Sauntering through the Marrakesh Souks

Four of us on the Gate 1 tour (3 women, 2 men including Bob and Mohamed Azim, the guide) decided to venture off tour with our own through Viator called the Hidden Sites Tour. We met at Cafe Argana in the square Jamaa El Fna (the snake charmer's hangout). Luckily, we had all been to the square the day before, so we knew where to meet. Mohamed gives us some background and history before we saunter into the souk under one of many gate entrances.

These photos were all taken before entering the souk. As you can see, there are several modes of transportation. The men who ride motorcycle conveyances seem to wear WWI era helmets for crash protection.

It is difficult to show traffic in the souk without videos. I took photos that show donkey carts being passed by motorcycles and bicycles in the crowded souk, zipping past the hobbling elderly with canes, parents with restless toddlers, and all sorts of shoppers unaware that a motorcycle is revving its noisy engine in annoyance. The more one travels, the less exotic and more normal this activity is. Truly, a lot of the world is like this. Very few accidents, Mohamed, our guide, assures us. 

The donkey deliveries crowd the passageways along with the motorcycles, which scare me the most because they go SO FAST! We Americans are so provincial and safety-conscious! (That's not a bad thing, is it?)

This tour would be especially good for those who had never experienced the production and marketing of Moroccan products. Our group has been in a couple of previous markets and we have been introduced to the Moroccan way of producing and selling items. Poor Mohamed and Bob...I say that because the three ladies are especially interested in shopping and purchasing. Sometimes, Mohamed helps, but the bargaining is primarily done by us savvy ladies. Bob and Mohamed do a lot of searching for a place to rest.

There are a lot of shops selling these beautiful slipper slides. No arch support, no padding. As pretty and desirable as they are, we three ladies wore fashionable high heels in our younger years, so none of us can justify or desire something so floppy.

As you might have seen in previous posts, this kind of area is a man's heaven. They are fashioning beautiful filigreed ironwork, a craft being taught from one generation to the next, as in this photo. The storage spaces behind them are filled with bits and pieces of things that "you never know when you'll need a little piece of a certain size" kind of detritus, so it's better to save all of it. But that is a woman's opinion and 180 degrees different than a man's.

Some of this was seen in previous posts. I love the filigreed brass lamps and the light that they cast. It seems magical. Those men above are likely creating these beauties.

I (meaning me, Kay, because you know I'm the writer, right?) am especially drawn to textiles in color, texture, and pattern. I'm not sure why this is my "thing." Other than I sewed my own clothes at an early age and thus, learned to ponder over, and work with fabrics. For a while, I had a four-harness weaving loom and made some designs (friend, Eleanore, was the impetus for that hobby). The loom is long gone, but my love of textiles remains. I found Moroccan rugs to be heart-tugging, pulse-pounding, eye candy. I want them all. (I usually have no tangible plans for them after the "wanting" part.) When the right brain talks to the left brain, however, the correct result occurs.

That blue one on the right seriously had my name on it. But my budget said, "Absolutely Not!" (Darn that right brain mentality!)

We didn't witness it, but Mohamed said that these piles of skins are being readied for an auction. Reminds me of the Fez tannery. These dead animal skins are made into Dior purses, those leather slippers, and anything else with leather. It's called re-purposing, until the animals are raised specifically for these products. Then it's called slaughter.

Speaking of slaughter, this goat or sheep has been cooking and smoking with many of its friends in a pit underground until it is just right. Then, it is time to cut and portion it out. The good Lord gave us these critters and we humans have decided how best to use them. 

Speaking of food, here's a community baking oven where the locals bring their bread to be baked. Bread is a revered product in Morocco. As I may have said previously, bread is considered to be the essence of life in Morocco. Even at garbage bins, bags for recycling bread are set aside. People can put in and take out stale bread for themselves or for their animals. It is sacred.

We visited a spice shop run by a delightful young man (whose name I've shamefully forgotten). He was so enthusiastic about his spices and introduced us to all of them. Of course, we had an opportunity to purchase, and we all did. They were so fresh and fragrant!

End of the tour and group photo time!

Mohamed and Bob get kudos for enduring (with no complaints) an expedition that included three women determined to shop.

Group photo with Diana, Linell, Mohamed, Bob and Kay.