8.29.2004
MARRAKESH
The main attraction here (besides Berber carpets and leather bags) is the Djemma El-Fna, a large open plaza, which attracts a football-stadium sized crowd every evening at dusk. People gather in clumps around henna artists, snake charmers and monkeys by day; musicians, actors, boxers and games at night. And of course there's people watching.
The first scene we approached drew me in with a bright light. I expected to see something esoteric, but instead, a putting green appeared once the crowd parted. As we made our way, I was groped on the sly no fewer than a dozen times. Later, a little girl approached me, smiled pleasantly at first, and then more seriously lifted a small bean between my eyes, running off to deliver it to three men in white coats.
A long line of bright lights and numbered metal signs emerged from the smoke, revealing dozens of food stalls, each proprietor demanding us to sit at their long wooden benches. We sat at vendor #22, and had a delicious dinner of olives, bread, Moroccan salad (beet, carrot, cucumber, potato, tomato), and lamb shish-kebab. The stall to our right was serving an Arab delicacy, sheep's head, and the tables were alarmingly lined with their wares.
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I'm wondering about the Muslim women's dress, and what the differences mean. Some wear long sleeves and skirts and a head covering wrapped tightly under the chin bearing only face and hands. Others wear a long loose brocade robe with hood and no head scarf. My least favorite (aesthetically and politically) is the long robe, pointy head cloth (like a Christian nun's), and a thin black scarf tightly masking the face from just under the nose, effectively muting the wearer.
+ + + + +
We're off today for Essouiara, a small town on the Atlantic coast. The temperatures should be more tolerable there, and the touting a great deal less since it is not a big tourist destination. I hope Erik can make the 2-hour bus ride. He's doubled over, says he feel like someone's flossing his guts with barbed wire. Must have been the chicken and cous cous from last night's dinner. Poor guy!
The main attraction here (besides Berber carpets and leather bags) is the Djemma El-Fna, a large open plaza, which attracts a football-stadium sized crowd every evening at dusk. People gather in clumps around henna artists, snake charmers and monkeys by day; musicians, actors, boxers and games at night. And of course there's people watching.
The first scene we approached drew me in with a bright light. I expected to see something esoteric, but instead, a putting green appeared once the crowd parted. As we made our way, I was groped on the sly no fewer than a dozen times. Later, a little girl approached me, smiled pleasantly at first, and then more seriously lifted a small bean between my eyes, running off to deliver it to three men in white coats.
A long line of bright lights and numbered metal signs emerged from the smoke, revealing dozens of food stalls, each proprietor demanding us to sit at their long wooden benches. We sat at vendor #22, and had a delicious dinner of olives, bread, Moroccan salad (beet, carrot, cucumber, potato, tomato), and lamb shish-kebab. The stall to our right was serving an Arab delicacy, sheep's head, and the tables were alarmingly lined with their wares.
+ + + + +
I'm wondering about the Muslim women's dress, and what the differences mean. Some wear long sleeves and skirts and a head covering wrapped tightly under the chin bearing only face and hands. Others wear a long loose brocade robe with hood and no head scarf. My least favorite (aesthetically and politically) is the long robe, pointy head cloth (like a Christian nun's), and a thin black scarf tightly masking the face from just under the nose, effectively muting the wearer.
+ + + + +
We're off today for Essouiara, a small town on the Atlantic coast. The temperatures should be more tolerable there, and the touting a great deal less since it is not a big tourist destination. I hope Erik can make the 2-hour bus ride. He's doubled over, says he feel like someone's flossing his guts with barbed wire. Must have been the chicken and cous cous from last night's dinner. Poor guy!
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