Weekend Trip to Marrakesh

I spent the weekend in sunny but cool Marrakesh (for general information and photos: http://wikitravel.org/en/Marrakech). Stayed near Jema il-Fna: home to street performers, local food and orange juice stalls, knick knacks for sale, and tourists/locals alike.

Meandered thru the wall-enclosed medina’s narrow covered roads selling a variety of goods: wooden carvings and sculptures, metal lanterns, produce and meat, pointy leather shoes called “belga,” square candles, red rugs, silver jewelry, “local” clothes for a tourist market, knock-off DVDs, knock-off designer clothes, 30 dirham sunglasses (happily picked up two pairs...my only non-food purchase except for a pink lighter), paintings of desert life, leather goods like furniture and bags, scarves, carpets, live chickens and eggs, postcards, tile artwork, and so on. Heard honks from mopeds zipping by and whishes from bicycle tires. Sometimes the road deadended into a mosque or door. For every path you took, you forsook three others and a tiny lane. Your senses overwhelmed you at first.Everything’s so colorful, merchants beckon you to the aisle after aisle of identical goods, your heart skips a beat when a moped just races two centimeters past you, your heart drops seeing an old or young beggar, you brush angrily by the teenagers murmuring inappropriate things in your ear, and faux tour guides all of ten years old want to help you find your way.

I overate in Marrakesh. Didn’t want to get too close to the tumblers, singers, snake charmers, henna women, card tellers, or prize game set-ups. Didn’t want to get too close to the street food tent, where men persistently pester you to sit at their booths (advice for travelers who want a quick getaway: say you just ate/will come back soon). Instead, avocado juice shops, restaurants serving both pizza and tagine, and cafes became sanctuaries where my friend and I could catch our senses. No one interrupted you too much when you sat on a rooftop terrace or behind the security of a table.

We people-watched: the man who sold coat hangers in an intersection, motorists who held up traffic to greet one another, tourists who held hands/butts (how inappropriate), boys hitting on girls, women in hijab, women in skinny jeans, blind men begging and finding their ways with a cane, kids selling kleenex, cute coats and boots worn by teenager girls, cute jeans and caps worn by teenager boys, families eating ice cream cones, tourists in horse carriages. It’s impossible to generalize Marrakesh because there are so many exceptions and such a melange of traditional and contemporary.

Saw lots of beautiful parks and gardens. Spent a morning at the artisanat complex and saw beautiful (touristy) things. There are palm (or date?) trees, olive trees, and flowers that remind me of Hawaii. Sat on a bench at one next to the Koutoubia mosque until the sun set. Passed by $$$ hotels and restaurants, gazing longingly at the swimming pools and restaurant menus. Despite the cold and full stomach, a dip on a pool followed by a bottle of red wine seemed so lovely. Good thing/Oh well I’m (not) a tourist. Wowed some people with my Arabic, but also made a street stall haggler yell after me that my darija was horrible, as well as my American accent.

Definitely a place I will go back to. But next time, I’m either traveling with my Moroccan friends or bringing my own bottle opener. As the tee-shirts sais, I <3 Morocco.