Visits from Friends

A Lifetime,,,,,

We all have that one friend. The one that makes you laugh, the one that always shows up and wants to go EVERYWHERE when they come to visit.

This is my friend, Katherine. She has been kind enough to visit me everywhere that I have lived since I left Holland. I could talk about all of the visits, but the time that she came to Morocco will be the trip that we will be laughing about for years to come.

I was living in Casablanca, so we needed to make a road trip to Marrakesh. She couldn't come to Morocco and not see Marrakesh. So we jumped in the car and headed out to our Air B&B, which we'd popped into the GPS. The drive from Casablanca is just over 2 hours. It's a beautiful drive, and we had lots to catch up on. Before the trip, we compiled a list of songs that we thought would be fun to listen to along the way. Of course, some of the songs were oldies, but a few were some rap tunes that we both thought were fun (and funny).

The trip to Marrakesh was relatively easy but the real adventure began when we arrived in the city. We had been told to park at a public garage and that someone from the Air B&B would come and meet us. It seemed easy enough but it was not! The GPS told told us to go inside the city, which meant behind the Medina walls (which are like a gate). The parking garage was nowhere to be found

If you've ever been to Marrakesh, you will know that once inside this big city wall, there is nothing but tiny streets that are very busy with people, donkeys, market stalls, and just about every kind of situation fathomable. As we slowly made our way through the crowded streets, we both looked at each other, eyebrows raised, as if to say, “where the heck was this parking lot and were we really going to find it?”. We were getting a lot of stares from the locals and we were trying not to laugh as they were all peering inside the car. At one point, we saw what looked like an entry into "something," so we decided to take a chance. Once we turned in, we realized that we were driving through an ally lined with various workshops. There were one or two men sitting drinking tea in front of each shop. I can remember the raised eyebrows, cup over mouth and nose as they sipped and stared in amusement as we slowly made our way through. My car just fit through this narrow passageway that was no wider than a small driveway. The further along we got, the more I wondered how we were going to turn around. Up ahead, it looked like a dead end and I was hoping that I wouldn’t have to back out the same way I’d come in. At this point, we were heading further away from the crowds and deeper into this local workspace. We were undoubtedly turning heads as I'm sure these guys weren't used to seeing the likes of two white women in their midst. It was uncomfortable and I wanted to get out of there

Our windows were up, and the doors were locked. I'm sure that there was no danger, but we felt very out of place. Katherine and I took a deep breath and just decided to laugh it off and pray that we’d make our way out of this predicament. We just kept the tunes going and laughed our asses off through the whole thing.

We made it to the end and clearly we were not in the parking lot we had hoped for. Luckily, at the end of the street, there was a teeny weeny opening which allowed me to make a 15 point turn and get the car heading back in the other direction, where we would once again pass everyone on our way out. We were so relieved to reach the end and as we made our way back onto the busy street, we were immediately followed by a bunch of kids who could see that we had no idea what we were doing. For them, this was a business opportunity. "Madame, Where you want to go!". "Follow me!". They were all screaming and chasing us down the street to help us get where we were going. All of this could be ours for a small fee (of course). Finally, we gave in and decided that we really needed to get some help. I stopped the car and slowly rolled the window down to ask this guy (who seemed to be the pack leader) where the parking lot was. I showed him the directions that we were given.

Before he could answer me, I noticed that he just took a second to look inside the car and wonder what the heck he had come across. He peaked inside the car, glasses halfway down his nose with a surprised expression on his face. His eyes got wide, and he chuckled when he saw the two of us. At that moment, I looked at Katherine and realized that Flo Rida was blasting on the radio. "Low Low Low". We just burst out laughing. He must have thought, who are these two old ladies, lost in Morocco, listening to rap music? It was hilarious. I still can't listen to that song without cracking up.

Finally, we showed him the address we were given, and he kindly motioned us to follow him. He took off running, signaling us to follow him. All at once, every kid in the neighborhood followed him too. They were all waving us on. What an adventure! Some of them were on bikes and some of them were running. They couldn't wait to get us there. As I slowly followed them, I was doing my best not to hit anyone. It was like a conga line. As we passed through, others joined. The group grew and grew, and suddenly there were kids everywhere. Many of them crossing in front of the car without looking. Luckily we were going slowly. We finally arrived and were relieved that we had found a place to put the car. They all asked for a coin, which we gave and they ran off excited by the moment. We thanked them, and they thanked us, and everyone was on their way. The kids were skipping off and laughing. The highlight of their afternoon, indeed.

