Arabian Nights

… like Arabian Days, more often than not, are hotter than hot, in a lot of good ways…

It even said Aladdin...

As I arrived in Morocco in the early evening (crossing over the Mediterranean for my first ever glimpse of Africa!), I could hear Aladdin lyrics playing in my head.  Though I have no idea if the Disney movie was supposed to be set in Morocco, in the city of Marrakesh (or Marrakech, or راكش, depending on what sign you read), there is a bustling market, which is very similar to some of the opening scenes.  This market, which is made up many individual stands (the souks), is full of men trying to sell you everything ranging from Aladdin slippers and lamps to traditional jewelry to elaborate dresses to cheap tshirts to leather goods which in all likelihood will never completely lose the strong scent of goat.  Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of the maze of shops so you’re going to have to imagine the animated version and eventually go check it out yourself!  

Some of the craziness

A bus from the airport took me to the center square, Djemma el Fna.  The city was beautiful by night, but I have to admit that I was 100% overwhelmed upon reaching the Djemma el Fna!  There were people milling about everywhere and the combination of lights in the souks and foodstands with smoke from who knows what created kind of a mystical haze that covered everything and made it all the more difficult to determine what was going on where.  My directions, which had seemed so simple when I printed them off the internet, didn’t make the slightest bit of sense, as few of the streets had visible labels at all, and those that did were much more likely to be marked in Arabic than French.  By carefully choosing my targets (a woman who looked to be about 25 years old and a little girl that was between 8 and 12), I was able to ask for directions without telling some creepy stranger where I was going to be staying OR having someone offer to walk me all the way there (which would require a hefty tip at the final destination, of course).  At my hostel, I met up with three friends and fellow assistants: Jess and Jenny from the states and Kyle from Canada.  

Some of them displayed dishes for passers-by to check out

Over the course of our several days in Marrakech at the beginning and the end of the Morocco experience, we ate at any number of little stands and restaurants.  However, every single restaurant offered almost exactly the same thing: Tangine, Couscous, and Brochettes.  (Brochettes are basically kebabs- everything that’s not in Arabic is in French).  The options for each one of these three items include vegetarian, chicken, beef, fish, and maybe another animal or two.  I’m pretty sure that sheep brain and various byproducts of goat were available if you were interested as well.  The bright side: none of these options was very expensive, with the majority of meals costing between 2 and 6 euros, including drinks.  The not-so-bright side: not a ton of variety… the food at every stand literally tasted the same, and each stand has at least one man designated to flag you down and assure you that “This is the best food in Marrakech!  I give you good deal.  Free juice!” and to forcefully encourage you to “Come, come, sit down!” if you seem the least bit interested or to redouble efforts and increase volume if it seems like you’re not interested and may check out the next place.  

Kyle checking out some of the dried fruits

As a ‘French’ tourist (The majority of foreigners seemed to be French, probably due to the prevalence of French language-speaking and the close proximity to Europe, so native always assumed that’s where we were from), we were also seen as perfect targets for everyone trying to make some extra money- from people in legitimate stands selling beautiful wares to women and little children sort of selling biscuits or travel packages of tissues and sort of just begging for “Un dirham? Un dirham?”  The problem with eating in the center of all this hustle and bustle is that you’re no longer a moving target, and they can come up and launch their assault while you’re a captive audience.  Occasionally someone who worked at the ‘restaurant’ would shoo them away, but otherwise we just got good at repeating ourselves: “No, merci.  No, thank you.  No.  No.  No.  No!”  

Saadi tombs

Kyle posing with our 'pool'

During the days, we set out, walking purposefully ahead and keeping our eyes forward to avoid being guilted into stopping and checking out the goods for sale, we mostly just wandered around the city trying to find things that were listed as ‘interesting’ on the town map.  We did see some neat palace ruins, where I was extremely impressed with the intricacy of the tile patterns on walls, floors, and ceilings and also found the Saadian tombs after some stellar searching and map-reading.  Kyle and I were interested in what looked to be beautiful palace gardens and pools over on the outskirts of town, and ended up going on a very long walk through some semi-sketchy areas only to find an empty, dusty field where in all likelihood we weren’t supposed to visit, judging by the walls surrounding the courtyard and the heavy metal gate.  One of the gates was broken in, so we decided to take a minute and document the ‘lovely’ site since we’d made the trip out.  Lesson learned: Objects on map may be smaller and less important and further away than they appear :)  

Last but definitely NOT least was one of my favorite part of Marrakesh- the delicious orange juice!  For a mere 4 dirham (50 cents), you could buy a full glass of orange (or grapefruit, depending on your preference) juice that was squeezed right before your very eyes.  Talk about a great way to start your morning and end your evening!!  After several days of amazing juice and other overwhelming sensory experiences, I left Marrakech and we hopped on a bus to the coastal city of Agadir.  Au revoir, Aladdin :)

Me with some of those elaborate tile patterns