Fes, Plunging Head-First into Moroccan Culture

by annie

Every Thursday night, single and divorced women gather on the bridge near the watermill to throw food into the stream below. They believe a genie lives under the bridge and make offerings so she will grant their wishes, usually involving a husband in the future. They burn candles and dried flowers in a corner and Adil scoffs at their beliefs. He believes in God, he tells me, but not genies.

Adil is the super-entrepreneur that owns the guest house we stayed in. He also runs a desert excursion business, a carpet shop, a pottery shop and a jewlery shop. He's encouraged us to take up various business schemes, go on one of his desert treks or sell his carpets for profit in the States. We soon tired of his propositions. At 27, he appears to be the primary earner for his large family, including two sisters, 3 brothers and his parents at the very least. Little kids and other family members are always around. Six or seven of them sleep in one room of the guesthouse and Adil's father has three wives.

Although one million people live in Fes, we continue to run into familiar faces. A carpet salesman who interpreted my henna design one day, showed up to harass the owner of a restaurant near our guesthouse the next day. The spice shop owner who gave us whiffs of amber, musk, Moroccan patchouli, orange blossom water and anise turned up at our favorite harira stall later that afternoon. A clothing salesman we had encountered one day guided me towards the w.c. the following day. People here are kind and warm-hearted, oftentimes stopping us in the street to welcome us, showing us the way when we are lost, shouting "Obama!!" when they learn we're American, buying us fresh mint tea and sharing blankets on the bus. It has been extremely easy to meet people and share a conversation over a bowl of harira, a cup of Moroccan tea, or a walk in the streets. A lot of people speak English, in addition to 4 or 5 other languages. Some people want compensation for their kindness, and it's hard to know the difference. In the medina, unofficial tour guides, as young as six or seven descended upon us on our first day in the medina and we found it difficult to say no or convince them to leave our side. We succumbed to significant frustration and I surprised myself on a few ocassions by my own reactions to difficult situations. Needless to say, it was an expensive day.

It's hard to describe the culture shock that ensued upon arriving in Fes, and especially in the medina. Nothing could have prepared us for it, and the first day was a difficult one. It was hard to accept that to many people, we looked like walking dollar signs. And even harder to then trust a kind gesture, as many turned out to be for money. Eventually, we were able to reconcile the two, business and kindness, as part of the culture here. Sometimes they coincide, sometimes not. It took an entire day of medina madness to adjust, but once we did, we were happy. Over the subsequent days, we developed more confidence and relaxed into the flow of the souqs and people and energy filling the narrow streets. We encountered far fewer guides and hassles, although people continued to call out to us- "Ali Baba" to Brian, because of his sideburns, and "hola" to me, thinking I'm Spanish. Several people have also told me that I look Moroccan.

Walking through the medina, we encountered donkeys carrying heavy loads, scrawny stray cats sleeping everywhere (including in a basket of onions!!), fruit and veggie stands, colorful carpets, clothes and art, Berber handicrafts, loud arguments, the erie call to prayer, women in long robes and scarves bustling to and fro, shop owners sitting in the streets, and aromatic food carts selling warm bread, sweets, meats and snacks. In the shops, we tried our hand at bargaining with mixed results.

We've eaten fantastic food, including the best couscous dish I've ever eaten. For under two US dollars, we've eaten bowls of piping hot harira, sandwiches stuffed full of salad goodies, rice, potatoes and hard-boiled eggs, flat, spongy cornbread filled with avocado and honey, sweet pastries, mint tea and more. We try to stick to fresh fruit from the open markets and snacks from nomad vendors roaming the streets. If we eat in a restaurant, we share a mezza salad and entree of vegetable tajine (stew) or vegetable couscous. The salad usually includes 6 or 7 different tiny salads that could consist of beets, carrots, potatoes, rice, creamy eggplant, tomatoes and onions, cucumbers, lettuce, cabbage, etc. Moroccans eat with their hands and they eat a lot of food, so one portion is more than enough for us to share. We enjoyed eating breakfast with Adil's family; they bring out one big dish that everyone dips their bread into.

Unfortunately, the heat, tap water and change in food has affected us both. We are on the mend. Inshallah we'll both fully recover soon!


For pics, see the last post: Photo Journal