Moroccan Water Fountain in Fez

When travelling by bike across Mediterranean Europe, my husband and I didn't omit to use the opportunity of being so close to Morocco, my university obsession. I remember when standing at the edge of Europe at Tarifa, Spain, we waited for the sun to go down to be able to have the first gaze at the lights coming from the other side of the sea, the African continent. Tarifa is a enticing, historical city itself and already looks and feels like Morocco. Although it is still Spain, you can see heavy architectural influence of the Moors. White buildings with medina - looking hallways, arches and narrow streets. At night, the old city is lit with warm yellow lights so it is an incredible experience to take walks. Little streets are full of cafes and restaurants that offer Mediterranean, Spanish and Moroccan food. We spent there only one night before boarding a ferry across the Straight of Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco.

From Tangier, our base, we travelled to a few other cities. We visited Meknes, Quazzane, and Fez. We visited Rabat's bus station but decided not to stay because our couch surfing host stood us up and we had no planned place to stay. But that wouldn't scare us even. We were simply tired and angry and frustrated because we waited for the host the entire day at the station. We had a phone number that was never answered so at the end of a day like that we just got on the bus to Fez from Rabat and left. The trip was comfortable and interesting. There was a lot to see through the window. Children on donkeys, desert landscapes, markets, little square huts and shepherds with their flocks. Every time I looked behind my seat I could see a man sitting and gazing at me and my husband. He would smile politely and nod. I thought that was very friendly. I think we even engaged in a quick conversation about him and he told us he was going home from work at the market in Casablanca. His English was very broken and limited so there wasn't much we could talk about after that.

After a few hours we arrived in Fez and automatically at the station we were attacked by numerous taxi drivers, food vendors and hotel commissioned personnel. And since we had nowhere planned to stay we chose the nicest and the least pushy guy and went with him to a hotel. We ended up in a very cheap, simple but fairly clean hotel room with bright blue walls and very limited furniture. I specifically remember how we put our bags down on the bed and said how incredible it would be if we could possibly find a can of cold beer to split between us! But I wasn't getting my hopes to high! I was prepared for a sacrifice of being in a Muslim country. Beer! Not a chance! Especially in the medina, where we always liked to stay. Maybe it was possible if you went to the modern part of the city and party at the famous Moroccan clubs. But I cannot testify to that since I have never left the walls of the medina in Fez!

We left the room anyways to look for something to eat. Somehow the same man from the bus appeared! He immediately recognised us and so did I him. We began talking about our plans for Fez. Very quickly we found ourselves checking out of our room with his help, of course! He offered to have us in his home. So all of a sudden our evening turned out to be a home party with his 5 kids, his wife and a few other aunties. The women prepared an amazing traditional food that we ate with our hands, we drank some mint tea and enjoyed homemade sweets and dates. When the kids got tired and the hour was late, our friend offered to take us to the traditional bath/spa (Hammam).  However, only my husband got a wonderful chance to use it since the women's part was closed for maintenance. I am not going to hide from you I was ticked off about it greatly and for a moment accused the world of a conspiracy against me! But life went on and my gracious hosts made me quickly forget about that. We came back home and were sent off to the same room that we partied. This time, however, to sleep. There were no beds, no futons, no blankets. We were guests of honour so we slept on the couch, but the rest of the house slept on the floor covered with beautiful handwoven carpets. See it for yourself in the video below. The kids were thrilled to sleep in the same room with us. And were having experience of being in a Moroccan home, experience of our lifetime. Sleeping in a naked hotel room with blue walls doesn't even come close!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LxwB39Zi_kE

The next morning we helped the lady of the house with some desert making in the kitchen. (You can see it in the video as well.) She was a cook weddings so she would prepare these condensed milk and nut bonbons and other goodies. And she let us into her kitchen and be part of her crew! Her sons, her sister, her husband, her daughters and us! I remember as i rolled the bonbons in my hands i looked around the circle of people sitting at that kitchen table. I remember thinking how beautiful the lady of the house was. She had a big, powerful, strong frame. but a very delicate, noble beauty, perfect skin and hair hidden under a colourful scarf. I felt honoured because I knew that in many cultures, especially in a Muslim culture, a kitchen is a very sacred place. Mr. and Mrs. Smith, the king and queen of Western tourism, usually have no permission to enter. She made it possible for us to feel special and be picked out of the crowd, so to speak...



After the session in the kitchen, Sayed took us around the old town and showed us some beautiful places and introduced us to a few artisans. I remember the biggest moment on that day was when I saw a water fountain. This highly utilised, everyday piece of public space was so ornamental and so colourful that it resembled some sacred altar for the Gods, similar that of altars in India or Bali! Still today, when I think about it I am left in awe! Such an incredible attention to detail. I remember how many cats gathered there to drink from it too. The hot dry climate drew everyone breathing to it. Humans and cats alike revered this life giving place.

I think I have posted the Moroccan video here before but yet again, new memories from Morocco came to my head. They are not really memories. Memories and little instances that happened. They are much bigger. They are CHUNKS of my life that are tattooed into my memory forever. One day I will be telling them to my grandchildren. There are many more from that trip so if you remember something I don't, please do remind me! I want to remember everything! I don't want to miss any of you! Wonderful people deserve to hear about their good hearts and kind minds!

Happy Wednesday, my friends!