We open with a Moroccan Proverb:
You say you are going to Fès, my friend,
Which means that you are not going to Fès
But I happen to know you are going to Fès, my friend
So why did you lie?
The concept of truth in Morocco is complicated. We were told, by people who have much experience living in Morocco, that people there can never be said to lie, because culturally they don't have an understanding of "truth", as we know it. So, if they don't know truth, how can they know an untruth, and furthermore, how could they then tell a lie?
And, as foreigners, how can we know if they are telling us the truth or if they are telling us a lie?
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This was our first view of the African continent as we crossed from Tarifa, Spain to Tanger, Morocco.
The seas were relatively calm that morning and it was smooth sailing. We landed at the port city of Tanger-ville and bustled through the customs line with everyone else. daD, being the ever-thorough travel planner, had arranged with the Riad in Fès to have a taxi driver meet us, and our man Mounir was there with a wee sign for us.
It's wise to prearrange these taxis. The alternative is to hire one on the spot - a Grand Taxi - and work out the complicated bargaining before getting in the car. The Grand Taxis can hold up to six people, which means that if we wanted to ride in peace we'd have to pay extra to have the whole car to ourselves. Otherwise the driver would stop anywhere along the road and pick up someone else and take them along to where they are going! We weren't terribly in favor of this possibility, so we were happy to have a car sent just for us.
We loaded into his car and off we went, we had a long day ahead and we were Fès bound!
Our first real in-your-face indication of being in a very foreign land was this:
We couldn't even read the street signs! Melinda's college Arabic began to come back, a little - enough to sound out words and wonder what on earth they meant - although in the case above, it was fairly clear;)
Down the road a ways we made a stop at a gas station and there was the second big reminder that we were no longer in the western world:
A squatting toilet equipped with bucket for personal cleansing! Note the lack of toilet paper. Remember, use your left hand!
Here we are looking over Chefchaouen (aka Chaouen), a beautiful mountain town in the Rif mountains. You can see the bluish hue of the town from here. This mountainous area of the Rif is famous for the production of hashish - approximately 40% of worldwide production occurs here.
Here is another reason we hired a driver instead of hiring a car for ourselves to drive:
That's NOT a picture of a parking lot. That's the street in Chefchaouen! In Morocco, street signs are considered to be mere suggestions, and the result is generally a chaotic and unpredictable flow of traffic.
The following photos show the typical narrow blue colored streets of Chefchaouen:
Such colorful souks (markets)!
Beautiful dyes for sale.
Even the signs were blue! And the doors too of course....
Note the police checkpoint shown below:
We were slowed at many of these checkpoints as we drove in and out of villages and cities. Security is tight in Morocco and police presence is palpable. Occasionally there were checkpoints set up in seemingly the middle of nowhere. Although we were never stopped, we frequently saw other cars pulled over. We were told later that police generally avoid pulling over official tourist vehicles, so as not to harm the industry.
Meet the king, Mohammed VI. His heiness's image can be seen plastered on walls of cafés and businesses throughout Morocco. He is highly revered and frequently praised.
Along the roads we saw loads of donkeys in various guises. This one is loaded with water jugs, which the kids are taking to the community fountain. Many of the houses and villages don't have individual running water, so community fountains are strategically placed. We saw some donkeys pulling carriages with large drums for water, too.
Here we are with Mounir, looking over a lake just before we reached Fès. Melinda is still trying the get the headscarf-tying technique down, and the wind is not helping!
Much later in the afternoon we arrived in Fès el-Bali. Fès el-Bali is the old medieval medina of Fés and it is a dedicated UNESCO world heritage site. As no motor traffic is allowed in the medina, a porter with a wheelbarrow met us at the Bab Aïn-Zleten (Bab = city gate) to lead us through the labyrinth of narrow busy streets to Riad el-Salama.
From the street, our riad didn't look like much - a small wooden door with a green light dangling above. But when that door opened......
A true paradise awaited. That is part of the magic of Fès - from the doors on the steet you really can not tell what is behind them. We later heard that this reflects a strong Muslim value- modesty. The external display of wealth is viewed as egotistical and arrogant. Thus, one can not differentiate a poor family from a rich one based on the external appearance of their home.
