Morocco page 5

We got up early, cleaned up a bit and headed out to the marketplace. This is a crazy place man, so many people.
There were hundreds of small carts and stalls; men selling all kinds of fruits, vegetables and spices, as well as several types of pottery and brass items, carpets, clothing, jewelry, you name it and you can buy it here.
There were ridiculous starting prices for everything, but you barter for a better price on everything, you never pay the asking price, never.

As we walked around the marketplace vendors would grab you by the arm and try to drag you into their stall and sell you their wares.
They would swarm around you, all talking at once, insisting they had the best price for anything you want.
Their sales technique was more than we've ever had to deal with, and we weren't accustomed to doing business in this manner, but you learn real quick, because you have to.

Mel and I each bought a djellaba, [a hooded body length cloak] the guy wanted about a 150 or 200 Dhm, we bartered him down to 40 Dhm [about $10]
We headed to another area of the Medina where there were more shops down in the winding alleyways.

At this point another kid has now attached himself to us and wanted to guide us down into the Medina. We didn't ask for his help and we didn't want it so we told him no, but he just hung in there.
As we made our way around, the kid followed and tried to engage us, we ignored him hoping he would just go away, no such luck.

We watched some wood workers making all kinds of artifacts using these antique foot operated belt and pulley lathes, metal artisans tapping designs in urns and plates made of brass, copper and pewter, it was all pretty cool.
Eve was looking to buy a set of shish kabob skewers. I really didn't know why she wanted them; I think she just wanted to take part in the bartering experience; I could never remember a time when we ever used them.
The guy wanted 12 Dhm, she bartered down to four Dhm, it was a good deal.

We started to head out of the Medina, the kid was still with us even though we had completely ignored him the whole time. We were just about out and he says, "I want money",
I didn't want to give him anything and told him to fuck off because we didn't ask for his help, but he kept on bugging us and was now beginning to create a scene; I finally caved.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out about 50 or so francs to give him, he took it, looked at it and said "fuck you", and threw it in my face.
My first reaction was to grab the little prick by the throat and smack the shit out of him, but given where we were that might have got me killed.

By this time a couple more kids got in the mix and yelling that they were going to get the police because we wouldn't pay; but this was only after they picked up the money the first kid threw in my face.
I was so fucking pissed off and told him he was just a fucking ungrateful little prick. I turned on my heel and walked away into the crowd muttering to myself about what a fucking asshole he was...Yeah, I was pretty pissed off.

We continued walking around the marketplace taking in all the various activities. There were a few groups of local ethnic dance troupes displaying their talents, acrobats doing some tumbling routines, groups of snake charmers encouraging their cobras to entertain the onlookers.
Also in the mix were several brightly dressed water bearers moving through the crowd selling cups of cool fresh water for just a few francs.

Even though our focus was on trying to take in the entertainment going on around us; the vendors kept trying to get us into the shops to buy stuff we didn't want or need.
Now all we were interested in at the moment was getting something to eat.

Somewhere along the way within the huge mass of people we lost track of Al. So now the remaining four of us moved on by ourselves.
We stopped at a small cafe along the edge of the Medina, had some fries, bread and coffee.
The coffee was horrible, espresso, way too strong, everything else was okay.
Just than we saw Al walking by, I ran out to get him, now we're back to five again. We went back to the hotel and just hung out for a couple of hours because it had started to rain again.

It's now early evening, were going back to the marketplace to partake in all the human activity.
Everyone seemed to be engaged in a feeding frenzy; those of us that weren't yet engaged were just waiting for an empty spot at the trough for a good tasty cheap dinner.

Off in the distance you could hear the echoing chants chants chants of the Imam's calling the faithful to the mosque for evening prayers; this is something that goes on several times every day, everywhere.

On our walks over the next few days we had seen some rather disturbing sights. There were lots of very elderly people in the alleyways dressed in dirty rags and squatted down on the ground with arms outreached, faces grimacing, begging and pleading for you to give them money.
Groups of filthy little children swarming around you tugging at your sleeves, begging for anything you would be willing to give.
It was hard to see this and not feel your heartstrings being pulled. I could have never imagined poverty and begging on such a scale, to actually see it first hand does something you.
I had a really tough time dealing with how this was effecting me emotionally......

It should also be noted that we had been told that is was important to understand a basic street savvy fact, and that fact is:
If you give money to a beggar who is in a group with other beggars, which was the case in most of the alleyways, in only a few seconds you would be surrounded by dozens of them all tugging and pulling at you, wanting you to give them money also.
This would rapidly become a situation very difficult to get away from, so as difficult as it is to ignore what's right in front of you, and having to be responsible for your own safety, you just walk on by and don't give.
This whole scene was very hard for me to learn to accept.

Poverty resulting in begging has always been a cultural part of life ever since their very beginning.
The local people don't see the horror in that we do, to them its just part of everyday life. They bank on the fact that it's not part of our everyday life in the hope that you'll give them money.

This by far had the greatest culture shock impact on me, I hated seeing it; but it's everywhere, and you can't get away from it no matter where you go. You just have to accept it and learn to live with it, because you know you can't do anything about it.

As we made our way across the marketplace toward the streets we were hassled by young boys, some on foot, some on bikes doing circles around us, asking for money and cigarettes. This didn't trouble me, it just annoyed me; just ignore them and they'll go away, but only until the next time.

