Day 9: Fes (Day 1)
Our drivers gathered all of us together
for breakfast the next morning, saying they had something rather alarming to
tell us!!
It seems that the previous day, some men outside our campground had watched the arrival of our Love Bus, whereupon bartering for Leanne, our bubbly, buxom, blonde nurse had ensued, with a value of six camels eventually being assigned to her.
In several Middle Eastern cultures, notably the Bedouin, it is traditional for the groom to pay a "bride price" to the bride's family, usually in livestock. Though I, personally, did not fully understand this custom, I accepted that Moroccans had to the right to decide and live with their own internal policies, as they applied to their own citizens.
But we ladies were visitors, and thus guests, in Morocco. By discussing our camp-mate as a sexual object, the men lurking outside our camp were not talking about her cultural value as a bride. They were indulging their own prurient interests!
The majority of our group was highly perturbed by the news our drivers had brought to our attention. A threat to our personal safety was, indeed, NO laughing matter!
We were emancipated, free-thinking Western women who did not relish being thought of as mere chattels. Regardless of her age, religion, culture or country, an undervalued woman is an endangered woman!
It seems that the previous day, some men outside our campground had watched the arrival of our Love Bus, whereupon bartering for Leanne, our bubbly, buxom, blonde nurse had ensued, with a value of six camels eventually being assigned to her.
In several Middle Eastern cultures, notably the Bedouin, it is traditional for the groom to pay a "bride price" to the bride's family, usually in livestock. Though I, personally, did not fully understand this custom, I accepted that Moroccans had to the right to decide and live with their own internal policies, as they applied to their own citizens.
But we ladies were visitors, and thus guests, in Morocco. By discussing our camp-mate as a sexual object, the men lurking outside our camp were not talking about her cultural value as a bride. They were indulging their own prurient interests!
The majority of our group was highly perturbed by the news our drivers had brought to our attention. A threat to our personal safety was, indeed, NO laughing matter!
We were emancipated, free-thinking Western women who did not relish being thought of as mere chattels. Regardless of her age, religion, culture or country, an undervalued woman is an endangered woman!
Any failure to pull together as a united team could put all of us women in danger. No wonder young Azim had so vehemently warned us that we would need bodyguards! The information that young man gave us was already proving priceless!
Yet two of our own group's men had dismissed, as utter nonsense, the very idea that an unescorted Western woman might encounter real danger in Fes. To prove their point, they played at guessing the ‘camel values' of all the ladies on our bus. But their insensitive game was soon was silenced by everyone else's unamused glares!
In concert with our drivers, we then devised a plan to keep everyone safe while we were in Fes. Anton glued himself to my elbow and valiantly protected me for the rest of the trip - except for one notable incident that occurred on that very day.
Everyone wanted to see the sights, but nobody could bear to step back inside the Love Bus again even for an “official tour”. Not yet. Not today. Today, our legs needed to walk!
Azim arrived just as we were preparing to leave the campsite for the day. We could leave our tents erected, as we would return to this campsite that night, and for the following two nights. We just needed to take our jewellery and passports with us, and trust that our drivers, vehicle, food, clothing and tents would still be there upon our return.
I was
especially interested in traversing the old town, or Medina, that lies within
the ancient city walls. The Medina is the soul of Fes! It houses every aspect of business life
in the souks, or open air marketplaces, from industrial through manufacturing to
merchandising.
I was more than ready to experience life in this happening place!
photo by kind courtesy of carfree.com
A cobbled maze of twisting alleys, hidden paths and blind turns, this Fes Medina is the largest car-free market in the world,
photo by kind courtesy of
en.wikipedia.org
Donkeys, are the "Mack Trucks" of the Medina, carrying everything from merchandise, to messages, produce and water, into and out of the old town, as well between locations within it.
Everything, even garbage, is transported on the backs of donkeys. And they have the right of way in this ancient place. So, you need to quickly step aside for them, or you are quite likely to be stepped ON.