This a view of the courtyard of our riad from our room on the 1st floor (2nd floor by U.S. standards). A riad is a home with a central courtyard flanked by covered living spaces and bed rooms.
The next morning we met Rashid, our guide for the day.
Rashid, a university-educated Moroccan who has traveled extensively, is a friend of Paul & Dawn, our hosts in Spain. They very kindly shared Rashid's contact info and facilitated our meeting with him. Rashid, being extremely insightful, taught us about Fès history and culture as we snaked our way through the medina.
According to Rashid, there are over 9000 streets in Fès - many are extremely narrow and in general their organization follows the chaos model. This is well known Muslim strategy of city design aimed at confusing foriegn invaders; launching an attack in winding steets with twists and turns would be a challenge indeed.
Here's a snap shot of part of the map we used to get around:
What's funny is that not all the streets are shown, and those that are shown aren't necessarily shown in the right place!
In any case, the builders of Fès succeeded without a doubt at confusing us utterly. In the tall maze of narrow streets that are anything but linear, it is easy to lose your sense of direction completely, often within minutes.
Here is the narrowest street in Fès, per Rashid. Another benefit of this type of street design- shade! With prolific shade these streets stay cooler in the hot summers.
In many of the streets we saw buildings heavily braced against each other. This is, as you might guess, to keep them from falling over! Being a UNESCO world heritage site means that many efforts are made to preserve and restore the historic buildings of the medina. This work takes a lot of money and time. Funding for restorations is supplemented by UNESCO, but families/individual owners are also required to contribute. In the meanwhile, structures are stabilized until they can be properly restored. That being said, some of the bracing we saw had obviously been in place for quite a long time.
One aspect of the medina that photos can't convey is the degree of filth in the streets. In the late evening and early morning piles of putrid trash, often not in even in bags, were set out for collection. Naturally there were disagreeable odors. One morning we even saw a dead lamb on a pile of trash. Life is a crowded third world city, where access to the modern conveniences is limited, is simply messy. It is not a clean place, but it is real and it is home for many. We never did become accustomed to it, although we hypothesize that, over time with consistent exposure, we would. Because it was such a contrast to our sanitized Western lifestyle, it was very noticeable.
Again, it's simply how people live here, and for them it's home. While it is clear that better sanitary practices result in a better level of health in a population, we can't judge people for living how they do- they are doing their best to get by. They feel challenging economic pressures that we of privileged world geneally haven't had to contend with. It's eye-opening for us to see different cultures, and once again demonstrates that there are many ways to live.
We continued along the narrow, winding, and sometimes-smelly streets with Rashid for the better part of the day...
Poor moM still felt ill with a cough, so we went to a natural pharmacy/herbal apothecary.
We were shown the process of Aragon oil extraction.
The is a grinder used to crush the nuts and extract the oils.
This shows the fruit in the center and the seeds in all stages of the process. Below is a brief description of the process.
At the apothecary we bought some eucalyptus salts and black anis seeds, both of which made our noses sting and our eyes water. Just what the doctor ordered for moM!
To the tanneries we went next. We were sad to find them in a sterile state of renovation. Supposedly, its re-inaguaration was to be attended by the king later that very week.
Here is a photo of what the tanneries generally look like when they are up and functioning. We hear it is a stinky place as they use many animal products including pigeon poo in the tanning and dying process. They recommend taking mint leaves along to counter the stench while visiting.
After the tannery we headed through the bustling medina...
Here we are walking through the market ...
It's not clear from the video, but the markets in Morocco, especially in the tourist destinations, are a daunting place. Nearly every shop owner calls to nearly every foreign passer-by to gain their attention and draw them into their shop.
The merchants are very good at what they do. First, they engage in small-talk in order to surreptitiously determine your credentials as a shopper. The informtion they gleen such as details about your accent, nationality, and profession, combined with an assessment of how well you're dressed, help them to determine your wealth status. They may even ask about your family to determine how many children you have, as large families are a symbol of wealth in Morocco. In this manner, they adjust their asking price accordingly. Americans and Northern Europeans get the highest starting prices, of course.