We're out on the streets now, just a few blocks away from the Medina on a boulevard that was lined with orange trees on both sides, this is such a beautiful spot. We walked around for awhile just sightseeing. Mel picked an orange from one of the trees but it was way too sour to eat.
It was beginning to get dark now so we headed back to our hotel.

Our hotel was constructed in a square called a Riad; originally it had no windows on the outside walls and only one door on the outside of the building; this was a security measure that dated back to the warring tribal days.
The inside walls of the rooms had windows and a couple of doors that opened into a courtyard which was surrounded by the building.

Inside the courtyard was a lawn and a large orange tree. In this way the occupants were able to enjoy the out of doors without ever having to leave the security of the building. if we'd had a window we could have picked fruit right from our room.
The only openings we had were some holes in the ceiling, and I remember there were a few.

The rooms were long and quite narrow with very high ceilings and a small air vent near the top. There was a community bathroom at the end of a long corridor.
It had a stand up toilet platform.
The shower if I remember correctly consisted of a pipe that stuck through a hole in the wall, if it was raining you could shower; the temperature of the rain determined whether it would be a cold or colder shower, no hot shower.

Well, there may have also been a reservoir on the roof for when it wasn't raining, but it's just one of those details I don't recall.
The building itself was about 600 years old, as was the plumbing.

The next day we didn't get up until almost noon, we all went out to get more travelers cheques exchanged but the bank was closed for lunch.
At the door were two soldiers standing guard, both holding old style Thompson sub-machine guns; this was the norm at all banks, government buildings and post offices.

We now had some time to kill so we headed to the French restaurant for lunch. We had eggs and fries. The eggs weren't cooked very well and were quite greasy. After eating we went back to the bank and got money exchanged.

I started feeling sick from the greasy under cooked eggs. We went back to the hotel and I got sick as a dog. Eve stayed at the hotel with me and the others went back to the marketplace.
Later that evening Eve went out with the rest of the gang to the market for dinner. They sat in a stall and had kabebs with bread and mint tea, and as per usual, it was good and cheap.
Eve brought some food back for me when they returned but I don't remember what it was, but I managed to keep it down.
It's time to go to sleep, hopefully I'll feel better in the morning.

It's now morning, and I do feel better, much better. Got up, got dressed and headed out into the maze of alleyways that lead to the marketplace and streets.
None of us have had shower for three or four days, but none of us were brave enough to use the community shower even though we all so desperately needed one.

Eve and I decided to go to one of the more up scale hotels in the area for a night. We all walked over to the 'Hotel la Marrakesh, a very nice place, expensive by Moroccan standards, $16. a night.
We got a room on the fourth floor. Once we got settled we were going to bring everyone else up for a shower.
Just then the phone rang which really surprised us. It was Mel, he was in the lobby, he said they wouldn't let visitors into our room.
We went down to talk to them for a few minutes, told him, hey, sorry man, then they left and we went back upstairs to our room and a really comfortable bed.

Shortly thereafter there was a knock at our door, I thought it was a hotel person.
I opened the door and it was the gang. They had found a side door that was unlocked so they came in and sneaked up to our room.
Al had brought a bottle of wine, a nice gesture, but it was so awful we only drank enough for a taste.

Everyone took advantage of the the sit down toilet, the first one we had seen since we got to Morocco, it was great. Never thought I'd get so excited about a toilet, but I did, we all did.
We all had a much needed shower, hung out for awhile and smoked some hash. Some time later they all left, and we took a nap.

It's dinner time. Eve and I went to the dining room and were a bit stunned when we walked in. There were 30 or 40 people in the dining room. All the women wore nice dresses and heels, almost all the men had suits and ties, the ones that didn't, wore open neck shirts and dinner jackets.
Then there was us, Eve with her running shoes, checkered slacks, hippie hair and floppy hat; me with blue jeans, sneakers, long hair, my leather hat and jean jacket; what a contrast we were.
We looked so completely out of place that I'm sure it looked quite comical. We also got some not so pleasant looks from a few patrons; but we didn't give a shit; fuck'em, our money was just as good as their's.

We had a real good dinner, it was expensive but I didn't care. After dinner we went for a walk around the neighborhood.
We didn't venture too far because the people out and about were mostly young local guys and I just didn't want to be a target tonight, so we ended up going back to our room and crashed out for the night.

First thing in the morning we had another shower; we didn't know when we were going to get another one so we took advantage of it. I was also great to spend the night sleeping in a nice comfortable bed.
We gathered up our gear, checked out and headed back to Hotel du Sud and hooked up with everyone else.

This was going to be our last day in Marrakesh. We went to the bus station to get tickets to Agadir. The bus wasn't leaving until 6:30 so we had most of the day to kill; so it's back to the marketplace.

We cruised around in the stalls and shops. Eve got a deal on a nice leather purse. Her and the vendor had been working each other for a better price, in the end, she got it for 27 Dhm [7 bucks] another real good deal.
We hung out for a couple hours than back to du Sud.
It was soon time to catch the bus. We gathered everything up, probably smoked the last of our hash and headed off to the station.

Without a doubt, Marrakesh is the most exciting city I've ever seen. For me, our stay there was like something out of an Arabian Nights adventure; but no genie or magic carpet.
I'll never forget how great it was...a total blast...and of course, the best part for me was riding on the Marrakesh Express; it was so awesome man. An experience I'll remember forever.

On to our next stop, Agadir


Page #5

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