Fez, Monday 12 October
Fez is home to the largest and oldest Medina in Africa and I cannot wait to get to there. Medina means ancient part of the city and is a term used in Northern Morocco. In the south the word is Kasbah, same same. The structure of the Medina has changed very little in hundreds of years and amazingly 250,000 people still live in the narrow alleys within the walls of the Medina. Most of the people here own their own houses. The work is done at street level but since the early days over 1200 years ago families have lived above their shops, sometimes tiny tiny shops. In this Medina the maze of little alleys would confuse even Indiana Jones, there are over 12,000 streets. Advice from the guide is if you get lost…do not move. The tours use similar routes each time so buy staying in one place there is a higher chance of being found quickly. The chances of anyone getting lost is greatly reduced with three guides and a tour leader included in our group today (one at the front one I the middle and two at the back).
We follow the leader through the twists and turns of the alleys. On the outer periphery is food. Mostly vegetables, fish and beef and lamb but there are also delicacies such as escargot. The food looks and mostly smells fresh but there are flies everywhere and the crates it is sitting are well used, ugh. We stop after only about five minutes and a massacred Camel’s head which is hanging outside the Camel butcher is pointed out. I never would have noticed it. I take a photo but don’t look at the detail. We turn a couple of corners and thankfully move away from the fresh foods. We move passed shopkeepers and artisans including silversmiths, weavers, book binders and fabric dyers, pot and pan renters, dried foods and other typical market retailers. Everything is filthy. Everything is primitive. Every few minutes there is a cry of ‘Balack Balack’(bah lack) this means get out of the way fast. Right or left will do, just move. There is likely to be a donkey or two or three behind you laden with anything from parts or small goods coming into the complex or completed products or rubbish removal leaving the Medina (these smell terrible). Some of the donkey drivers just yell ‘get out of the way’. I don’t think they look upon our visit fondly. Nor do the constant stream of hawkers that follow our group. They are mostly younger men who are trying to sell us wallets, or stuffed camels or some other useful product for an exorbitant price. We have been asked not to buy anything today from hawkers, unless it is to die for. The hawkers are only interested in seeing what is in our wallets and we will get better prices in Marrakesh. For once I am fine with this, there is way too much to take in.
We pass a University that is located in the Median, the cleanest place by far and then we visit a carpet seller. Mint Tea is passed around and this one is pretty good, the other two glasses I have had have been subtly left forgotten after the first sip of good manners. I had been thinking about buying a hall runner and after some charming wheeling and dealing with the head guy who it turns out lives in New Zealand for six months of the year (his kids are at university and high school there) I come out with a pretty good price for my ‘very special’ carpet. A good deal is considered under 50 per cent of first price. I think on this one, with the help of the local guide, I managed close to a 60 per cent deal; the thing about carpets and bazaars is that I guess I’ll never really know just how good a deal. I just hope I still like it when I get home. It will also cost me an additional suitcase to carry it and some other bits and pieces ; -).
The local tannery turns out to be the unexpected highlight of the day. We are given a handful of fresh mint as we go in the door. It barely leaves my nose for the rest of the visit and successfully disguises the stench. Here we see what looks like the harsh lie of working in Morocco. We are about four stories up and we look down on vats and vats of vegetables dyes and skins are laid out on the rooves below us either being coloured or drying in the sun. 160 male workers are in the 35 degree heat and hot sun painting or treading skins to assist the colour change. It looks to be yellow day today. The men working in the vegetable dye vats can wash the dye from their skin at the end of the day, however just around the corner though is another section of vats that require plastic gloves and protective boots, if anything seeps through it will be on their skin for some time to come. The people in these vats need to take care as the limestone they work with burns. The whole scene hasn’t changed in centuries. It looks fantastic.
My photography seems to be either on or off. Today at the tannery it is on, this one will help you to be happy in your work whatever it is.
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