Thursday, November 6 ~ Magnificent Marrakech

We left our hotel and the gleaming whitewashed buildings of CasaBlanca early this morning for the four hour bus ride to Marrakech.  Every hour and a half the bus driver takes a break and so do we.  The comfort stops are well chosen for clean rest rooms, available snacks to purchase, and nice views.

The road followed the coast through newly built suburbs which the government has encouraged so that people will learn to commute to relieve the congestion of the city center.  Some are very expensive and some are more geared toward young professionals.  The state builds schools first and mosques.  Then housing follows.  Education in Morocco is free all the way through university, except for preschool. Parents feel pressured to send children to private preschool so they will not start out behind at kindergarten.  There are private schools which have smaller class sizes.  Public classrooms may have as many as 55 students for the teacher and her helpers.  However in the country many times parents do not send their children at all to school because they need help at home on the family farm.  They are afraid that the children will be “corrupted” by the education and want to leave for the cities.

We had a little education of our own about dialects of the Arabic language which is spoken commonly at home and between friends.  French is the official language. We quickly found that most people speak or at least understand some English even though it has only recently been begun to be taught in the schools.

As we drove the terrain changed and farms became prominent.  The buildings changed from the pristine white of Casablanca to the more natural salmon tint of adobe. Each complex of farm buildings is surrounded by a stone wall.  Moroccan culture likes to keep the beautiful women only for the eyes of their husbands and families.  The women do much or all of the farm work while the men take care of the business side of it.  The crops are grains, dates, tomatoes, and olives.  The men and boys tend the animals.  Donkeys are everywhere and most families can only afford to have one.

Upon arrival in Marrakech, sometimes spelled with Marrakesh with the variations even on street signs, we began our orientation bus tour after a lovely al fresco lunch at this chain restaurant.

We had our first experience of a Moroccan chopped salad.  It is served cold and consists of a minimum of four cooked and seasoned vegetables.  Everyone seemed to like the eggplant the best and would often ask for more.

Our first stop was the Koutoubia Mosque.  This was an ancient one unlike the one we visited yesterday.  It was built in 1147 in celebration of a victory over the Almoravids. The pillar bases of the original can still be seen.  It is often called the Booksellers Mosque because the surrounding souks sold manuscripts.  There was also a large library within the mosque.  The minaret has an interior circular ramp much like Copenhagen’s Rundtour.  The ramp allowed donkeys to carry building materials to the top and in later days to allow the muezzin to easily reach the top five times a day for the call to prayer.

There is a funny story that the muezzin had a record player and so recorded the call to prayer which was enhanced by the technologically advanced speaker system which allowed him to not need to climb up.  He was up late one night and was quite tired for the 4:45 a.m. call.  In his sleepiness he accidentally placed the wrong record and Edith Piaf woke the sleeping people of Marrakech.  The recordingwas henceforth forbidden.

We continued on to the Saadian Tombs. This is a fabulously ornate necropolis for the Saadian princes. A small portion was open for viewing in a corner of the palace. Marble tombs were an unusual shape in the dim light.  Walls and ceilings were also ornately decorated with typical archways also covered in lacy tile work.

We journeyed on to the Medina which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  A medina is a walled old city.  It is within the new city and is often no longer preserved with original buildings and inhabitants.  This one is unique in both size and vibrancy. Here the souk or shops are a tangled maze in which one could be easily lost. 

We focused on the Place Jamaa el-Fna.  This immense square has long been the heart of the city.  In years long past as many as 45 people could be beheaded in one day.  Their pickled heads were suspended from the city gate. Now markets are set up.  Everything is sold, fortunes are told, or hands are decorated with henna. Colorfully dressed jugglers, transvestite belly dancers (women cannot perform in public), dervishes, and snake charmers vie for your attention and for your dirham.  The current exchange rate is 9.7 dh for each dollar.  Children beg, bands compete for your ear, and vendors want you to try every manner of delicacy from lamb’s eyeballs to just lamb balls! 

Kahlid, our guide, is above in white.  He was finding coins to put sown so we could watch these special dancers perform.

The arriving throng was visiting the neat carts to purchase dinner or were enjoying the entertainment.



Crowds gathered on ‘terasses’ to have a drink and watch the sun set behind the minaret.

When my ears and eyes could handle no more ululating cries or flashing images of constantly changing colors it was blessedly time to return to the calm of the bus.  We were glad to find our way through the freshening crowd as more people poured into the emptying square to start the evening festivities.   Back at the hotel Elva and I made our way to our fifth floor room in the beautiful Lee Meridian Hotel and settled in for a quiet night.  We had a sandwich, and planned for an early start in the morning.  Elva showered and read for a while.  I wrote to you and sank into a deep tub of hot water to try to read as well.  We are glad to be here for three nights.