Everything, even garbage, is transported on the backs of donkeys. And they have the right of way in this ancient place. So, you need to quickly step aside for them, or you are quite likely to be stepped ON.
The Blue Gate is the Medina's south entrance.
All the world's marketplaces should be blessed
by such a magnificent welcome!
by such a magnificent welcome!
Blue Gate photo by kind courtesy of
mhostnetwork.com
mint tea by kind courtesy of http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:the menthe.jpg 
Azim led our group through the famed Gate into Fas el Bali, Medina in Fes, pausing so that we could pose for photographs.photo by kind courtesy of lemarrakechstore.com
First, he told us where to taste the "absolute best mint tea"!
Then our guide showed us where they made and sold brass trays and tables, colourful textiles, and woven rugs, ceramics, and leather goods. And lastly, he revealed the hidden staircase that led to the best view of Fes' famed Tannery".
Our two drivers had chosen to remain in camp that day. They had asked each of us to return at lunchtime, so that they would know right away if anyone - man or woman - was missing or in trouble.
Since we were in a very foreign land, returning for lunch seemed like a sensible security measure, so we all agreed to it. Being together in the middle of the day would also allow us to share new information with the others and to regroup into different combinations of companions, if we so wished.
- Fes -
a Brief History
a Brief History
(press blue links for more info)
The Holy City of Fes, a jewel of Spanish-Arabic civilization, is an outstanding and well-preserved example of an ancient capital of the Almoravids and the Almohads in the North African context, despite the destruction of the city and the transfer of the capital to Rabat.
In its old, densely packed monuments:
- madrasas - any type of educational institution
- fondouks - a traditional inn where traders could find rooms for themselves, stables for their animals and storage for their goods,
- palaces, residences, mosques and fountains
The Medina of Fes is the memory of the capital founded in year 192 of the Hegira (808) by Idriss II.
The ancient city, home to the oldest university in the world, is composed of two distinct centres
- One is the quarter of the Andalous, a population that fled from the Umayyad masters of Cordoba and who came to settle definitively on the right bank of the Fez.
- The other is the quarter of the Quarawiyyia, a people emigrated from Kairouan in the 11th century who chose the left bank of the river to develop their activities
Despite the destruction of a considerable part of the city by the Almoravids, the dynasty that took power in the 11th century, the two quarters grouped around two major monuments, both of which have preserved their identities intact in the old city:
- the Jama el Andalous (the Mosque of the Andalusians)
In the 13th century, after the Merinid conquest, when the city found itself constrained within its walls, a new city, Fez el Jedid, was founded directly to the west, in ah 674 by the sultan Abou Youssouf. It replaced Marrakesh as the capital of the kingdom.
In the 14th century a Jewish quarter, the Mellah, was joined to the newly founded city. The urban fabric and the principal monuments in the Medina date from this period. Since then, the twin cities have led a symbiotic existence without losing their own character.
Fes is at once an astonishing city-museum and one of the largest Islamic metropolises in which the various demographic strata have determined the greatest variety of architectural forms and urban landscapes
Having been deserted since 1912 to the advantage of the modern city, the political capital of Morocco was transferred to Rabat, but Fez has retained its status as the country's cultural and spiritual centre.
Above information is
taken from
http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/170
Anton was very solicitous of my needs that morning, staying close and playfully teasing me, when he thought nobody was watching.
In hindsight, our flirting publicly, in a Muslim country, very likely sent quite a disturbing message to some of the locals. But that thought simply did not occur to either of us, at the time.
The air temperature increased with
each passing hour, hitting the mid-eighties Fahrenheit by noon, when we
returned for a delicious Moroccan lunch, that our drivers had procured for all of us.
Our drivers surprised us by announcing that they had secured a group reservation for supper in a nearby authentic Moroccan restaurant for that very evening.
