Night at L' Djemme al Fna

It is dark and someplaces are so dark. Voices and people are all around and a bit farther off a chant is recognizable. Smoke from the food vendors sits above the crowd and tiny islands of musicians dot the large Medina. This is night at L' Djemme al Fna, one of the biggest markets in the world, and the largest in Africa.

During the heat of the day, people are everywhere. It is chaotic and wonderful, so unlike the world we are used to. The cars and scooters rush about, sprinkled with bikes and buses, as well as hundreds of people, even out here in the middle of new town. It looks as though everyone were rushing off to make the Obi Wan Kenobi open casting call. Arabic calligraphy is scribbled about, looking at first like leftover spaghetti. All the stores and vendors are open and everybody is talking to one and other. The sweet shop sells delicious cookies and tarts and is home to a buzzing hive of honey bees. All along the streets little booths line the way with security guards smiling with a friendly, "Salam a'lekum!" to which we reply, "Wa a'lekum a'salam!"

There are mosques all over with tall towers that the Iman climbs to broadcast his call to prayer, 5 times daily. There are shops of every convenience and usually a hammam. For about a buck you get to use the traditional baths. This means three heated rooms of different temperatures, buckets with hot water, and soap. You can stay as long as you want but most stay only an hour or so. A massage costs about 7 bucks more and is the best 7 bucks you will spend all year.

Just now you realize the movie on the big screen in the plaza is, "The Man Who Would be King," and the music brings you back. A man with a chicken on his head is playing guitar while his bandmates bang on the drums. The transvestite dancers solicit dirham from the crowd. Nearby a crosslegged turbaned man sits quietly next to a pile of bones and cards, a gruesome monkey head, mouth open, sits in front of him ready to accept payment. Blind men play music and there are bands as well. It is dark and smoky and a bit scary... so foriegn and great. There is nothing you can do to hide your out of town look.

Towards the edge of the crowd, past all the food vendors is the maze of the souks. It seems harmless, just a few small openings in the large wall. It feels familiar, like the Grand Bazaar, but it's darker with scooters and bikes. As soon as you have stopped gawking around you know you are lost. Like taking a wrong turn in an unexplored cave. The sheer size of the souks is huge, branching with secret passageways and thousands of shops. Anything and everything you can imagine is here. Ostrich eggs, goat heads, animal skins, live reptiles, foods and textiles, and other exotic crazy things. A bit of advice to tackling the souks and surviving: 1. Know what you want! 2. Know what you are willing to pay and what it is really worth. 3. Take a compass and water bro. Honestly, it doesn't matter if you have a compass if you have no map.

As we speed out of town, our hopes of renting a car diminish. Marrahkech uses a learned driving method and the beginners are shown no mercy. The city gives way to smaller shops and more and more countryside becomes visible. Off in the near distance, the mighty Atlas loom. A vast barrier between us and the Sahara. The Atlas jut out of the landscape and seem very out of place. Miles and miles of snowcapped peaks towering above the city. Further up into the mountains there are more stalls selling goods, and boys by the roadside sell berries. The road seems to end right into another souk. The river is close by and restaurants creep to the very edge of the market. A few dozen pack donkeys stand around in the river rock.

The trail to the waterfall winds through stalls and teashops almost all the way to the top of the falls. In fact there is one at the top. It feels like someone has shaken the Saturday Market out on the trail up to Multnomah Falls. There are many tourists here, most with guides. Pictures.

We pass many on the way down to a tagine restaurant by the riverside.

We realize after we are lost, that we are more lost than we thought. Our simple plan of attack to make a simple loop through the southern part of the souks has fallen apart. We exit the souks much farther south than we imagined, cause we were headed north. At this point a map would have helped. The tower of Koutoubia Mosque is visible off in the distance though and we manage to keep it in view, passing the snake charmers on the way to the bus stop.

Check out at the Marjane, like a big Fred Meyers, and the walk home is ten minutes or so. It has been dark now for at least an hour, and the traffic is the same. Our little neighborhood is awake and busy. As we get closer to our pad, the buildings give way to empty lots, some serve as soccer fields, others for sheep. Somewhere close by, in the maze of buildings, drums echo. Typical at night for this time of year

So far, Marrakech does not dissapoint.