Once parked, we waited for the guy from our hotel to arrive. He appeared with a dolly that looked like the wheels were going to fall off. He loaded our bags on top, and off we went to find the hotel. From here, we followed him and wound our way through the little tiny streets that resembled a maze. There is no way that we would have found this place on our own.

After about 10 minutes or so, we turned down a quiet ally way. We were now inside the labyrinth. It was quiet. We walked by people's homes, kids were playing ball off of the walls, and you could hear women cooking and talking behind closed doors. We turned left, we turned right, we went through a passageway which led us to a tunnel, where we ducked our heads. Once out of the tunnel, we turned right one last time where at the end, we could see a little door. This was the entrance to the Riad. It was the tiniest door. He opened it up, and we crouched down to go inside. Once inside, we stood up straight as if breathing in the air and the beautiful scenery that lay before us. It was a massive space with a vast open view of the sky. Palm trees in planters and beautiful Moroccan decor. It was so peaceful and it was hard to believe that this sanctuary lied just on the other side of the madness that was just outside. The world just washed away and all of the noises from the streets of Marrakesh was gone. A true Oasis.

There was a little plunge pool and palm trees dotted around the room. We were invited to have a seat, and here we were offered mint tea and some Moroccan sweets. It was a lovely welcome. Katherine and I clinked our tea glasses and breathed a sigh of relief that we had made it. Phew!

This Riad was actually someones home and it belonged to an ex-pat family. They had moved back to France and were renting it out from time to time. It felt like home. There was a lovely roof terrace where you could sit on Moroccan couches and read or sit in the sun. Whatever you felt like doing. Absolute peace in the middle of the Medina. It was magical. Katherine and I loved all of it and were excited to hang out, but at the same time, we needed to visit the city.

We learned how to get to and from our Riad pretty quickly. We learned that once we made our way out of the ally way, we needed turn left towards the fruit market. Here, we needed to walk through the market until the end and turn right. Once we’d made our way past all of the different stalls we’d arrived at a little square called "Place des Epices." Here, you can eat, shop, and be outside. This is my favorite spot in Marrakesh. Once we’d arrived, we had our bearings, and were able to find our way through the rest of the crazy souks. We quickly got used to donkey carts, motorcycles and whatever else whizzing past us. It was nuts!. We did a lot of shopping as Katherine loves to shop. I managed to help her negotiate a reasonable price for some pompom blankets that she wanted. This was an item that was in abundance in Marrakesh and I knew that we could haggle our way to a good deal.

Once we had exhausted all possibilities at the souk, we decided to stop for lunch and found ourselves on a roof terrace that overlooked the main square (Jemaa el-Fna). We had just gotten our drinks when the call to prayer came over the loudspeakers. Suddenly, men were coming out from all around, carrying their prayer mats. They assembled in front of the mosque. As each mat was laid, each man kicked his shoes off and stood on his mat. The ritual began. The prayers were called, and everyone stood listening with hands open towards the air. This was followed by kneeling, where the men would put their heads to the ground. Heads up and down, up and down. This continued until the prayers were finished and as quickly as they arrived, the men picked up their mats and walked back to what they were doing. I always found this so interesting. The prayers take place 5 times a day, and almost everyone participates in the ritual. In my time living in Morocco, I never met anyone that didn't believe in God. Quite remarkable. Where were the women, you may ask? Women pray, too, but they usually do so at home. There are female prayer rooms on the opposite side of the mosque.

