We started our journey in Morocco by spending two nights in Fez, and we were impressed by the authenticity of the town and medina (the old city). The medina is over two thousand years old, and many people have maintained their traditional lifestyles. For example, people buy chicken meat in a way that would horrify PETA activists. In the medina, a shop keeps live chickens and sells them based on their weight. People go to the store and select a chicken to purchase. The shop owner then weighs the live chicken and charges the customer. After this, the chicken is slaughtered and given to the hungry customer. Also, donkeys and carts are the primary means of transporting goods around the medina. This makes for interesting traffic jams since the medina is packed with people and only four feet wide. The experience was even more authentic because of the few tourists in Fez during the off season.
Wanting to get in touch with our Jewish heritage, we visited the Mellah (traditional Jewish quarter) in Fez. Like many other cities in Morocco, Fez had a thriving Jewish community until the 1950s. French comedian Gad Elmaleh was born in Fez, and Maimonides also lived in Fez. We were shown his home by a local who explained that “Jew man” once lived there. Surprisingly, there is no museum and the house is currently occupied by a local muslim family. We were given a tour of the Jewish quarter by a Moroccan Jewish man claiming to be responsible for restoring the Jewish sites. He explained that he was in several documentaries about the Jewish community in Fez, but he was surprisingly not willing to give us his name or contact info. Furthermore, he told us that over 100 Jewish families live in Fez. After a 10 minute tour of the neighborhood, he demanded 200 Dirham and a pack of Marlbro cigarettes for restoring the Jewish sites. While we were intially excited to run into a Moroccan Jew, we realized that the whole thing was pretty sketchy when we were buying him cigarettes. Plus, we walked away with only seeing the door of the synagogue.
We spent the afternoon walking around the medina, and Rachelle fell into a ditch on our way out. Unsurprisingly, her fall caused plenty of attention as Moroccans wavered between laughing hysterically and wanting to help. Because Rachelle hurt her ankle, we sat outside the medina waiting for her to feel better. After a few minutes, a Moroccan man drove up in an empty cart that is normally used to carry produce around town. He offered to give us a tour of the medina for twenty dirham, and we gladly accepted. Despite the awkard looks and dangers associated with riding around in produce carts, the tour allowed us to see Fez from a whole different perspective. Rachid, our driver, initially told us the tour would last about 15 minutes. However, we spent over three hours with him as he took us to a nearby village up in the mountains. We told him we wanted to visit a hamam, and he said that he knew of a great one nearby. The nearby hamam was about twenty minutes from the Medina, and it was located in a visibly poor town. The town was full of trash and the infrastructure was not well developed. Also, the people in the town looked shocked to see us. We’re not sure if it was because we were riding through the souq in a produce cart or because we were foriegners.
The hamam was pretty interesting. Locals go to hamams instead of showering because it is cheaper than showering at home. A hamam is like a sauna with people pouring hot water on themselves. I was worried about the floor being dirty, so I made sure to keep my crocs on in the hamam. However, when it was time for a “massage,” I was told to lay on my stomach on the floor. At least my feet stayed clean. For those that don’t know, the massage is an intense scrub and it is anything but relaxing. Since men and women are seperated in the hamams, Rachelle had to do the hammam by herself despite the language barriers. I handed Rachelle the lonely planet and told her she would be okay because there are a few basic French words in it. She was esorted in and placed on a bench where women began undressing her and speaking Arabic. She was given stares and looks of confusion when she refused to let the woman take her bra off. At this point, she still thought she was going to be taken to a private area to be scrubbed. Rachelle was led into a huge shower room where naked women and children, boys included, were sitting against the walls throwing tubs of water onto themselves. Rachelle sat on the wet floor confused as to what was to come next. A woman rushed over speaking Arabic, laid her down, and began scrubbing.
Due to the slow internet connection and French keyboard, it took us three hours to write this post. We are off to dinner now and will write more in the next few days.
Moshe 