It is still like a dream, a dream that makes you extraordinarily
lucky when you wake up.
In the middle of Marrakech's Medina, we are walking along the
dark, narrow alleys. Everywhere the penetrating odors of aromatic
spices, dead bodies of animals that hang outside the little stores,
fumes of mopeds that streak past and smells of food. Half nasty,
half pleasant. Temperatures between 43 to 50 degrees during the day,
in the evening it sanks to estimated 25 to 30 degrees. The heat is
hardly bearable, but after a while, one gets used to it. Since it is Ramadan,
people stay in their small and fragile loam houses at midday, but as
soon as it gets dark, crowds storm out to the notorious
square, Djema El-Fna to meet friends, family and to grab some food.
For hundred of years, the square has been a marketplace for tourists and
locals. It is the perfect place to get lost in the cultural
lifestyle of Morocco. Here, one can watch serpent charmers, find
open-air restaurants, music shows, dancers, clothes, souvenirs and
even Berber monkeys.
Never in our life, we have seen such a great spectacle. It seems to
be a completely different world. Things, we have experienced and
learned from the Moroccans, we would never forget.
Day
1 - Marrakech: Arrival with Exertions
After four hours of flight from Frankfurt, we arrive at 6.30 p.m. at the RAK airport in Marrakech. We feel like entering a sauna when gettingout of the air-conditioned plane.
Our accomodation, Riad Laârouss lies about
15 minutes from the airport in the middle of the
Medina. The taxi ride is a real adventure.
Most Moroccans care less about traffic laws and drive
totally arbitrarily. Although the street is very broad, mopeds
come by a whisker of our car, men riding donkeys are suddenly
directly next to us and other vehicles cut in on us before we can see
them coming. Our taxi driver uses every opportunity to honk
vociferously.
First, it was a little shock for us, but afterwards it turned into real astonishment how
well the traffic works, although traffic laws seem to be a minor
matter. Arrived at the beautiful Riad, we relax for a while and
then make our way to Djema El-Fna through the
Souks (Souks are commercial quarters in a special area which are very common in Arab cities).
People are sitting in front of their small shops or aground, trying
to sell their stuff or begging for money. The alleys are very
windy and appear like a huge labyrinth - we seem to
look quite lost. After five minutes, a seemingly friendly man
welcomes us and offers a small tour to his friend's spice shop.
Actually, we already have known beforehand that he tries to get some money, but at the moment, we are
too tired and get involved with him. He is very talkative
and asks us for our plans in Marakkech.
The first thing that catches my eyes are all the cat
gangs that are hanging around in the dark corners. I feel
like in paradise.
When we reach the small spice store, the shopkeeper presents us many
different seasonings of which we have never heard of before. The prices are
very low, e.g. 3 Grams saffron only cost 20DH (converted ca.
2,00€).
We promise the retailer to come back on our last day in Marrakech
and leave his shop. Thereupon, the man who accompanied us demands
100DH (10,00€). When we tell him that we don't have more
than 20DH, he turns angry and responds that it was Ramadan and that
100DH would not be much for western people. Other Moroccans standing
behind him shake their heads and intimate not to give him anything.
But since we want to move on to Djema El-Fna and do not plan to
discuss with him the whole night, we give him 20DH which he takes quite angrily.
At Djema El-Fna, the situation is not getting better.
From all sides, merchants try to lure us to their food stands. They
are very stubborn and even run after us to show us their menu. Each
food stand has its own number, so it is not unusual to
hear: "Remember number 36! This is the best food you'll get
at Djema El-Fna; you won't regret it!"
From everywhere, there is the delicious smell of grills. We decide
to go back to the first stand as there are sitting most of the
people. It is typical to get a breadbasket with two red sauces as a
supplement (without ordering it). Kuno orders a Tanjine, a classical
Berber/North African stew. Usually, its ingredients include meat
(chicken, beef, lamb etc) and vegetables. I take a vegetable
Couscous with Moroccan salad (tomatoes, onions and sometimes
cucumber/pepper).
For the whole menu, we only pay about 50DH
(5,00€). After the meal, we allow ourselves the notorious
orange juice of Marrakech for 4DH (0,40€) at a juice stand. These
stands can be found everywhere in the Medina. Satisfied and exhausted, we try to head back to our Riad, but get
lost again. We ask a Moroccan boy to show us the way back and give
him some money because we want to go to bed as soon as possible. My
feet hurt and my ears feel strange from the flight and my
boyfriend has a headache.
For the first day, this should be enough. Until now, my mind has been a little confused. I am not really sure, whether I should
look forward to the next days. There were too much impressions at once. It was quite stressful to walk around in the Souks and trying to get rid of the intrusive merchants all the time. It is not that we were not sympathetic about their life circumstances; people in Africa are obviously poorer than in most western countries. Nevertheless, at a point, it becomes
simply exhausting to walk around. Let's just hope that it will get
better. If only I had known at that moment, that the next days would be
the most beautiful, memorable days in my life.
Day 2 - Traditional Hamam "Spa" and Couchsurfer
Meeting
This morning, we feel much better when waking up. We want to
go on adventures, discover Marrakech with new eyes, let ourselves go
for the next six days.
