OOM 2: In the Night Market's Sound
September 7, 2010
As night falls over Fes-al-Bali, it's easy to slip into the historic medina, the medieval walled city-within-a-city, unnoticed. Narrow alleys, crowded souks, music, people, the small amounts of light reflecting off complicated metal work in stalls, the riotous colours of rugs and pottery, the smell of spices in the warm air; it's a different world to the one Jack is used to, and as he slips through the crowds he still looks around in awe; though not without some regret as well. Every sight, every step seems to remind him of how much Chris would love this place. Somehow, heading halfway around the world has only sharpened his longing to see her again, though hope of seeing anyone in the bar again is fading.
He's been in Fez for two weeks now, his fourth month of living in exile, and for all it reminds him of Chris, and then the others in the bar, he's glad for the change in scenery. It at least helps take his mind off some of his problems, as exploring and experiencing this new culture--a place where Europe and Islam collide--is a good distraction from the ever-present need to be on guard. But somehow, even this change of pace isn't quite working as well as his previous moves have. Sitting on his bed in the dumpy little hostel where he's renting a room, the ever-present noise is getting to him, he's jumping at every sound outside his door. And it's when he gets most twitchy that he heads out into the city, looking for distraction, and usually his steps take him toward the medina.
It's easy to get lost there as over the years the walkways and alleys have changed shape, spread out like the roots of an ancient tree, crossing eachother, twisting and turning until it's easy to get disoriented. Jack's innate sense of direction, along with a few days experience of walking the medina, has given him a basic knowledge of the pathways within it, and the route he takes is a simple, now-familiar one.
On his second day in the city, he'd found a small cafe away from the more touristy parts closer to the main gate. It's the kind of place where locals visit, with simple, cheap fare, but it tastes good and it's filling. It's a simple place--somewhere to eat and gather, without much attention paid to the decor. The patrons sit on benches on either side of long tables, and more often than not they end up squashed next to complete strangers.
It's fairly busy when Jack walks in, doing a scan of the room out of habit. There are a couple of people there who look like other "off the beaten path" tourists, but other than that, just the same locals he recognised from the last few nights. He takes a seat and orders, then leans on the table listening to the conversations around him. He's picked up some Arabic on his travels and eavesdropping can be an interesting way to practice.