As I mentioned before, my parents-in-law very kindly took us all for an amazing and inspiring trip to Morocco. We did so much and experienced so many things, and... I took a zillion photos or something. So obviously I've been eager to blog about this journey ever since.
So today, let me take you to Djemaa el Fna...
So today, let me take you to Djemaa el Fna...
The famous Djemaa el Fna square in the old medina of Marrakesh is a strange place. It's difficult to find the right words to describe it. It is mesmerizing. The bustling sounds and rousing music and the beautiful but to me incomprehensible words of the Arabian language are almost haunting and intoxicating. You can smell the heavy bbq fumes coming from the multitude of food stalls. Locals are circled around story tellers, who tell ancient stories in Berber or Arabic. A man is doing some tricks on a diabolo. There's a group of men making music, while a couple of meters away another group of men is making different music, drumming in a completely different beat. The square is elusive, it is hard to focus, it is a happy little chaos.
The square is near impossible to capture on camera, as locals understandably try to dodge the gaze of your camera and street vendors hound you for money if you even think about taking a photo. And boy, those street vendors are everywhere, trying to sell you about anything. Maybe they'll try to sell you a product. Dozens of similar lamps are laid out on the ground, and there are colourfully painted tajines that you can't actually use for cooking because of that paint, which you only find out when you're home and notice the wrapping paper taped to the tajine caused the paint to chip. Maybe they'll try to sell you a Moroccan experience. Covered women with thick eyeliner will beckon you from a distance to either tell your future or paint your arms in henna. And if you don't watch out, you'll step on a cobra. You're startled, and look to the snake charmer, who then asks you if you want to take a picture. For a small fee, of course. And before you know it, there's an illegally kept macaque wearing a diaper* on your shoulder, while the salesman probably wants money from you just for that. And all the while, there's an old and very fragile lady pulling your arm gently while asking for some change.
The square is near impossible to capture on camera, as locals understandably try to dodge the gaze of your camera and street vendors hound you for money if you even think about taking a photo. And boy, those street vendors are everywhere, trying to sell you about anything. Maybe they'll try to sell you a product. Dozens of similar lamps are laid out on the ground, and there are colourfully painted tajines that you can't actually use for cooking because of that paint, which you only find out when you're home and notice the wrapping paper taped to the tajine caused the paint to chip. Maybe they'll try to sell you a Moroccan experience. Covered women with thick eyeliner will beckon you from a distance to either tell your future or paint your arms in henna. And if you don't watch out, you'll step on a cobra. You're startled, and look to the snake charmer, who then asks you if you want to take a picture. For a small fee, of course. And before you know it, there's an illegally kept macaque wearing a diaper* on your shoulder, while the salesman probably wants money from you just for that. And all the while, there's an old and very fragile lady pulling your arm gently while asking for some change.
At daytime, the djemaa is relatively quiet. The huge square is almost empty but for the occasional snake charmers and monkey.. keepers?.
And then there are the orange juice stalls. There are maybe 6 stalls next to each other, selling the exact same thing for only a couple of dirham.
After we strolled around a warm Marrakesh one morning, we craved something refreshing to drink. So we figured we'd buy an orange juice. Walking up to the stalls, all the vendors started screaming excitedly. Come here! They tell you. We have the best ones! Come here! Here!
You pick one randomly, as the stalls all look the same anyway.
The vendor is very happy you chose him, but the other vendors? Not so much. They literally yelled at us, the whole time we were standing there and drinking our orange juice. F#ck youuuu, one screamed. I don't care about you anymore!! F#ck youuu, while giving me the finger and giving me very very angry looks. Man. On one hand I find it funny. On the other hand, it really was incredibly obnoxious. Hey man, we just wanted some OJ, you know?. (The orange juice was really really good btw)
And then there are the orange juice stalls. There are maybe 6 stalls next to each other, selling the exact same thing for only a couple of dirham.
After we strolled around a warm Marrakesh one morning, we craved something refreshing to drink. So we figured we'd buy an orange juice. Walking up to the stalls, all the vendors started screaming excitedly. Come here! They tell you. We have the best ones! Come here! Here!
You pick one randomly, as the stalls all look the same anyway.
The vendor is very happy you chose him, but the other vendors? Not so much. They literally yelled at us, the whole time we were standing there and drinking our orange juice. F#ck youuuu, one screamed. I don't care about you anymore!! F#ck youuu, while giving me the finger and giving me very very angry looks. Man. On one hand I find it funny. On the other hand, it really was incredibly obnoxious. Hey man, we just wanted some OJ, you know?. (The orange juice was really really good btw)
This man at #42 was particularly angry. He gestured and yelled at us the whole time.
We had roasted vegetables, couscous, 6 plates of skewers, and 3 plates of fish. Waaaay too much.
At the end of the afternoon, the food stalls are set up. All of a sudden the empty square is packed with people. Recruiters try to lure you to their food stall. As they find out you're Dutch, they blurt out all the famous Dutch people they can remember. Aaaah, Máxima, they'll nod approvingly, while they next mention every Dutch soccer player they know. One even shows a photo of Gordon, a famous Dutch singer, eating at their food stall.
When you finally decide on a particular stall (we chose #15), no one screams insults at you (thankfully), but instead all the employees at the stall cheeringly welcome you and applaud loudly, while employees from other stalls display good sportsmanship and clap along (albeit a little disappointed).
Plates and plates of food then appear at your table, and even though we were a group of six hungry people, we couldn't eat that much food for the life of us. Beggars then showed up at our table, quietly, so the employees wouldn't notice. They asked for the leftovers. We were happy to give it away as we were so full already, so we scraped every last peace of meat and fish into their plastic bags.