But in Morocco haggling is a way of life. We were told that the first counter-offer should be less than half of the asking price. For us, that's hard to do - it feels almost rude. We want to be respectful of seller and his need to make a living, but at the same time, we want to be respected and not taken advantage of.
The first offer by the buyer is always shucked off as being offensively low, of course! "I have to eat, my friend! And feed my family!" cries the shop owner, and he counters with an offer barely lower than his first. And he usually accompanies his second offer with "You're my first (or last) customer of the day, and I need to make this sale. And the price I offer you, it's a fair price, my friend!"
If there's any hesitation by the buyer, things get interesting. Sometimes the merchant starts wrapping up the goods, as if the deal has been sealed and you no longer have a choice. Or he offers a lower price to keep the haggling active. Or sometimes the merchant asks "come on, how much you pay?" In any case, patience can pay off -let the merchant talk himself down and down until he is closer to the asking price, and then restate the last offer. Most importantly, be prepared to walk away. This gives you the upperhand. Sometimes, when walking away, the merchant may even reach out to pull you back, or he may follow you down the street with further offers.
It was all quite uncomfortable for us, because we just don't do that kind of haggling in our culture. One thing we finally realized is that we can not rip them off because they simply won't allow themselves to lose. Also, for us it was hard to know what price to counter with because we don't know the actual value of the thing. As westerners we like to know what something is worth in order to determine what we're willing to pay for it, and this is a skewed philosophy. As buyers, it's entirely up to us to determine what something is worth to us, isn't it?
Melinda and daD came up with unique strategy after Melinda saw a scarf she liked. She asked how much for scarf, and the merchant said 250 dirhams. But she was feeling ruthless and countered with 100 dirhams. The merchant laughed and rolled his eyes and countered with 200 dirhams. Melinda held fast at 100. He waxed eloquently on the quality, the colors, and "the design is unique to Fès, my friend." daD looked on, waiting for his moment. Melinda held fast at 100, and then began looking skeptically at other scarves and questioning the quality. Then the merchant started talking himself down ... 180 ... 170 ... And he put the scarf in a bag when he reached 130. daD waited patiently. When Melinda took it out of the bag, he said 120 dirhams. And then daD jumped with a 10 dirham coin, said "110 is our final offer. That's all we have, my friend." The merchant dejectedly accepted 110 dirhams, and Melinda got her scarf. Go daD!
We eventually became more comfortable haggling, but it was always still a bit uncomfortable.
This guy is selling snails and ingredients for making snail soup.
Yum? We also saw several snail sellers peddling their snails from wheel barrows, and there was always a snail or two perched on the prow as if to sing out "I'm the king of the world!" as they were being pushed about the medina. Their final glorious moment, perhaps, before becoming soup...
Here's a brief video from the coppersmith souk:
Above is a beautiful fountain used by residents to collect drinking and cooking water, and also for cleansing before prayers.
Through the markets and souks we went...
...and the souk where bridal sedan chairs and coffins are made. The sedan chairs are very intricately decorated and so ornate that they are never purchased - they are only rented for the wedding. Coffins, however, are not rented.
Fès is famous for its craftspeople and Rashid took us through the different craft specialty areas: leather, pottery, textiles, woodworking, metal working of all sorts, plasterwork, ceramics, garment-making ... The amount of skill and talent in Fès is incredible. Some of the workshops were quite primitive, but the quality of workmanship was quite impressive.
We also stopped at a music shop, with hopes of finding some good-quality instruments to take home. We were particularly interested in the ghaita (sometimes called "snake carmer flutes"), and this is how that worked out!
Turns out the instruments at this particular shop were more tourist trinkets than playable instruments, so we left empty-handed.
Here is a restored fonduq - dating back to the 13th century. This is a caravanserai- a place where travelers of caravans would stay when visiting Fès. Their animals and goods would remain below and the travelers and merchants would sleep in the room above. It now houses the Nejjarine Museum of Wooden Arts and Crafts, an excellent place to see traditional Moroccan craftsmanship at its finest.
The restored building was beautiful in and of itself!
And our favorite part of the museum - musical instruments! Ghaitas, above.
And a beautiful oud!
