From Movies & Mountains to Marrakesh (10.8.07)

It was sad to have to leave our palatial accomodations in Ouarzazate today, and it was made even more so when Aziz started warning as about our Marrakesh accomodations as soon as we got in the bus. Today marks the real winding down of the trip as we leave the remote villages and head to the up-and-coming cosmopolitan city of Marrakesh.

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Leaving Ouarzazate we first stopped to take photos of several film studios. It turns out that Ouarzazate in the country´s film center, and many movies (see photo above) have been shot in the region. These include Gladiator, The Last Temptation of Christ, Sahara, and Kingdom of Heaven. We continued a few km past these studios and hopped out at an overlook of a famous kasbah, Ait Benhaddou. At this particular stop we encountered a very sweet old man, nearly toothless and dirty, who had two green water snakes that he posed for photos with in exchange for a few dirham. Aziz said he came upon this man last year while leading a tour and found the man in tears because one of his snakes had died due to some unusually cold weather. I can only imagine how this man must be attached to these skinny green snakes as they are probably the only thing earning him a living and have become like family.

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The Ait Benhaddou Kasbah is the largest, best preserved, and certainly the most filmed of the kasbahs in the region. Though it has been the site of several movies and is a historical site, the government has also ¨given¨it to several poor families of the area to live in. Thus, despite the historical significance as being founded in the 11th century on a caravan route between Teloet and Oaurzazate and its registry on the UNESCO World Heritage site, it still has families sprinkled upon and within its dusty structures and there are pens within the Kasbah that hold their goats, sheep, and cattle.

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We continued driving west and the landscape began to dramatically change just as the road begain to rise and curve. We were entering the High Atlas Mountains which are the highest range in North Africa. As we rose higher and higher and started seeing cedar and pine trees growing along the mountain face, we also began seeing 7-foot high yellow poles sticking out of the ground on the side of the road. This area gets significant snowfall in the winter and these poles both delineate the outside edge of the road for drivers and indicate the depth of the snow. I understand that they have storms in which the poles all but disappear!

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We stopped for an unusually early lunch of soup, a Berber omelette, rice, and yogurt. My original plan upon returning to the bus was either to nap or to write myself into a stupor during the 5 hour journey to Marrakesh. However, the landscape was far to spectacular to do anything but gape out the window of the bus. We climbed and climbed narrow roads with dozens of hairpin turns and looked out over green and grey mountain valleys of rock and reforested trees. On the slopes above were herds of mountain goats precariously picking their way across the vegetation and eating plant matter that was completely invisible to our eyes. In one scenic overlook where the group stopped to take photos I had to step over the ¨guard¨rail on the face of a 70-degree slope in order to ¨pass water.¨It was the only place I could find, and even in this case if the cars below looked up they would have seen an unusual sight.

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Marrakesh is a city of only 1.5 million, but compared to Casablanca (a city of 8 million), Marrakesh seems like the bigger city and is definitely the wealthier one. We entered the city around 3:00 on and the first thing you notice (after the wide avenues, the palm trees, and the gardens) are the construction cranes. Everywhere you turn there is some sort of construction going on - either remodeling of existing buildings or new buildings arising on reclaimed land from old structures. Most of the market appears to be of high-end hotels and condos, so it looks like despite their expulsion from Morocco in 1956, the French are returning in force for their retirement. Aziz said that Marrakesh is considered Morocco´s garden city, known for its well-planned and maintained gardens throughout the city, the golden brown buildings, and its wide avenues. Within 10 minutes of entering city limits, I would add two more things to that list: its smog and its satellite dishes. Though Morocco supposedly has emissions inspections, I gather that they either fall under the ¨bribery¨system or trucks and motorcycles are exempt. This is based on the amount of blue acrid smoke we kept sucking into the bus´A/C system during our drive.

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The hotel turned out to be more disappointing than we had prepared ourselves for. The room was the size of a postage stamp, the satellite dish didn´t pick up more than two fuzzy arabic channels, and our view was of demolition rubble (used as a local privy) and a construction site that woke us up in the morning. There are squatters living at the site and I am curious to know whether they have paid off the construction workers in order to live there, or whether they are workers themselves who are paid to stay there and protect the work.

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After a futile attempt to find internet, Mom and I gave up and passed time until we met the group for dinner at the landmark Djemaa El Fna square. The square, which was absolutely teeming with people, sounds, smells, and colors, has a night face and a day face which are very distinct. The night face that we were introduced to first includes groups of musicians that set up on milk crates with small amplifiers and are surrounded by locals eager to listen to the traditional music or storytellers. There are dozens of horse carriages lined up along the square. While such things are usually novelty tourist rides in most American cities, these carriages are honest-to-goodness taxis in Marrakesh and will take you anywhere in the city that you want to go.

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The most prominent feature of the square were the dozens of green metal food stalls, all lit up with rows of white light bulbs and identified only with a number. We learned that they set up every night and are cleared away every day before day break and are traditionally packed with locals. Number 22 ended up being our destination for the night, and upon sitting down they started bringing out dozens of small plates of spinach, beans, calimari, fries, onion spread, soups,and bread. I was stuffed by the third dish and sadly had to pass up the ice cream that the group had after dinner at yet another food stall once the meal was over.

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We wandered through the square a little bit, but I have to admit that it was extremely uncomfortable at times. We had heard about pickpockets from Aziz, and right after one member of our group warned me that some kids had been eyeing the knee pocket of my cargo pants, I actually witnesses a guy try to steal the camera out of the hand of another member of the group. I confronted the guy right after it happened, but didn´t know what to do beyond yelling at him a little (though he pretended he didn´t know what I was talking about.) I wish I had thought to grab him by the arm and to start shouting thief. Apparently the square is crawling with both uniformed and undercover police officers who are keen to protect the tourists (aka the walking ATMs of the Moroccan economy). After that we were all ready to get out of there and none too soon. In all, it was an eventful first experience with Marrakesh.