrix with six boxes in two columns. He wrote 6400 and 1200 in the first row and crossed them out. He then wrote 5600 in the second row and handed me the paper. I wrote 1200 again in my box. More howling. He wrote 3400 in his final box and I followed with 1200 again. He accepted my offer. I was quite pleased and he seemed quite happy, too.
Mohammad also tried to sell me some smelly roots that he claimed is an aphrodisiac. I told him I have no woman so I did not need that. He told me it is good for my heart, too. No thanks! Finally, he told me it is good for me for lonely nights! Really, no thanks, Mohammad!!!
Abdul took me to some other sections and then we went to his house. He yelled out some orders for the woman to follow and she brought tea. His demands on the woman led me to understand why the older women can be so nasty. I thanked her every opportunity I got. He then pulled out some Moroccan hashish and rolled it in a tobacco cigarette. Yes, I smoked a little. When in Rome… I paid Abdul for his tour services, said goodbye and enjoyed the walk back through the medina. A perfect little Marrakesh day topped off with another great tajine for dinner with some of the group.
Tags: Africa, Morocco, Travel
vagabondrick
Hi Rick. What fantastic experiences in the market. Is Randy still with you? I had knee surgery 31 Aug and am just getting back to the senior center where the computer is. All my love and best wishes