Memories are such fragile and gentle beings. If you don't take care of them they die or go away. I wish I remembered where this scene took place. I want to say this is in Tangier in the Medina. But it could have been Meknes. In both cities we stayed in hotels located in the Medina. This is clearly a scene from the inside of their walls where life was highly traditional. It was as if only there the time stopped. But just outside there was a modern Morocco with her modern king Mohammed VI.
During our cycling tour of the Mediterranean Europe we included Morocco because it was something that I personally needed to see. I had been brainwashed and infected with love for it by my favourite Anthropology professor. This man was a real educator. He made you think and question in order to understand. I didn't have amazing grades in his class but he always took the time to get to know his students to know their real knowledge and capacity. The same with me. Once, I was called to his office to have a conversation about my paper. He told me that he was giving me a B although the paper was very badly written. However, he said, "I see that you have a great knowledge about the topic. And I want to talk to you about it. Explain your thesis and your paper." So very casually in plain language I explained my point of view and he graded me upon my knowledge. This is the type of a professor that he was. His expertise was Morocco and Berber culture. I could listen to him talk for hours in his British accent. He was a tall, slim man with straight dark hair. He wore sandals all year round like a true Anthropologist. In winter he would just add thick wool socks. I wish for my son to have educators of his caliber!! Then, I wouldn't be worried about my son's intellectual development!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LxwB39Zi_kE
We visited Morocco briefly leaving our bikes in Spain. Our couchsurfung friend's parents offered to keep them safe in Algaziras. So we boarded a ferry and after short two hours at sea, my university dream came true. I was standing on a Moroccan soil warding off all the taxi drivers that so readily waited for tourists at the ferry pier. We chose to walk to Medina. Ah Tangier! City of poets, writers and fashion designers. It is traditional, architecturally mesmerising, breath-taking, busy, colourful. If this is your first point of reference to a Moroccan culture you will fall in love irreversibly! Once, we wondered the streets in search of the famous mint tea. We saw a "bar" with mostly men sitting and watching TV, soccer of course! So we sat down and ordered our tea with fresh mint and two cubes of sugar on the side. It was awesome to rub elbows with the locals. And although we didn't understand each other's languages ,we felt united because we did understand soccer. It was a really singular, incredible moment.
Morocco slipped into my life very briefly but it gave me so much. A short rendezvous, a moment, but stole my heart forever. We peeked into people lives, work, kitchens. In return, they embraced us with our imperfections of being ignorant travellers. Morocco for me was an invite for a sleep over on the living-room floor, making Moroccan sweets with condensed milk in the kitchen, camel meat balls grilled to the perfection, ladies in djellabas at the market selling mounts of flat breads, mosaic makers, friendly kids endlessly asking "how are you!", Imam's calling in the middle of the night. colourful water fountains and cats drinking from them, groups of women walking with kids, groups of men in black and white djellabas with their hands in their mysterious pockets. pointy shoes, spectacular jewellery, narrow streets, old walls, hotels with windows with views of the hallways, men praying on little carpet, tajines with amazing food. And so much more. And there is always someone watching you and smiling at you...
No comments:
Post a Comment