Our drivers surprised us by announcing that they had secured a group reservation for supper in a nearby authentic Moroccan restaurant for that very evening.
photo by kind courtesy of motodreamers.com
After lunch, our nurses elected to remain at camp to sunbathe and relax by the campsite pool, saying that they would be ready to join us later for our evening out.
Not surprisingly, most of the men also elected to sunbathe - or at least watch the nurses doing so.
I did warn them that even the strongest sunscreen would not protect their pale English rose
complexions against the strong Moroccan sun. But they merely scoffed at my caution.
In the early seventies, sunshine was considered beneficial. And the comfort of sunshine on bare skin proved just too tempting to resist, especially after a long, cold English winter.
In the early seventies, sunshine was considered beneficial. And the comfort of sunshine on bare skin proved just too tempting to resist, especially after a long, cold English winter.
With everyone poolside, Anton and I
were the only ones to return to
the
Medina that afternoon.
Unlike Tangier, the Fes Medina did not completely shut down for a
4-hour siesta after lunch. There were as just as many people walking in the sweltering afternoon heat as there had been that morning.
Our
plan for Day 1 was to photograph and experience life in the Medina, and do our shopping the following day. We wanted to walk and record as much as possible, within the
Medina, but not to buy anything that we had to carry around with us.
We had already spent
the morning taking photos inside the Medina. So, that afternoon, we intended to eat, drink, watch artisans at work and just have fun
in Fes.
But
Fate had very different
plans for me that day
In Morocco, as in Spain, I had been unprepared, to see so many people who looked so much like me. With their long and varied political histories, the people of both these great nations combined the physical traits and acumen of many far flung cultures and nations - as did my ancestors.
Like Moroccans and the people of Andalusia, I had thick shiny blue-black hair, but my caramel skin freckled in sunshine. During the 50s and 60s, when I was a child in England, my dark complexion and hair had always made me stand out in a
crowd.
Christobelle at 24 in 1973
After more than two decades in England, I was still treated as 'a foreigner'. So it felt odd to look Moroccan, yet know that I was an outsider.
In my new cotton djellaba, I was too busy enjoying "passing" as a local to consider any unintended ramifications.
The wealth of knowledge I had gleaned about the British male, had not prepared me for my first visit to the Middle East. Here I was dangerously ignorant about a man's habits or way of thinking.
Even with its stunning Moorish architecture, Spain's religion and customs - like Britain's - were recognizably Christian and thus spoke to us at a very basic level.
Morocco, on the other hand, was a solidly Muslim country, whose unfamiliar sights, sounds, aromas, religion and culture had piqued our curiosity and invited our unfettered exploration.
Anton and I were enjoying such an amazing time here, that we, inadvisedly, relaxed our guard, allowing ourselves to be comfortable and sfeel afe in the Medina - perhaps even a little bit invincible.
by kind courtesy of http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120512103445/jimmyneutron/images/b/bb/Danger.png
In my new cotton djellaba, I was too busy enjoying "passing" as a local to consider any unintended ramifications.
The wealth of knowledge I had gleaned about the British male, had not prepared me for my first visit to the Middle East. Here I was dangerously ignorant about a man's habits or way of thinking.
Nothing in Fes felt familiar!
Anton and I were
truly strangers in a strange land.
Even with its stunning Moorish architecture, Spain's religion and customs - like Britain's - were recognizably Christian and thus spoke to us at a very basic level.
Morocco, on the other hand, was a solidly Muslim country, whose unfamiliar sights, sounds, aromas, religion and culture had piqued our curiosity and invited our unfettered exploration.
Anton and I were enjoying such an amazing time here, that we, inadvisedly, relaxed our guard, allowing ourselves to be comfortable and sfeel afe in the Medina - perhaps even a little bit invincible.
by kind courtesy of http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20120512103445/jimmyneutron/images/b/bb/Danger.png
Those feelings of invincibility threatened to blind us both to reality; so Fate was ready to challenge our illusions.
