Fes-less Fes

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Fes, Morocco

I went to Fes hoping that it would be a more authentic experience than the tourist favorite Marrakech, but a close look reveals otherwise. There are no "hand dyed, hand woven fabrics anywhere in the medina," admitted the salesman from whom I just bought my "hand dyed, hand woven" scarf. "Regardless of what the kick-back guides tell you," he added. The tanneries are still dying leather for various goods but the more I dug the more I came to question the statement "the dyes are all natural...blue is from cobalt...yellow from saffron, etc." I was able to draw out of one kid, "well, yes, some saffron but also other things." I knew it! And often most of the stores near the tanneries were stocked with factory produced goods rather than items actually from the tannery. I managed not to buy any "authentic" carpets, despite the rather impressive hard sell complete with offers of mint tea, feeling your bare toes on the various grades of carpet, and having around 50 carpets ceremoniously rolled out and stacked between you and the door. I also managed to get out of the metal working shop with out buying a 5 pound teapot, which I dare say no back packer really needs. My happiest medina purchase was the 1 dirham cactus fruit. But upon reflection this little snack could probably cost you quite a bit more from the intestinal wallet so to speak. I believe I narrowly escaped some unhappy bacteria with that one!

The schemes are numerous and non-stop. Being a happy traveller at first you want to believe them. But once you hear the same thing 10 times you come to realize this is just sales training. "Oh, really, your sister lives in Des Moines? How ironic! Oh, your sister lives in Tupelo, Mississippi, funny, that is where I just said I am from." I would routinely change my origin to the remotest of Americana. I of course became best friends with all these people and gave them handfuls of money. Or they may try the guilt trip angle: "what, you do not trust African people?" I´m sure there are plenty of tourists who suddenly feel compelled to hand over all their money to go 2 blocks in a taxi for 10 times too much, all in order to not look like they are racist or something of the order. I also heard my self saying, "oh, you work in my hotel? How embarassing, I guess I did not recognize you. You want to show me around Fes? How nice of you. Oooooh, I am sorry to here about your sick daughter, and it is her birthday too? And you are a Berber just trying to get into the Atlas mountains to see them...oh, my dear hotelier, let me go to the ATM and empty my account for you!" My favorite was when they walked in front of you saying "this way this way" and then when you stopped at some sort of destination (mosque, tannery, etc) they would ask for money for "leading" you there. (Don´t worry Grandma, I didn´t really fall for any of these ploys. Your shrewd business sense has definitely rubbed off on me. Had they known I had Raviola family blood in these veins they probably would not have even bothered. And I did manage to negotiate the price for my scarf. I think all those games of spite and malice have made me quite the tough negotiator😊
The schemes became so constant that you soon learned how to deal with them rather effectively, and even play along some times to your benefit. And for learning things like that I am glad I stayed 5 days instead of just 2 or 3 as I surely would have left feeling defeated. Instead I left confident that I could handle Fes if I needed to. But happily, I did not need to and so the next destination was going to be Budapest, where surely there would be some fantastic nightlife to make up for the painfully slow evenings here. There is only so much ice cream I can eat! And out of respect for Islam I did not drink at all in Fes. There are bars but I was not too interested based on their reputation. (No decent muslim woman would be found in a bar so you pretty much just get prostitutes and men who can´t hold their liquor. Needless to say, it was not hard to pass up.)


Of course Fes did have its points of interest. The madness of the medina was more or less enjoyable. I found it much more interesting to go on your own which the "guides" tell you is not a good idea. "Never after 9pm" they said. But in reality that is when it actually gets interesting. There are hours upon hours of photo opportunities with all the crazy lighting. Unfortunately I did not get too many I liked as most people do not want their picture taken. Too bad for the tourist but you have to respect that. I did enjoy playing soccer with the kids in the narrow alleys too. It was a great way to connect. After one minute of keep away I would be drenched in sweat from the 105 degree heat, but it was well worth it. I tried to get a picture of some kids kicking up dust, competing for headers, using a mosque doorway for the goal. But alas it was too dark and I need more practice.