When you finally decide on a particular stall (we chose #15), no one screams insults at you (thankfully), but instead all the employees at the stall cheeringly welcome you and applaud loudly, while employees from other stalls display good sportsmanship and clap along (albeit a little disappointed).
Plates and plates of food then appear at your table, and even though we were a group of six hungry people, we couldn't eat that much food for the life of us. Beggars then showed up at our table, quietly, so the employees wouldn't notice. They asked for the leftovers. We were happy to give it away as we were so full already, so we scraped every last peace of meat and fish into their plastic bags.
Stacks and stacks of bowls
Next up was the souk, surrounding the djemaa. A souk is a traditional Moroccan market. Here you can find everything. Spices, soaps, beautiful leather bags (which I sadly didn't buy for a reason I'll explain in another post), scarves, tajines, hookahs (even though we never saw any hookah actually being used in Morocco), clothes, fresh food products, argan oil, CDs, live animals.. everything. The only 2 things I find difficult are: 1) haggling. I'm not good at it and I don't like it. No matter how low the price is, I always feel I'm still being ripped off. And sometimes, I just want to know what it costs, and then decide if I want it. I am still a typical frugal Netherlander after all, not one for impulse buying ;). But asking for the price immediately turns into haggling. But me wanting to know the price of something, doesn't mean I want to buy it, so why haggle for it? And then after the haggling, the salesman is disappointed and/or offended for going through the trouble of haggling and then you not buying it.
and 2) when you even look at something, it will prompt the salesman to not only get it out from wherever it was (a carpet hanging on a wall, a piece of jewellery in a locked cabinet, a tajine from the top shelf) but also will get out similar products. Just by looking at something, I almost feel obligated to buy it. You feel guilty when the salesman gets it out just for you, even if you didn't ask him to. Because you didn't intend to buy anything and now the salesman has to put it all back, for nothing. And I know it's all just a game, really, the haggling and stuff. And I know the salesmen probably make you feel guilty knowingly, but still. You still feel guilty. And very uncomfortable.
and 2) when you even look at something, it will prompt the salesman to not only get it out from wherever it was (a carpet hanging on a wall, a piece of jewellery in a locked cabinet, a tajine from the top shelf) but also will get out similar products. Just by looking at something, I almost feel obligated to buy it. You feel guilty when the salesman gets it out just for you, even if you didn't ask him to. Because you didn't intend to buy anything and now the salesman has to put it all back, for nothing. And I know it's all just a game, really, the haggling and stuff. And I know the salesmen probably make you feel guilty knowingly, but still. You still feel guilty. And very uncomfortable.
I once went to Izmir with a girlfriend. In the bazaar similar to the souk in Marrakesh, shady men hounded us and invited us to go to their uncle's nephew's friend's carpet store to 'only drink coffee' and such. We found it horrible and we wanted to leave Izmir asap because of it. In Marrakesh, the level of hounding was ten times worse.
BUT.
The Djemaa and everything around it and everything that goes along with it, is something everyone should experience when visiting Marrakesh. It leaves you impressed and you get a little peek into Moroccan city life and culture. While I think you do have to be a bit confident as a traveler in Marrakesh, and you have to have a good head on your shoulders to make sure you're not being ripped off, it really is an incredible experience. Hounding and street vendors included. Again, it leaves you mesmerized. That square sharpens all your senses. And although sellers and vendors come across as pushy and very much in-your-face and a bit intimidating at times, they are actually quite harmless. Oh, and speaking a bit of French goes a long way in Morocco. Just practice saying 'No thank you. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested' in French (Non merci. Je suis desolée, mais je suis pas intéressée) and soon all the sellers disappear.
And if I could give one tip to those market sellers: Please. Just let me browse and look around. Tell me that if I need help, I can ask you. But don't shove your products in my face, as lovely as they may be. I probably would've bought everything in that souk if I just felt comfortable enough to take my time and look for things I really love. And umm, orange juice vendors.. Please don't yell at us for not picking you. If you didn't yell, maybe we would've come back another day to try your I'm sure very special and unique orange juice! ;)
*seeing a man changing a monkey's diaper while the monkey is also chained is probably one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed
BUT.
The Djemaa and everything around it and everything that goes along with it, is something everyone should experience when visiting Marrakesh. It leaves you impressed and you get a little peek into Moroccan city life and culture. While I think you do have to be a bit confident as a traveler in Marrakesh, and you have to have a good head on your shoulders to make sure you're not being ripped off, it really is an incredible experience. Hounding and street vendors included. Again, it leaves you mesmerized. That square sharpens all your senses. And although sellers and vendors come across as pushy and very much in-your-face and a bit intimidating at times, they are actually quite harmless. Oh, and speaking a bit of French goes a long way in Morocco. Just practice saying 'No thank you. I'm sorry, but I'm not interested' in French (Non merci. Je suis desolée, mais je suis pas intéressée) and soon all the sellers disappear.
And if I could give one tip to those market sellers: Please. Just let me browse and look around. Tell me that if I need help, I can ask you. But don't shove your products in my face, as lovely as they may be. I probably would've bought everything in that souk if I just felt comfortable enough to take my time and look for things I really love. And umm, orange juice vendors.. Please don't yell at us for not picking you. If you didn't yell, maybe we would've come back another day to try your I'm sure very special and unique orange juice! ;)
*seeing a man changing a monkey's diaper while the monkey is also chained is probably one of the saddest things I've ever witnessed