am staying in costs less than the hostel I was to stay in, which is full
anyway. I might go there later to hang out and try to meet some folks –
it has been a bit lonely – though I am getting bolder about approaching
people who look like travelers, like me. Last night I attached myself to
a group of Slovakian climbers who were walking around, but they were
the only folks my age who didn’t look like Moroccans. I might try for
Meknes tomorrow, though their hostel is also full.
I have still been unable to navigate this place – I made a sort of run at
a main square type thing this morning – fountains and the like – on
the opposite end of the medina from my hotel and had little luck. I
ended up approaching two American students who were going to a
square, though not the one I hoped for. There has been no ‘not-lost’
for me, only lost (that is the reason for the password – the medina
entrance where I am staying – I ask, get a direction, walk for a while
and ask again). No landmarks visible over the buildings which raise 2
to 6 stories above me and are about four feet apart. From the square
I quickly became lost again, wandering next to some kind of palace
where I asked a guard where we were. He seemed to give me directions
somewhere, I understood that at the end he asked if I understood, to
which I said ‘uhhhhh.’ He walked with me about 100 yards and pointed
the same way as before. This was a more comfortable open area, but
still there is no indication of where anything is until you are right on top
of it. In the medina, its curve curve fork curve left opening left opening
curve fork then small open square with four or five similar paths leading
out. No signs on anything, even in squiggly. And every ten feet there is
a giant door to a little shop selling all kinds of things, sometimes though
not often exactly what I am hoping for, which is usually some kind of
snack or a bottle of water.
The folks here are extremely friendly, as I mentioned, but it is tough to
be open to it because every few minutes someone tries to give you a
tour (which if you want to see anything specific is essential). And as the
guide book and my experience yesterday attest, this is great until the
tour ends with a ‘tour’ of a rug shop. Basically you get told that it is only
a tour, hospitality, and they parade out their rugs, which do you like
best? And at the end it feels like you demanded to see all their rugs and
then want to storm out in a huff, rather than having meekly listening to
stories and dirty anecdotes about the aphrodisial qualities of mint tea.
However, much more often someone volunteers the direction to the
tanneries, or says ‘no, sir, nothing down there’ about a little street or
derb I am about to wander into. Everyone when asked is more or less
happy to give directions – I found that trying to approach people who
aren’t approaching me has worked out the best.
Later tonight – enjoyed dinner with a friend I met at a café – basically I
walked up to her and asked if she spoke English and could I join her?
She invited me to meet for dinner which I gladly accepted, finally
something I could plan for and do! Later we walked around and I
bought a gd bag. Turns out I was well trained by the rug sales person –
offer low and seem disinterested. What I could have gotten the bag for
I don’t know, but it felt basically like he and I were lying to each other
the whole time – I can only go so high, he so low, and we both broke
those. A 550 dirham bag, I offered 100, we settled at 200, about 30
dollars. I think it is a decent bag, camel leather of all things, and I mostly
feel good about it. If you are going to shop in a culture like this, I
suggest training a few times – go in without intending to buy, haggle for
a while, and walk out. 950 as a hard offer soon becomes 200, and an
offended shop keeper turns extremely friendly and back on a whim.
Like playing the stockmarket, no emotions. I’m hearing lots of not so
great things about Marrakesh, and not sure where to go next in my
travels of Morocco. Might head to Meknes tomorrow, planning on
skipping Rabat, maybe Marrakesh as well, and getting to some smaller
towns, off the train line. Julie, my kiwi Fes buddy, invited me to have
another walk around tomorrow, but I’m thinking I’m ready for
something new. We’ll see. Feeling a bit more settled, spending more
money than I had hoped, but having more fun. Again, sorry for
disjointed photos, just trying to get them online. I am working on being
more bold with photos, many people dont like having their photo taken,
including the butcher selling bull testicles. Next time I hope!
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| Water Clock - somehow the 12 windows tell the time |
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| Look closely ... |
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