Morocco

March 18, 2012

Marrakech, Morocco

T.I.A.

Side saddle – Classic Moroccan Style!

We stepped off the plane into the blistering heat of North Africa. Our drive to the hotel quickly revealed I was now worlds away from London, with mules, horses and motorcycles weaving frantically through the traffic. Sometimes it seems as though airplanes are time machines, moving through spacetime in a relative way that eludes us all—except maybe Einstein.

Rush hour in downtown Marrakech

The road was something to share. Far from the concept of our society where we have our “own” lane.

The buildings blend into the surrounding desert backdrop, and nothing is built higher than the center mosque temple. After checking into the hotel we strolled down the street to the famous local market Jamaa el Fna.

The Mosque standing above the rest of the sprawling buildings.

The concrete and dirt arteries of the city were some of the most crowded, craziest places I have ever experienced; it was hard to escape injury as I navigated its paths while my mom clutched my arm. The market was unbelievable. The smells ranged from exotic and attractive to repulsive, with everything in between. Options included everything from fresh fruit to any type of BBQ meat.

The line up of carriages led right to the market square.

Snake Charmer. One of the many forms of entertainment in the market.

Shops offered traditional Morrocan carpets, jewelry and lamps, and the merchants had the most forceful style of marketing—always willing to give you the best price, “just for you!” Morocco is famous for its many leather goods, and the shops were spilling over with some amazing quality items—with knock-off designer items residing next to them. I really can’t understand why someone would pay more for fake black market goods instead of well-crafted authentic goods?

The first cup of mint tea in Morocco and we both agreed it was easily the best one of our life.

March 19, 2012

Today a tour guide helped us through the maze of the market, which, if you aren’t careful, could easily swallow you up. The tour started off in a palace built at the end of the 19thcentury. There seemed to be no end to the rooms that opened one into the next, and all of the stories centered on the palace’s king, who had four wives and twenty concubines, with “suitable” accommodations for all. The favorite wife had the most ornate room to demonstrate how “special” she was to the king. After viewing the wives quarters, the next stop was the king’s private area, where he had one room designated only for “love making,” with the room beside that set aside for his siestas. He would have definitely needed a whole episode of Cribs to brag about his humble abode.

Entrance to the Palace

This decadent room was for the “favorite” concubine

This local man was enjoying some famous Moroccan Mint tea in the palace

Following our visit to the palace, we toured through the streets. My mom loves taking photos, but a lot of the local people only permit their photo to be taken for a negotiable price. One man, however, was very offended when my mom didn’t ask him if she could take a photo of his fruit stand, even though he wasn’t even in the image. His rage gave him the urge to throw a piece of fruit at her, a decision that he would soon regret. Our tour guide instantly started screaming at him, and within an hour the police brought him to us. He was very lucky that my mom decided to pardon him; the look on his face was proof enough that he was already being punished for his actions.

The rest of the day we spent bartering in several shops, gaining an appreciation for the many locally made goods. The carpet shop was my favorite stop, where the store owner proudly displayed over fifty rugs until we decided on one. There is something so impressive about handmade goods that have a flavor like a homemade meal—impossible for any restaurant to replicate.

The markets brought to light a shocking reality: we watched people decide on which caged animals they wanted to eat, and looked on as the animals were immediately butchered and packed. After watching Food Inc., the market seemed very humane in comparison to a factory line butchery. It’s disturbing to think how ignorant we have become toward our food, and how the distance of the grocery store from the source of our goods has allowed us to absolve ourselves of moral responsibility for what we are consuming. I wonder if we would consume as much meat if, before digesting and metabolizing their energy sources into our own, we had to stare an animal in the eye before actually eating it.

The Moroccan culture is very diverse, welcoming Muslims, Jews, Christians and everyone alike to celebrate their beliefs openly. I was impressed at seeing how many religious symbols were etched in such close proximity to each other, and how this symbolic proximity translates into people’s interactions. This culture inspires me by the moment to learn how it came into existence.

March 21, 2012

The hospitality of the Moroccan people was astounding! My mom with our tour guides wife and mother.

I loved the sense of reprieve I experienced after escaping the crazy flow of Marrakech traffic and retreating behind the tall concrete walls housing peaceful gardens inside. My stress level dramatically decreased as we drove out of the city into the serenity of the countryside. In less than an hour we reached the Atlas Mountains, and for the first time in three days I could breath without feeling as though poisonous gases were ravaging my lungs. I had severe asthma as a child but I have largely grown out it—especially in the last few years of my life—but the combination of animals, two-cycle engines and a stagnant desert city caused me to use my ventolin inhaler for the first time in years. This magical medication allowed me to instantly feel my bronchiole tubes dilate and facilitate the passage of sweet oxygen into my alveoli. If only I could ignore the fact that anything that gives such amazing results must also have long-term side effects.

The further we drove, the more enamored I became with the visual of desert hills flowing one after another into mountains reminiscent of the Canadian Rockies, still dressed with snow at the peaks. The stark contrast of the scene created the feeling of a dream-like moment, where it fully occupied all of my attention such that everything else temporarily ceased to exist—and then our SUV abruptly swerved off the road to allow a semi truck roar past us (on the supposedly double-lane road) and I was jerked back to reality.

Zoom-in

Zoom-out – If you peer closely that is the same flock and Shepard as above.

Walking along the roadsides were several shepherds guiding their flocks of sheep, and I was instantly thrown back to the images created in my mind from reading The Alchemist by Pauolo Coelo, a great fictional spiritual story that highlights how everything you ever look for is usually right in front of you. When I thought of what life would be like guiding animals, witnessing breathtaking views and interacting with the town people, it became clear how embracing a more simple approach to surviving allows a much easier path to peace. The authentic smiles on the faces of the shepherds epitomized true happiness: that genuine smile where the unconscious mind crinkles the eyes along with the conscious upturning of the mouth. People truly do wear their emotions.

March 22, 2012

Trekking up through the Atlas Mountains to the most distant villages was one of the most amazing days of my life! Old women with bundles of twigs hiking up the rocky trail, toddlers playing at the edge of a cliff without hyper-emotionally involved parents protecting them—it was a true display of people living off the land; their connection with the universe in its natural state gives them a sense of purpose that shows through every molecule of their being.

The midpoint of our tour was a tea break at the home of our guide Mohamed. His three-year-old son was playing with his cousin, and their joy for life brought me back to my favorite state of mind – playing for the sake of playing! The Berber people are renowned for theirs hospitality, and to experience their welcoming demeanor was a treat.

This shot is from the home of our guide Mohamed with his son and nephew.

After tea, we finished our trek to the top of the village to enjoy a rooftop lunch overlooking the home-lined valley and its surrounding mountains. I was stunned by the display God so eloquently created in this part of the universe.