Fes

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Our second destination was Fes, one of the biggest cities in Morocco. We took a train there, which was a ride of seven or so hours from Casablanca and not very expensive. We were able to get a good look at Morocco, and I must say I am impressed with how beautiful it is. Long flat vistas of green, dotted by picturesque towns and grazing herd animals, watched by young boys or men with sticks. Where there were hills, they were similarly smooth and green, and despite the complete lack of clouds in the sky for our entire visit the land was always lush with vegetation and life. Despite the beauty of the countryside, we did have one incident along the way. About four hours into the train ride, we heard a loud crack, which everyone on the train seemed to assume was a gunshot, as everyone immediately pulled down their shades. The atmosphere was tense for a short period, but soon people relaxed and shades were once again raised to show us more of the Moroccon countryside.

We arrived safely in Fes and found our hostel, one ¨Auberge de Jeunesse,¨ and met its friendly and colorful proprietor Abdullah. Dressed in an entirely orange men´s robe resembling a monk´s frock, he pulled down his hood and smiled broadly as he greeted us. His English was very impressive, and despite the rather long list of rules he insisted we follow we decided to stay there while in Fes. (The rules were as follows: no drinking, smoking, or other naughty behavior. Doors close in the morning from 10-12, the afternoon from 3-6, and at night at 10 pm. Breakfast is on the house, but only served from 8:30-9:30. Showers are available all the time but only have hot water from 8-9 in the morning. The strange closing times were to allow the household opportunities to pray.) Abdullah gave us a great deal of advice on Fes, including warnings about the various thieves and con artists, suggestions to take an official guide through the medina, places to see and things to do, and many little tidbits of advice about just about everything. In addition he introduced us to his cat, an exceedingly friendly and cute black and white short hair who insisted on sleeping in our room. The first night, after sneaking in when we weren't looking, it refused to leave. Eventually, one of the members of Abdullah´s family saw us attempting to entice the cat to leave our room (It knew what we were up to and simply sat watching us) and came in and chased her out. In the end, the first day in Fes (Tuesday) we did nothing but find our hostel, have dinner and then go to sleep. We arrived late in the day (7 pm) and so instead of running about planned on starting our exploration the next morning.

Which we did at 8 am, after our first shower since arriving in Morocco (4 days, we felt disgusting but had no choice.) In addition, on Abdullah´s advice we had him arrange for us an official guide for half of the day, one Rashid. Rashid himself deserves a dedicated paragraph, and so here it is.

Rashid is an older gentlemen, perhaps between 55 and 60 years of age. Dressed in a western style green coat, meticulously cared for, and wearing a pair of simple yet elegant glasses he immediately presented to us a friendly, competent, clean, and somewhat noble demeanor. After showing us the gates of the previous imperial palace (we weren´t allowed in,) he took us to the medina for a several hour guided tour. He educated us on Fes as we drove, and we learned a lot on just the short taxi ride to one of the major gates into the medina. The medina was magnificent. Rashid took us through its twists and turns with never a backward glance and an unbreakable stride, helped by the fact that despite the crowd people seemed to scramble to get out of his way. His speedy pace was broken quite frequently as he stopped to converse with friends, shopkeepers, and people he knew, which seemed to be just about everyone. In a medina of 4 square kilometers and holding a population of 500,000, this is no mean feat. He took us to see all of the best merchants and introduced us to many of the more interesting and varied foods to be had throughout Fes. He took us to see a tannery, where we received a guided tour of its works, a Berber weaver, where we got the same, and a world famous brass-smith who, upon seeing Rashid, showed us how he worked the brass and much of how the craft is done. Whenever we entered one of these shop/industries Rashid would place us in the hands of a knowledgeable resident and then take a seat in the front, where people would gather around him and bring him mint tea and snacks. At every place, despite the insistences that they were not trying to push goods on us, they pushed very, very hard. However, all prices they gave us were much lower than seemed normal, and everywhere, even food stalls we passed, offered us discount prices as ¨friends of Rashid.¨

It became evident very quickly that this man was well-known, respected, and feared in the medina. A variety of evidence soon made it clear that he was someone most likely involved in something alike to the mafia in Fes. The deferential treatment shopkeepers and even people on the street showed him was one clue. The clean, well-cut, obviously wealthy and aristocratic bearing he had and his insistence that he did his guide job for fun and that he did not actually need the money was a second. The fact that when he spoke, or called to someone, they listened and did not interrupt or leave unless he let them was a third. When he walked he was on the phone often, and conducted great deals of business along the way. He spent five minutes or so berating an olive merchant, obviously a poor one (he had one bag of poor quality olives in a sack) who was attempting to sell his goods in one of the metal districts (Fes is divided into markets where all of one merchant type will gather.) At one point, he stopped to have a conversation with a lady and a beggar came up behind him to ask for money. Ignoring him, Rashid kept talking. The beggar persisted, and eventually, Rashid turned around, his face a thundercloud. The sudden look of abject terror in the mans face as he stumbled away backwards in frantic flight will perhaps stay with me for the rest of my life. Obviously, we thanked Rashid many times when our time was up, and tipped him very, very well. When we asked for a photo, he told us he did not like having his picture taken, and we decided not to press the issue and took his leave.

