After securing lodging at the Hotel
Central Palace, we arrived, still giddy and keen eyed, at the place
Djemma El Fnaa, the “Assembly of the Dead” named, probably, for the
habit (only recently broken!) of publicly displaying the lopped off
heads of various rebels and criminals. This town “square” (really more
of a 13 sided polygon) is the cultural navel of Marrakech. A gathering
place for vendors, snake charmers, musicians, dancers, henna artists,
orange juice stands, dentists, storytellers, fakirs, hustlers and
countless other people of various and endless description. Though it is
tempting to write the whole thing off as mere bubble gum for tourists,
the Disney-ification of Morocco, a closer look reveals that this is a
thing for and of Moroccans as much as it is a tourist attraction.
Berber families comprise the bulk of the onlookers, and the stories
told in Arabic were lost on me (as too were the services of various
open air dentists, piles of molars proudly displayed next to the mat
and pliers) The apothecary had a creative angle. In the midst of their
various herbs, tinctures and potions stood a weathered and battered cut-a-way life sized model of the human head and torso. The idea appears to
be that you point at the afflicted part of your body and the proper
remedy is dispensed post haste.
It is endlessly fascinating. And if this weren’t exotic and
vibrant enough, from here you can descend into the warren of alleyways
known as the souks. These slot canyons of commerce give insight into
life in a medieval town. Everything one needs is right here, and
usually amazingly displayed. Spices and olives and dates in immaculate
pyramids. Rugs and scarves effortlessly and elegantly draped on walls.
Glittering brass and silver glinting in the few rays of sunlight that
penetrate to ground level. And there are always tantalizing glimpses
down alleyways, revealing darkness and light. After some hours spent
aimlessly strolling, we diverged from the main stream of commerce down
one of these quiet alleys. Ignoring the helpful guidance of small boys
who figured we were lost (c.f. puppies) we wandered at random and found
ourselves in a nameless open area just as the afternoon call to prayer
wafted towards us from 3 different mosques.
Here are a few images from the alleyways of Marrakech:
