This part of the Medina I’m in now is a little pocket of weird energy. Every time I’ve been in this part I feel it…the first time I did an abrupt about face and left. The souks in general are intense; shops packed together, their offerings piled high and spilling out into the alley, people meandering and stopping randomly, shop keepers calling out to you, donkey carts and speeding motorbikes narrowly trying half heartedly not to kill you. But this area has an extra layer to it. The first time here a man told me the main square was that way…the opposite of the way it was. I know where I am at most all times, thank goodness. I just find that really disconcerting, leading people the wrong way.
I wouldn’t call it superstitious, but I look for signs and feelings. This time back to Marrakech reentry was rough and set the stage for this week. The sweet taxi man who brought me from Sidi Kaouki was following his GPS…but not well and we got off course in the streets that are almost too tight for a car. I knew he was going to abandon me and was ready for it. The problem was he didn’t want to leave me alone, so he asked a man to help me find my riad. I did not want a man to “help” me. “Oh, it’s so far away, really.” “No, it’s not.” “It is far I will help you.” “It’s not far and I don’t need help but thank you.” Google maps is my BFF in the souks, and I set course and didn’t let him take any of my luggage. “I’m just being friendly.” Sure, dude as he led the way. But do I not follow him the correct way with all my crap? Once we arrived, he of course demanded money. I gave him some. Not enough. “I need 200.” I said, “Well that’s all I have.” He left annoyed. Funnily enough, the next day I see him, and we say hello like old friends. He invites me to his mom’s house for couscous. For free he’s sure to add when I give him a look that says I remember what you did yesterday. I see him the next day and we say hello and have a good day like we’re old acquaintances.
One man on my way home the other day started talking to me, telling me I was going the wrong way. I was going the exact correct way. Then he raised his voice and started yelling, “Listen to me!! I am talking to you! You are going the wrong way.” Following me, yelling. I just ignore. There is a man on a motorbike who wants me to go to the festival of colors. It’s this way, let me show you. No, thank you. It’s only for another hour; the Berbers have come down from the mountains it’s only for another hour you don’t want to miss it. Sorry my friend, but you can only fall for that scam one time and my mom and I did it on our first trip to Casablanca. Went to see rugs made by Berber women before they packed up and headed back to the mountains. From their very well-established warehouse. Full of only men. So no, I will not do that again.
There is a man from Merzouga (the desert town at the edge of the Sahara that I adore) so I like him just for that, who keeps asking me to stop and have tea. He’s an artist and has had his shop for 26 years. Every day he greets me, how are you today, where are you going today. Have tea, no pressure, just talk, I’m not pushy like the others. Maybe. But then he takes me yesterday to a wholesale warehouse. Which happened to be very cool and full of handmade things that I would love to buy if I had a house to decorate. I told the man there when I get my house I’ll be back. He’s saving chairs for me. And when/if I need help finding a place to live, he knows people. Just come knock on the door. But was it just kindness to bring me to a shop, I’m not sure, so I’m skeptical of this just tea and chat.
Today on the way to the photography museum (museums are my solo traveler, tired but want to do something secret weapon), I met a man who seemed so kind, where are you from. Talked about snow and mountains and I hope you have a beautiful day. And I’m thinking to myself maybe I need to soften, maybe I’m being too rigid and suspecting and don’t I actually believe that people are kind and not out to get you? Yes. So, I’m feeling like wow here is a nice one. See you can be open. He says stay to the right the motorbikes go so fast. We laugh about them. Then… you know the square is the other way. Red flag. Yes, but I’m going to the photography museum. Oh, but it’s really the other way (I was almost there). Man, you’re crushing my hopes today. But this is the way to the tannery. Oh really? Yeah, you can see them tanning and working the leather…. sometimes you can see them sewing things. Really? Yeah, just go that way and turn second right. Thank you. Off I go. Then he follows on his motorbike…stops in front of me. Calls out to a man on the street…. this is so and so, look he’s wearing the traditional Berber outfit (the most basic plain jelaba I’ve ever seen) he will show you, just tell him choukran as thank you. Right dude, I did not fall of the donkey cart yesterday. So now I’m following another man I don’t want to be following. But he’s going the way I need to. He turns right (I need left), and I decided to stop him and ask for directions to come back later. But later they won’t be there. Only one more hour and then they pack up and go back to the mountains. The photography museum will be there all day…this is just one more hour. Really you need to come now. No. No. No and again no.
I’m tired. It’s 110 degrees and the heat adds an extra layer of difficult weighing down on you. Pressing into you. The streets around here feel like a battle ground. I walked further out of the area yesterday and felt a shift in energy. Totally different feel…friendly…calling out, come see my things, hello where are you from? The feeling is entirely lighter. It would be interesting to make a map of the souks by feeling, by energy. Maybe I’ll do that one day. It’s interesting to me the first time here, I came this way, it felt so off I turned around. I wonder what the story of this area is. No where else in the Medina or the souks feel this intense and nowhere else have I been tried to be scammed from the “helping you get somewhere,” wrong directions, a color festival, a trip to the tanneries, see this free exhibit, men being angry when you don’t listen to them, every day multiple times a day. It’s the weirdest thing and it’s really affecting my overall wellbeing. I feel like what am I doing here, what’s the point of any of this. I should just go home? But then what? And do what? I need a new neighborhood so I decide to reach out to my first lovely Riad in the quiet residential neighborhood and see if they have a room for me. And they do and will be delighted to see me again. Thank goodness. Thank goodness.
