The road between Rabat and Fez is quite different than any other part of the country that I have seen thus far. While much of the country reminds me of California (with red hills and dusty plains,) here it looks more like the Negev Desert, in southern Israel. Sand-blasted hills, an occasional farm compound, and few other signs of life along the main road until, suddenly, civilization springs forth at the feet of a massive set of hills.
The Road to Fez
Coming into Fez, I see for the first time a building more than about four stories tall. It's still being built, but somehow it was still a welcome sign when that type of construction is what you're used to back home.
Then we come to the main boulevard, and suddenly into a whole other world. This type of modernization was something I think none of us really expected to find in this country, and I can safely suggest I have never seen this type of city planning anywhere in the United States. From the pictures, you can see what I mean. Thinking hard, it reminds me of some places in Florida where palm trees line the streets, but never in quite this fashion. The King of Morocco's wife is from Fez, so apparently Fez has not always looked like this, but all I can say is "wow..."
We eventually reach the Dar Chebab, the youth center, and it's nestled in a busy portion of town. We get our introduction to the staff that will be training us for the next ten weeks, and once we settle in we take part in an activity called "community mapping." This is a process where you walk around your new community and, quite literally, draw a map and label important looking buildings or resources as you go along. Usually you stick to the main streets, but from my 30 minute journey around Fez, I would gather there was quite a bit down the side streets that we missed. We saw everything from cafés to teleboutiques (cell phone shops) to cybers to Hanuts to private schools, and even heard mention of a giant supermarket/mini-mall somewhere in the area. Believe me, you'll hear more about that one later.
Soon after we get back is sunset, and our first ever L-ftur. At that point, I mightily enjoyed the hrra and the assortment of oddities as this was my first truly Moroccan meal. And for the first (and only) time I tried dates. It seemed apparent at the table that most people were done in for the evening, despite us having free time right after dinner. At this point I should clarify, during Ramadan we are under curfew during the hours of L-ftur (the half-hour before sunset and the first hour afterwards) while in Fez, so it is approaching 8pm and is fully dark by the time we're able to go back out and explore on our own.
I'm not tired for some reason, and with two other guys decided we would try to find the first of the Fez mdinas. That's right, Fez is so large it has two historic walled city centers. The one nearest to us was also the home of one of King Mohammed VI's royal palaces. Ironically, the nearest other building is McDonald's, and that gets its own entry at some point. Reminded me of how in Egypt, the first building at the base of the Pyramids is a Pizza Hut (which also is in Morocco.)
Anyways, took us a while to get there and we didn't bring any cameras but we were still pretty pumped to be the first people in our group to get a look at the mdina. Unbeknownst to us, adventure of the highest quality awaited us!
You can enter the mdina one of two ways: through the old Jewish Quarter, or straight through the center of the walled city via a modern road. That night, we chose the Jewish Quarter without knowing where in the heck we were, having been smart enough to attempt to navigate without a map. One of the other guys had explored the Rabat mdina to some depth, and even he was floored by the absolute change in atmosphere once you step through the first archway. Having walked through the narrow markets of the Old City in Jerusalem (see below) that was what I was first reminded of, but somehow here in Fez everything seemed both bigger and somehow more dense at the same time.
We got quite a ways through the streets and then seemed near an impasse when suddenly we hear someone asking us, "English? English?" We turn around and a man is excitedly gesturing for us to come over and talk to him.
"I am Aziz. You are English? American?" he asks us. We all look at each other before deciding he looks like a decent enough person to stop to talk with. He welcomes us to Morocco easily a dozen times, and after learning we're here with the Peace Corps, invites us into his shop, which is through a short alleyway off the main street.
"Come, sit, it is time you learned of the famous Moroccan hospitality," he tells us. In the fairest sense, Moroccan hospitality usually means lots of tea and snacks and hours of storytelling...and we only have a few minutes before we need to be getting back for the night. We say we need to be going in a few minutes, and Aziz replies, "You are sure you do not want whiskey?"
I look sideways at the other guys, kind of one of those expressions that questions why a gorgeous woman at a bar would come up to you out of nowhere and offer to go home and have sex with you.