One of the best parts of this museum was the view from their roof.
From there we could look out over the medina and observe in amazement the irregular contours. At times it seemed buildings were layered upon each other like interlocking jenga game pieces.
And we noticed a humorously large number of satellite dishes. Talk about a mix of Old- and New-World!
We visited the Madersa Al-Attarine, who's name comes from the nearby spice souk Souk Al-Attarine. A madersa, or madrasa, is an Islamic school. The interior of this 14th century madersa is a combination of elaborate zellij (tile work), intricate and delicate plaster and cedar work and was indeed quite impressive.
The incredible calligraphy swirled creatively in beautiful patterns around the courtyard.
On our tour with Rashid we stopped at a textile shop. There was a fellow running a manual loom, which is a dramatic contrast to the iron beasts Paul uses on the molino!
And the shop owner taught us how to tie a turban. Here's the family all wrapped up and ready for a desert adventure!
And if you want to tie your own, here´s how to do it:
With beautiful doorways, dark alleys, and patient cats...
This is gnawa music, and is traditional to Morocco.
When we were walking back from the restaurant that night we heard the call to prayer being broadcast over the medina.
We heard the call to prayer several times a day, and we were always enthralled by it. Each mosque has an Imam, or spiritual leader, and he sings his own call over the loudspeakers. And because there are so many mosques in the Fès medina, calls from many Imams can be heard at once. It creates a mesmerizing and somewhat eerie cacophony.
On the number of mosques in the medina, Rashid told us the local saying: "Between a mosque and a mosque, a mosque."
We were surprised there were many people who didn't observe the call to prayer. One of our guides told us that people pray "when they are able," and it doesn't necessarily have to be at the prescribed five times per day. If a person is engaged in business, for example, then they should pray after they are done conducting their business. We did see some merchants close their shops at prayer time and they didn't reopen until prayers were done, but most didn't. Of course, not everyone is a devout Muslim - as with just about any religion, some people don't strictly follow the doctrine.
Melinda and boB went on a walk one morning, passed through the Bab Guissa, and found a cemetery just outside of the medina along the north wall.
And speaking of donkeys...
Here's the famous Bab Boujloud, or Blue Gate.
We were the only non-locals in the place, but even so not a soul hassled us. It was nice to be anonymous and unseen in this place where our uniqueness has made us such a target for hustlers and eager merchants.
This is looking at Fès medina through an informal door (aka "hole") in the city wall.
As we wound our way back toward the Riad we passed the trash man and his donkey.
They are the pick-up trucks of the medina. The guy above is carrying hides from a tannery.
These two handsome guys are for-hire. If you have something to haul you contact the driver, negotiate a rate, and off you go.
Make way for the water delivery!!
One hot afternoon we visited the Dar Batha museum, a restored 19th century summer palace housing artifacts from the traditional crafts and trades of Fès. There were beautiful displays of clothing, pottery, tapestries, and woodwork. They had an excellent collection of the unique blue pottery from Fès.
All of the floor surfaces, inside and out, were covered in zellij tile work.
And in the courtyard of the palace was a huge and beautiful Andalucian-style garden. We rested in the shade for a while, and took a much-needed break from the hustle of the medina. It was so cool, quiet, and peaceful that we could have stayed all day...
In Muslim cultures alcohol is off-limits, and when we went to the Carrefour grocery store we weren't able to find the beer aisle! Oh, no!
Fortunately, on the way out of the store, keen-eyed boB spotted the cave. Yay! Once inside, daD asked a couple of local Moroccan youth their recommendations for beer, and they obligingly offered their opinions. And it was pretty decent beer, too!
It's named for the blue tiles on the outside of the gate. It's one of the newer gates into the city (1900's) and one of the most popular entries to the medina. It was always crowded with tourists, locals, and hustlers pushing their services.
boB and Melinda went wandering one evening and found a flea market!
boB found a shirt for 20 dirhams, and it was new looking. And with the fellow selling the shirts there was no haggling. The price is marked, so you grab your goods and hand over the note.
We ended the night with a beautiful sunset. The next morning we were bound for Marrakech, and this was a perfect way to end our adventure in Fès.
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