Now contrary to popular opinion, and what the guides tell you, I found the "Nouvelle" section of the city rather interesting. This is the newest section that was built out during the French colonization and the area where I stayed. It was nothing worthy of guide books mind you, but the more time you spent there the more you appreciated it. The buildings look like something you vaguely remember being blown to bits in a middle east spy thriller. The kind of 70s construction with satellite dishes, antennas, and slightly open drapes that makes you feel like someone is tracking your every move with binoculars and camera. The radios on the street blare verses of the Koran in Arabic interspersed with various music, from Rhianas SOS to unknown exotic wailing. The calls to prayer echoing over the city floated rather gracefully over the teaming streets. It really is a perfect movie setting. My Hotel Olympico also fit the scene quite nicely. The rooms had tall ceilings to echo the sounds, a small musilini style balcony perfect for resting your mercenary sniper rifle, and drapes/bed spreads wore the muted tones from the time when the hotel was probably first bult. It certainly was not nice by any means, but it felt safe, was affordable, and had its own mysterious quality. The Nouvelle section seemed to be the place where the common citizen lived. (mind you some 300k to 400k people live in the medina with no need to leave, but Fes is still a city of over 1.3 million people.) People looked at you a little differently here too. Perhaps slightly more curious as to why you were in that part of town and not with the rest of the tourists buying "authentic" lanterns. Everyone still had what seemed to be a government mandated welcoming message: "You are welcome in Fes." Usually "you" meant your money, but other times it was nice and genuine. A particular memory stands out that is my warmest of Fes. I was on a forgetable street in a forgetable section of town when I stepped into a dime a dozen pastry shop to sample some sweets. "You are welcome in Fes" one of the girls said as I butchered an Arabic "hello." I ordered a tasty looking pastry covered in chocolate with a cream middle. (The Moroccan eclaire I guessed.) Noticing my lack of knowledge, but seeing that I was quite inquisitive, another girl reached into the glass case and with a warm and shy smile presented me with a miniature peach-shaped confection. She outstretched her hand, and with a reverse nod prompted me to take it. I happily accepted and popped it in my mouth. A smile krept across my face when I realized it was NOT marzipan as I feared, but a sweet little ball of sugary peach colored dough. I attempted my best "choukorn" to say thanks. And with genuine smiles they repeated "You are welcome in Fes." And for the first time, I really felt it.
I will look forward to completing my "Round The World" with a second go in Morocco, next time Marrakech!

Oh, and an INSIDER TRAVEL TIP for anyone picking up their Round The World ticket from Lufthansa in Casablanca: They can not issue it in the airport, but they won´t know that there. There is an office in the city you must find, but no one will tell you that. So you may miss your scheduled flight, or if you are lucky like me, they will fly you to Germany regardless and tell you to sort it out in Frankfurt. (just be prepared clear your frist 8 hours in Frankfurt for this little "clearing up.") Happy Travels!

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Photos

living in the "Nouvelle" section
On the top of my hotel "Olympico" our towels dry in the dust storm prone air. Does anyone remember exactly what year Fes hosted the Olympics?

Medina
A pic of the surrounding medina, mosque minaret, and of course carpets.

Bab Boujloud
Enter all ye tourists, next time you pass through these gates your pockets will be noticeably lighter. "you can only buy 6 carpets sir. Here, take your shoes off and feel the difference in quality. Very nice. What kind of tea you like?"

The Water Clock
This is amazing and soon to be restored by UNESCO. The worlds first water clock. Too complicated to describe but beautiful in concept and reality. Picture chains with metal balls hanging over bowls of copper slowly filling drip by drip with water.

Medersa
Me at the Medersa (Muslim school and mosque) The only one westerners can currently enter at certain times of the day. And me in my best "I´m not a tourist I´m just a Moroccan business man" outfit.

Medersa 2
I thought this was a pretty good picture, and then I saw the same thing on a bizillion postcards. I am finding it hard to find ANY authentic expereinces here in Fes.

Muslim superstition
Women place these locks on this screen of the mosque where the body of the founder of Fes is buried. The superstition is that he will help them stop having so many children. "It is ridiculous" says my guide Thami, "they need to talk to their husbands and ask Allah, not a dead man." Very wise oh sage Thami!

Fes Tannery
The small tannery where the leathers are softened with lime and pigeon crap and then dyed in these vats. I do not envy the guys who work here.

Fes Tannery 2
The big tannery lies in the background. This is my "it is too damn hot out to bother" outfit with 1 liter water bottle accesory.

Everyone loves Mel!
It is always funny to see traces of home in places so far away and different. Here Mel sells what quite possibly could be the worlds most uncomfortable looking t-shirt. I wonder if he receives royalties?

Comments

[Mom]

Morroco
Great pictures Pete! Keep 'em coming!

[deleted_20633]

Well...
Well written, well photographed, and "well-groomed" (in that "it-is-too-damn-hot-out-to-bother" outfit). Actually, you look great in it! :-)