The medina of Fes was incredible, even more so once we were on our own and out of the large shadow of Rashid. Fes is famous for its crafts, all created by hand, and its obvious why it earned its reputation. Everything I saw there was beautiful, whether it was the brasswork in plates or teapots or the weave of a rug. If I were not traveling onwards, I would have bought many items of wonder for incredibly cheap prices and brought them back with me to grace my home (or, the home that I will one day have.) In addition, the sheer size of the medina was baffling. The streets were in general about twice as wide and twice as clean as in Casablanca. There were people everywhere at all hours, and even the cats were in much greater abundance. Eventually, I had a chance to view the medina from above (it is situated in a valley) and I then truly saw that it is a city in and of itself.

Generally, it is divided into sections where one type of good is on sale. However, there are many arteries through which traffic flows which contains the full gamut of items, and there are many areas where everything is just as mixed as it is possible to be. Food is the most abundant, with long streets lined with butchers displaying hanging skinned animals and chops of meat. The next most popular item were dried fruits, usually swarming with flies but still incredibly delicious. I bought a bag of dried figs from one of the vendors Rashid recommended and sampled the dates, which I had never tasted before, but found quite good. Then there were pastry shops and restaurants, and the omnipresent tea houses serving mint tea and coffee. Of the non-food goods, leather, weaving, and metalwork of all sorts were the most visible and of the best quality.

The medina was still a maze though, and we found it nearly impossible to remember where we had been or where we were going. The only guide I could reliably use were the stars during the night, and even those were covered more than half the time. Generally, we let ourselves get lost, which almost always turned out the right course of action. Despite our occasional meanderings into dangerous and tight tunnels and alleys, we always managed to outpace the inescapable thugs and touts who followed us. The most dangerous moment came when we were in a nearly empty, narrow road with no turnoffs. We were followed by two young men around our age who we at first mistook for touts. Laughing and offering to take us to a tannery, it became obvious they were trying for something else as they attempted to trip me and knock me down quite a few times. Karate feet and training came in handy as I simply avoided their attempts (much easier than trying to stop getting swept in a karate match) and we eventually lost them when we doubled our pace and turned onto a major, crowded street.

Fes did have a much higher proportion of touts and aggressive salesmen than Casablanca, if much fewer actual thieves. We could not go more than five feet without being propositioned in every language to stop, buy, or come to see something interesting. When English failed they tried German, French, Spanish, Italian, and other languages I didn´t even recognize. For Yohei, it was Japanese, Chinese, English, and so on down the list. The more aggressive of them would follow you for minutes, even if you completely ignored them (our general strategy.) The most aggressive would simply block your path, and you would either have to barrel through them or try to maneuver past them as they maneuvered to block you. At one point, I managed to avoid one of these types very quickly while Yohei was caught by him. I turned to see Yohei shaking loose, and when I asked him what the man had said while he had been entrapped Yohei told me that the guy told him that I had been very rude, and that was probably because I was a Jew. We met this man a second time as well. Despite the great size of the medina, its possible to meet even the one or two people you will know and recognize. We saw him sitting with several others, and when we passed he looked up at me angrily and told me I was very rude to him yesterday. I, I would like to think wisely, passed by without saying a word. We even saw Abdullah once, walking through the crowd, which was a much more friendly encounter.

Our last full day in Fes took us to the ruins of the old wall around the city. Climbing on it we had a breathtaking view of the medina and the valley it was in, but had very little time to appreciate it as we were soon set on by a pack of young boys, between the ages of 7 and 9. They greeted us cheerfully and when they saw Yohei (an Asian!) they started showing us their martial arts moves. Imagine my surprise when I recognized them! They were doing Shotokan Karate Katas that I had practiced innumerable times, and eventually I could stand it no longer and so, on the top of this broken, nearly abandoned piece of wall I spent half an hour or so correcting this kids stances and helping them with their katas. We spent a total of about 2 hours with them, during which they showed us their skills with homemade slingshots and played with us. They showed us they did not fear death by doing handstands on the edge of the wall, amongst other death-defying stunts. At one point, Yohei gave them a piece of candy he had, and the one that got his hands on it first took off down one side of the wall. The others, not even knowing what he had, chased him, and eventually we saw them, a quarter mile or so down the wall, dividing up the goods amongst themselves. Once finished they rushed back, and started asking for more. Yohei gave them his water, a bag of garbage, and a film case. Eventually, we took our leave and, as the sun set over the valley, returned to the medina where we promptly got ourselves lost.

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