Sunday Fez Market without being tethered & transition to London & Oxford
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| 2019
As I mentioned in my first blog to Maraketch we had a wonderful trip here as graduate students in 1993. Many of the traditions have been preserved and it is still a magical and mysterious place mixing up long held traditions with modernization. Here are a couple of pictures of us from that time.
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| John 1993 |
About 300,000 people live in this medina often called a souk. However, apparently 10% of the houses are uninhabitable and in disrepair. Thankfully UNESCO and the Moroccan government are giving money to help restore some of the homes for local people to be able to live in. We are eager to explore this endless labyrinth of alleys, discover for ourselves and even get lost without the chains of our guide who claimed we would be taken advantage of without his professional guidance. What a glorious, freeing experience this is, dispelling any thoughts of aggressive stall keepers out to take advantage. Steve gets to buy his sugary donut!
When we say ‘no thank you’ stall owners are respectful and do not pursue with the best prices dialogue. When lost they give us accurate directions and are helpful without asking for tips. We go into one pottery store where I learn about pottery from a wood-fired kiln which takes many hours versus a gas-fired kiln. The store owner stands on a plate that has been wood-fired to demonstrate its strength. The store keeper leaves us alone to explore the beautiful pottery without any sales pitch.
In another store where we see a man weaving a carpet, the store keeper tells us that he doesn’t deal with guides. The reason being is that they want a 50% commission! This confirms our worry about our guide from the day before who very likely only took us to places where he got a commission while telling us if we went anywhere else we would be taken advantage of. Marie buys two blankets/rugs for $30. I can’t image how they can make any money on this low price.
One rather funny event was my effort to get a picture of a team of donkeys carrying leather skins. As the donkeys go by and I try to focus my camera I am hit from behind by a donkey. Those men on the street who witnessed this were laughing hysterically and gave me the thumbs up. My pants are wet through to my underwear with some kind of donkey moisture. Unfortunately, once again a prize picture escaped me.
When we say ‘no thank you’ stall owners are respectful and do not pursue with the best prices dialogue. When lost they give us accurate directions and are helpful without asking for tips. We go into one pottery store where I learn about pottery from a wood-fired kiln which takes many hours versus a gas-fired kiln. The store owner stands on a plate that has been wood-fired to demonstrate its strength. The store keeper leaves us alone to explore the beautiful pottery without any sales pitch.
In another store where we see a man weaving a carpet, the store keeper tells us that he doesn’t deal with guides. The reason being is that they want a 50% commission! This confirms our worry about our guide from the day before who very likely only took us to places where he got a commission while telling us if we went anywhere else we would be taken advantage of. Marie buys two blankets/rugs for $30. I can’t image how they can make any money on this low price.
One rather funny event was my effort to get a picture of a team of donkeys carrying leather skins. As the donkeys go by and I try to focus my camera I am hit from behind by a donkey. Those men on the street who witnessed this were laughing hysterically and gave me the thumbs up. My pants are wet through to my underwear with some kind of donkey moisture. Unfortunately, once again a prize picture escaped me.
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Goat feet |
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Snails  |
It is hard to describe the soul of this market and all its visions, sounds, feelings and smells. There are mosques, universities, fortresses and hundreds of trader stalls all mashed together. A stall selling I-phones and electronic equipment is next to a stall selling garlic or camel heads. There are stalls of colorful spices, dried fruits, dates, figs, nuts, and black soap. There are streets of slippers, leather bags, and people sewing clothing with ancient machines or cutting leather. We pass again through streets of wooden or bronze or copper artisans working intensely on their products with wooden hammers. Still other alleys have piles of nougat, pear cactus, boiled snails, rose petals and goat feet and heads. There are stalls of beautiful cobalt blue pottery and glazed ceramic. The scene is overwhelming and I think that one of these pottery pieces alone without all the hundreds of others would be spectacular in one’s home.
There are no motor vehicles so we share the path with donkeys and men hauling heavy wagons all rushing down slippery and cobbled alleys. We revisit the tanning vats taking a view from a different place. I am mesmerized by this scene and how it has lasted for generations. I worry about the people working here. What salary do they get? Are they paid more or less than the other artisans in the market?
We end our 3-hour self-guided tour feeling confident that we don’t need a guide to enjoy this experience. We have a lovely lunch at a beautiful garden place, forgoing chicken tagine. Late afternoon I decide to join John in trying out the hamman heat saunas plus the excoriating skin process. John also has a massage which he says is the best one of the trip! I think my hamman experience is a bit like going through a car wash where I am heated with steam one moment followed by a hose spray. On this evening once again we have drinks on the hotel rooftop enjoying the amazing view. I try to take a picture to capture the sight but know the essence of the feeling really can’t be captured.
Waking up Monday morning in London in another culture.
Transitions are a bit mind boggling for me. The room in our favorite small hotel (Dukes) in London suddenly looks very small, plain and colorless after all the ceramic-tiled mosaic walls, painted, carved ceilings, decorated arches and ornate chairs.The hotel staff and the tourists are dressed in grey suits and vests rather than colorful hooded jellabas with red fez hats and babouche slippers.While the hotel staff are very friendly and helpful they don’t have the same cultural mystery. I listen for the calls to prayer 5 times a day but not only are they absent but even Big Ben is silent due to it being remodeled. I miss the exotic nature of the markets in Fez especially. Nonetheless we head out for our first day of touring by attending an audio self-guided tour of the House of Commons and the House of Lords at Westminster Hall with tales of medieval kings such as King Charles’ first beheading and the latest details of the politics of Brexit. Out on the street are thousands of people protesting the environmental dangers that lie ahead including one person who is selling Trump toilet paper. Many roads are closed. The Mueller report has been partially revealed and I am sucked into the moral dilemmas of what to do about King Trump. It doesn’t take long to get into a more current world mind set. I look forward to afternoon British tea with a scone but unfortunately it won’t be mint tea elegantly poured from above into small glasses! I will focus on the quality of the clotted cream ~ double or triple clot!
After Marie and Steve leave we go to Oxford for 4 days. We have many memories here because we lived here for 2 years during did two sabbaticals and we meet up with friends each day. We stay in the Old Parsonage our favorite place built in 1600. We spend one day at Blenheim Palace with our friends and their daughter who was Anna's Oxford friend when we lived there. She is with her husband and her 18-month old girl. I remember these two girls at 4 years of age and can hardly believe we are back here 28 years later and it feels like yesterday.
After Marie and Steve leave we go to Oxford for 4 days. We have many memories here because we lived here for 2 years during did two sabbaticals and we meet up with friends each day. We stay in the Old Parsonage our favorite place built in 1600. We spend one day at Blenheim Palace with our friends and their daughter who was Anna's Oxford friend when we lived there. She is with her husband and her 18-month old girl. I remember these two girls at 4 years of age and can hardly believe we are back here 28 years later and it feels like yesterday.
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