Until the evening, we walk around in the Souks. There are far less
people on the street than yesterday. The heat is very oppressive, especially with long clothings. However, in
comparison to Germany, it is not muggy. The Moroccans on the
street barely talk to us, most of them relax. They sit or lie in
front of their small shops in the shadows, fan themselves or make
siesta. There are craftsmen painting their jobs or repair their
fragile houses and only when we come to a central market, there are
more people.
In the evening we try "Hammam". Nowadays, it is known as a method of
relaxiation, comparable to the sauna or steam bath. But in the Islam,
it also has religious significance: in this
sense, Hammam is an ablution which takes place
before praying or before going to the mosque.
A few doors down from our Riad, there is a classical Hammam for
Moslems (men and women of course separated). It is quite
plain; from the outside one would not expect that there is a Hammam
"spa". When I enter the room, three women sit on the floor and stare
at me. I think they are not used to tourists coming to their place
because normally they visit bigger spas if they are just going for wellness. I explain that I want to be washed. I feel a little
awkward because there are other naked women and girls in the room
scrutinizing me. One of the elder women that sits at the entrance,
signals me to take off all of my clothes. I am a bit haphazard because it is a very unfamiliar circumstance and I do not really know what will happen next. But then, she also undresses herself,
takes me by the hand and drags me to another gloomy, moist room.
There, she fills two buckets of water, one cold, one
hot, lays me down on the floor and starts scrubing my whole body with a
rough washcloth. The flavor of the Hamam soap smells weird,
but at the same time somehow pleasant. After that, she swills the
soap down with the buckets of water and repeats this process of
scrubbing and washing-up about three times. When she is finished,
she takes my arms and crosses them behind my back and then on my
front side. This is painful; it feels like every bone in my arm is
breaking. Just recently, a friend told me that this was a method of "relaxing". After 15 minutes, my skin is completely reddened and we
walk back to the changing room, where I get dressed again. Another
woman arrived while I was doing Hamam. I notice that they are
talking about me. If only I could understand them. The elder woman
smiles at me and says goodbye.
Looking like a drowned rat and a little bit confused, I walk out of
the Hamam, my hair completely wet, but with a big smile on
my face. This was an experience I would never
forget. And I can assure that the classical Hamam is nothing
for sissies! ;)
For 10 p.m., we arrange a couchsurfer meeting with
Aimad and his friend on the deck of "Café France" at Djema
El-Fna. I am looking forward to meet him because we have been
writing on Facebook for some time, after I contacted him on
www.couchsurfing.de and asked him whether he could show Kuno and me around
when we are in Marrakech. We decide to play billards at a gambling
hall they know. There is loud music upstairs, and a lot of young
Moroccans at our age who smoke, drink and laugh with each other. Sad to say that I am a total wimp in billard, so we leave the hall after one
game and look for something to eat at a small restaurant.
It was actually my first couchsurfermeeting outside Germany, and we
really enjoyed our time with both of the guys. Unfortunately, time
was too short because Aimad had another meeting with his friends and
Kuno and I wanted to be fit for the next day. So we say goodbye to
each other and take a taxi back to Djema El-Fna.
Day 3 - With the Moped Through (the Slums) of
Marrakech
Our hotelier, Mohammed is simply the best.
When we ask him whether he knew an affordable moped
renting agency, he phones a friend and inquires about the
price. 250DH (ca. 25€) for one day. This is a good price, nevertheless there are still five days in Morocco left and we have
not even booked another hotel/riad for our rest vacation (even less we
have any plans for the next days). When the hotelier notices that we
are talking to each other about the price, he smiles, takes out his keys and offers
us to lend us his moped - for free. We cannot believe that he is
serious because we have never driven on a Moroccon moped before, not to mention
the crazy traffic in Marrakech. When I ask him,
whether he is sure about this, he only says that we are his
friends and that he trusts us. We should just bring back the moped
in the evening and should not drive too far away from the Medina.
Mohammed shows Kuno everything necessary about the handling, and
after 20 minutes we are already driving through the Medina. I feel
the hot air in my face, my hair is blowing in the wind. Other cars
and mopeds overtake us first, but we do not want to drive faster as
long as we have not gotten used to the unpredictable traffic.
Especially in the Souks, we have to watch out for pedestrians and
other mopeds who flash out of the back alleys. But when we come to
the main road, my boyfriend accelerates and we quickly drive past palm trees and beautiful loam houses.
After a while, we discover sand hills at the end street. They
look mysterious, so we cannot stop ourselves driving them up to see
what is up there. The path is very bumpy and stony. Moreover, it is
very windy up here.
My sunhat flies away so that I have to run after
it up the hill to catch it. All around us, there is garbage. We see
a flock of goats and sheeps being guarded by some watch dogs. Far
away, there stands a man with an old hat and ragged clothes staring
at us. He must be the shepherd.
As we do not want to disturb him, we drive further up, until we see
An impressing but simultaneously upsetting image in front of us.
Before us, there is a huge slum (a poor district of a city). Children are running crying
around and play with animals, there are women carrying cisterns on
their heads and people who are sitting on the street in front of
their houses talking with each other. The ghetto is big and very rundown - everything is gray, and dull, you can see the smog in the
air. The situation here is barely comparable to the Souks in the
Medina. It all looks more miserable and far poorer. I sit there
with Kuno observing the people for a while,