In the afternoon we tried to find out how we could go about visiting the tanneries. Katherine had read about it so there was no way that we weren’t doing it! We headed back to our Riad to find out more about this and once almost there, we bumped into one of the local guys that we had been speaking with in the morning. He was having fun throwing a ball to a bunch of little kids but when he saw us he came right over. We asked him how to go about getting to the tanneries and did he know where they were? He promptly called over one of his friends and pointed to the carpet seller “He will take you!” We looked over and out of nowhere appeared this very young guy who was walking very slowly with the help of a wooden cane. “He doesn’t want money but he wants to take you there. It is safer for you.” Katherine and I looked at each other and decided to go for it. We had no clue as to what we were doing and as it turned out it was the best decision ever. As we walked deeper and deeper into the bowels of Marrakech, we were suddenly in a neighborhood that really looked like something out of another time. We were the only women in site. As we walked through the dust filled streets that were lined with homes that looked like clay huts, we became very aware of our naivety. Our presence felt like an intrusion as we could feel the heavy stares of the locals as we walked by. I was not comfortable and I was used to living in Morocco. Not only were we the only women in sight but we looked like we were from another world, which we were

We were smack in the middle of a very old and quite poor area of Marrakech. I had become comfortable in Morocco but I suddenly had a wave of anxiety here. There was suddenly this realization that I had no idea where I was, no idea who this “guide” was, I had no language (French no longer spoken) and I wouldn’t know what to do if there were any problems. .I still have an image of the various men, sitting on an old chair in front of their homes, dressed in long robes. They all stared as we walked by. It was very quiet. I didn’t like it at all. I will also say that it is the only time I ever felt like this in Morocco. I learned the following week from one of my English students (who is a Moroccan woman) that she was shocked when she saw on my Facebook post that I had ventured into this neighborhood. She told me that it was a place she would never go. Feelings confirmed! All that said, we made it to the Tanneries. It was a very interesting visit and we saw how back breaking the work is. It was a place of purgatory and it smelled awful. There was a man waiting to show us around and he was very friendly. He showed us how the leather was dyed in the big vats that surrounded us and then offered to take a selfie with him as a souvenir. Just when the photo was snapped, this very nice man began to ask for money. He wanted us to pay. him in the amount of 50+ euros for his generosity that day. I, immediately said no. This was instructed by our guy in Marrakech. He warned us that this would happen. I offered to give hime 10 euros (as previously advised) and he went nuts. He wasn't happy and suddenly became very rude and again, we were not comfortable. He then whisked us out of his place and insisted that we visit the shop that was just up the street.

Out of fear, we decided to have a look and when we entered, we were in a space that looked like it could’ve been in the US. It was a big warehouse that was filled with any kind of leather product that you could imagine. We were greeted by a very jovial man, all dressed in his long white robe and donning a long white beard. His presence reminded my of Princess Jasmin’s father in “Alladin.” I, of course, was immediately taken by the enormous red pouf that was right in the middle of the store. It was huge and it was beautiful. He saw that my eyes were wide and immediately started trying to sell me the pouf. I asked him how much and I got the usually Moroccan line “For you, because you are so beautiful, it is only $500 dollars”. Ha, ha, ha. I burst out laughing and almost choked. These poufs, in miniature, are about $10. I looked at him as if he were crazy. He could hear that I was American and started to very loudly exclaim “Use your credit card. It’s like free. Hands and arms flailing around as he chuckled at the thought of us pulling out our plastic. Credit card……..no money! Ha, ha, ha”. He was so happy. Each time he said it I could see his belly moving up and down as he so confidently tried to convince me that $500 dollars was the best deal in town. I finally looked at him and said “Sorry, I live in Casablanca". At that moment, his face dropped and he was no longer smiling. He knew that he wasn’t going succeed with me. I had insider information. He just shut down and didn’t even wish us a good day as we walked out of the store. His back was turned. Shocking behavior but expected.

Well, that little drama was over, so it was time to head back to our Riad for some mint tea and a rest before we tackled the evening. So, off we went with our guide, who never spoke to us (BTW). He just lead us back to the main center as he hobbled on his cane. We never did find out what happened to him.

Our time in Marrakech would continue with a horse driven buggy through town, a trip to the YSL Museum and many more lovely meals during our 3 day visit. It was a great time and we had a lot of laughs. We were in some bizarre situations but out of all of it, we learned our way around Marrakesh and I was actually able to show people around better, myself, after our stay there. I never went back to the Tanneries, and I’m not sure that I would. Once is enough. I would suggest having a local bring you around to some of these places. It just feels more secure.