04/16/2014

Brian

So waking up at 7 am is never fun, and following it up with a three hour bus ride just adds insult to injury. Thus accurately describes the beginning of our trip to Fez. I wake up with a sore throat, but that quickly faded away. My first impression of Fez is of its overwhelming crowdedness. There are literally people walking around the cars as they drive through the street. We get out of the bus and are led to our hotel, or Riyad as it’s called here. A Riyad is essentially a large home that was converted into a hotel and is often based in the middle of the medina. Ours happened to be close to the outside, which was lucky for us. I, having never been in a Riyad, or Morocco for that matter, expected a hole in the wall. From the outside, that is exactly what we got. However, walking into the lobby, we are absolutely shocked. This place is absolutely gorgeous. Tile everywhere, artful rugs holding the dining table in the middle of the room down, a couch decorated with striped pillows is backed up to an octagonal-tiled wall at the entrance, where we promptly sat down to drink our welcome tea, which was divine. One problem I have with the tea here is how sweet it is, yet these people in the Riyad seem to have it down. Anyway, we get the room keys and are directed to just the steepest stairs I’ve ever seen. One step is easily ten inches tall, maybe more, and they’re narrow. I lay my bags down in a deep maroon room whose centerpiece is a four-posted queen size bed, which although is hard as a rock, has very beautiful pillows.

It is time to leave after we have settled down, and in the lobby stands an old, tired looking man named Taoufik. I find it funny that this man shares the same name as our Arabic teacher back at Bridges, and move on. As we walk into the medina, he tells us that this is the largest medina in the world, comprising of upward of 9000 streets, all packed to the brim with people, stores, and countless trinkets and other items. I am instantly taken aback by the sheer volume of things happening in the medina. First, we are immersed in the world of the medina, with men shouting their wares across the narrow corridors, women and children struggling to get by all the clutter in the medina, and the plethora of things. I am not saying things for lack of a better word, but because that is the best way to explain it. Literally anything that you can think of is for sale at a (moderately) cheap price in the medina of Fez. My friends behind me tell me to look at the people walking by, as many of them are looking at us (if you catch my drift) but I am simply overwhelmed by all the stores that we walk by. One store in particular that retains a spot in my memory is the tannery, where bags aplenty were made in the back, which we were shown from their rooftop. There are two things that make up the dyes used to color the bags, scarves, and just about any apparel in the medina. First are different types of flowers. Saffron makes yellow, lavender purple, etcetera, etcetera. All the pleasantry is put to shame when we learn of the second ingredient: the fecal matter of pigeons. As we are being told this, we surface at the top of the building and are blown away by a stench. When we look down, there are multiple pools of different color in one section of the “backyard” and different pools of a grayish-brownish color. The latter pools can only be assumed to be the pigeon poo. Anyway, we leave, quickly I might add, and begin looking for a place to eat. We walk into this place, and it is clearly a tourist trap. There is not a single local in the restaurant, save for the waiters. You would think that a tourist trap would be good. You’d be wrong. The chicken, which I ordered, was terrible. We left this place quickly as well and went on shopping. I’m not the best at haggling, which is customary in the medina, so I was broke quickly. On the bright side, I have some wonderful smelling hand lotion among other things. We finish up and head back, and call it a day. The medina is definitely something worth visiting, unless you happen to be claustrophobic.