Dad and Stepmom now in Spain
This is the letter my dad sent about their time in Morocco. Glad they are ok, very cool they got a front seat to history.
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Hello all. At present we are near Avila Spain. We will be writing
about that soon, but I need to catch us up to date about Morocco.
The morning of the 20th there was to be a political protest and rally.
We had emailed Chris and Maryam (the Americans who run Peacock
Pavilions in Marrakech, where we would be staying) to see if there had
been any warnings from the US consulate about the protests. Chris
sent us the bulletin he had received which stated that the protests
would all be starting in Riad, Fez, Marrakech and Casablanca at 10 am,
and gave the street locations in each city. In Casablanca, the
protest would run down two streets that connected at a large square.
We googled the locations in Casablanca and discovered that our hotel
was just a few blocks away from the epicenter of activity. So we
decided to stay in the hotel, and to keep checking the news on the
internet and BBC TV, to follow what transpired. We could hear no
unusual noises that morning when we went to breakfast. The streets
around us had people who appeared quite normal and were unhurried and
unharried. Around 1:00 pm, we heard news reports that stated that
the protests were over in Casablanca and that they had been very
peaceful, with the police and protesters cooperating with each other.
We decided to venture out, and cautiously make our way to the ancient
Medina about six blocks away. On the way we passed by a small group
of about fifteen men who were quite agitated and were yelling at each
other. We walked around them, both of us aware, but not really
worried. We saw what looked like a reasonably priced café a block
later and went in and had a late lunch. It was tasty, inexpensive and
filling.
After lunch we walked past the protest site and saw little evidence
that anything had happened. It was clean and orderly and there were
no police or military in evidence. We crossed into the entrance of
the Medina. This is where we had our first real adventure.
We started walking through the Medina. There are parts of the Medina
that are dedicated to specific kinds of things for sale. Some parts
sell fruits and vegetables, some parts sell leather goods, some sell
pottery, some sell clothing, and many other things as well. These
different sections are called “souks”. We had walked through a couple
of different souks, one for fruit and vegetables, and one for
clothing. We walked back towards the entrance and were looking at a
display of small pots when we were approached by a man. It was his
“shop” and he wanted to know if we wanted anything. We said we were
not interested and then he asked us where we had visited in the
Medina. He was shocked that we had not seen the spice market. He
offered to take us there. Both Jane and I knew that we should NOT go
with this man because he was not an official guide. We had read all
the warnings. We followed him anyway.
For the next two hours we and Achmed went through the Medina. We went
to the spice market where we smelled and tasted and guessed. We
bought spices for “Tangine” cooking. We visited obscure back alley
shops which sold oils or olives or breads or beads. We stopped and
talked to people on the streets, investigated the insides of shops
(one of the most interesting was the public oven); and at one point
crawled up six flights of stairs in a lightless, windowless building
to reach the rooftop where we could look over the entire Medina. We
were given tastes, encouraged to smell, paused to listen and generally
tried to absorb the marketplace. One of the things that made us feel
comfortable with Achmed was his relationship with children. Wherever
we went, when he would see children, he would stop and talk with them.
He was not being patronizing, rather he very much obviously liked
children and they all in turn liked him. When we came down from the
rooftop on the darkened stairs, at one point we ran into a group of
about five children and a mother playing near the stairs. Achmed did
his thing, talking, playing, teasing. He then introduced the children
to Jane (I was five steps below) and all the girls came up and gave
her a kiss on the cheek.
By the time we were done with our tour, it was after 5:30 pm. We
decided to start back. I had asked Achmed where I could get post
cards and he asked us to wait so he could find some. He assured us he
would be back in three minutes. Twenty minutes later he appeared with
postcards, saying they were his gift to us. I think post cards are
not a big selling item in the Medina. We thanked him and said
goodbye. When saying goodbye he taught us that in Morocco one kisses
the cheeks three times rather than the common two cheek kisses of
Europe. He then walked with us towards the street. He knew
something that we did not: the protestors were back.
As we crossed the street we noticed many police. There was also a
large crowd a block away from us listening to someone speaking with a
loud speaker. The police were attentive but not stressed. People
around us were interested but not anxious. We stood and watched for a
little while the traffic went by and then went back to our hotel.
Outside of that area everything appeared calm and normal. As we were
not hungry, we decided to forego dinner and just stay in our hotel.
We talked and read and watched a little of CNN about Libya and
Egypt... and Morocco. The TV showed some violence in Marrakech.
Again we were a bit concerned. Then we heard the noise of the
protestors coming nearer. I grabbed our camera and we went out onto
our balcony and watched. The people came down the street, chanting
and singing and we saw and video recorded. It was a wonderful feeling
to see it all. And the next day we went to Marrakech. That video and
some photos of Casablanca are posted on Shutterfly.
The link is: http://janeandlannystravelsite.shutterfly.com/