Then Aziz laughs. "Ah, that is what we call tea here! Moroccan whiskey!"
We all laugh in turn and have to politely decline. Before we can get up to go, Aziz starts telling us about how his brother runs a business where he takes tourists out to the desert on camel trips. He tells us to make sure we bring our friends back to him if they are interested, and the like. As cool as a camel trip into the desert really does sound, a few minutes later we're back onto the main street and wanting to continue our journey into the mdina.
At this point, however, we're not so sure where we are, but in the spirit of adventure we decide to keep going forward (and thus eventually make a giant circle around the old city since the road seems to be slightly curving the whole time) and try to see everything. We do pass after a few more minutes what appears to be the very back of the city, with a giant entrance to the palace off to the side. We're emboldened, we're afraid we're running late, and we're silly Americans. We plunge on ahead.
And promptly, the soukh section of the mdina ends and we end up clambering around a residential portion of the old city. With no map, in the middle of the night, and not knowing more than a half-dozen words of Darija between the three of us.
Logic at this point is telling us to keep to the largest streets because they probably lead somewhere. But then we get to a point where everything just keeps getting smaller. And just when we've about convinced ourselves to turn around...
"Aji! Aji!" a little boy is calling out to us and waving us over. He knows we're lost. We gesture wildly with our hands about wanting to get out of the mdina, and eventually he gets it, and says, "outside?" We get excited, he gets excited and calls over his little brother. Then we point back the way we came, and he shakes us off, "no, this way!"
Of course, he wants to lead us further into the mdina, into those small alleyways.
Somewhat reluctantly we start following. Along the way, we get out of him that his name is Mohammed, but the only other words he can say in English are "football! David Beckham!" His little brother is Rashid, but he doesn't speak a word of English, so we just blunder along talking at them in English, and they're talking at us in Darija. A merry old time.
After a few minutes, I start to notice that as the streets are becoming narrower, there are fewer lights. And then the buildings start to get a bit more dilapidated, and here and there entire sections of walls are held up by T-beams. And little kids are pointing at us, staring and laughing as Mohammed and his little brother guide us who-knows-where. And after much further, people are looking out of windows and doorways at us like, "why are you in our home?"
While one of the guys is up chatting away with Mohammed, or at least trying to, I'm looking at the other one. At this point we're both thinking, "holy shit, we're about to get knifed in a dark alley and tomorrow morning somebody will be reading about us and going 'oh, those stupid Americans...'"
And then, suddenly, the mdina ends. Really, right out of nowhere. The street opened up, and we were at the far wall, by a giant taxi stand. We thank the little boys and eventually get out to a main boulevard. With cars and other glorious signs of technology. Sweet.
Our adventure is nowhere near over, however. We continue along the sidewalk on the outside of the walls to the mdina, and across the street there is nothing whatsoever. We're clearly at a different entrance, but my sense of direction is as I like to claim quite impeccable. We keep going and going along this wall, and finally hit a corner, turn around it, and...
More boulevard. More city walls. No sign of city life. Crap.
We keep going, and going, and going. We've been walking along these walls for easily what seems to be over half-an-hour, and then we get to a corner, turn around it, and...
More boulevard. More city walls. Crap. Thanks, Mohammed, for depositing us at the ass-back end of the city. But this time, there are a lot more cars. And ahead, lights! We eventually come to yet another corner and there is a bridge in front of us, and to the left more of the same city walls and another boulevard. Every ounce of the human map is telling me to go straight, away from the city walls and under the bridge towards a set of buildings. The other guys are telling me I'm full of it, but I get more and more convinced.
Eventually we go forward like the human map suggests. A few minutes later we're at a city intersection and already more at ease. And then I see a sign. And I rejoice. We're at the far corner of the section of town my community mapping group sketched out earlier! The other guys are still not convinced, until from memory I start calling out what buildings are coming up. And then we're nearly home, and walking faster, and finally back to the Dar Chebab.
It's 9:30. For our first true adventure in the city, we were only gone for an hour and a half. And inside, everyone is getting ready for their first second dinner of Ramadan. And I can already smell the Moroccan whiskey brewing.
1 comment:
What a great story. Thanks for keeping us in the loop!
Stay safe.
Post a Comment