That afternoon, assuming Anton
had remained physically nearby - as he had been all morning - I had, confidently, walked on ahead, searching for the entrance to those elusive Tannery steps.
Anton, however, had stopped, and was focussing his
camera upon some leather goods for sale in the souk. By relaxing his guard without warning, he was NOT, at that precise moment, being my observant bodyguard.
Without thinking to check on Anton's exact whereabouts, I had found and entered the
enclosed Tannery staircase that Azim had earlier shown us.
tannery photo by kind courtesy of tntmagazine.com
The extremely narrow staircase allowed only
one person to pass, at a time. At the top, it opened out to a small, flat, viewing platform that had no
restraining parapet or railing, since it doubled as a roof for drying dyed skins.
I stood there alone, mesmerized. Spread out below me was a large courtyard containing a few dozen enormous vats where goat, sheep and cowhides are tanned in the Tannery
tannery photo by kind courtesy of tntmagazine.com
The extremely narrow staircase allowed only
one person to pass, at a time. At the top, it opened out to a small, flat, viewing platform that had no
restraining parapet or railing, since it doubled as a roof for drying dyed skins.I stood there alone, mesmerized. Spread out below me was a large courtyard containing a few dozen enormous vats where goat, sheep and cowhides are tanned in the Tannery
The putrid fumes rising from those vats made my eyes water and it took me a few seconds to realize that three men had stealthily followed me up that staircase. But they definitely were not tourists intent on seeing the tannery!
Without a word, they surrounded me and one man grabbed me, from behind, while his two companions, left me in no doubt as to their agenda. And it was not going to be to my liking!
I glanced at the top of the staircase,
hoping that Anton would be there
hoping that Anton would be there
but he was nowhere to be seen.
I WAS ALONE!
photo by
kind courtesy of websters-online-dictionary.org
Outraged at being
cornered by three, larger, males, I immediately turned into a ferocious, spitting, snarling she-cat, scratching and screaming toDetermined to get myself out of this mess, I used every defensive technique in my arsenal, while swearing that I would shove them all into those stinking vats below, if they didn't
GET THE **** OUT OF MY WAY!
Momentarily stunned by such vehement and decidedly unfeminine Anglo-Saxon invective, my assailants suddenly stepped back a pace, in unison.
Adrenaline pumping, I took my chance and dashed across that platform, flying down its torturous staircase and bursting into the street below - where I literally tumbled into Anton.
Adrenaline pumping, I took my chance and dashed across that platform, flying down its torturous staircase and bursting into the street below - where I literally tumbled into Anton.
have been working to so quickly
re-connect us in that crowded Medina!
He had been searching for me. But he had no inkling that I had been trapped, much
less assaulted by three men, until he saw the emotional wreck I had become.
I was so relieved to see him, that I burst into tears on the spot, shaking uncontrollably as I related the events that had just transpired.
I was so relieved to see him, that I burst into tears on the spot, shaking uncontrollably as I related the events that had just transpired.
Anton was furious, ready to confront my assailants by himself, or call the police for help. In England, we might have done so, for we would have known exactly how to summon the authorities.
But in Fes, had we even known where to find a policeman, I was not up to being interrogated - in French, or any language! So I begged my bodyguard to take me back to the campground where I could again feel safe.
Anton quickly ushered me out of the Medina, and summoned a taxi that took us both back to the relative safety of our campsite.
Once through our guarded gate, my shock abated, and the full extent of my ordeal began to hit home. Matters might so easily have turned from bad to worse for me, had those men brandished weapons; or had Anton not found me at the bottom of those stairs.
My attack at the
tannery was
a definite wake up call!
a definite wake up call!
It had been
so deftly accomplished that I had not realized the danger I was in until those men
had blocked off my only escape route. What an ordeal!
Anton was mortified that he'd been so reckless with my safety. He blamed himself for becoming distracted. But, I knew that part of the responsibility was mine too.
Anton was mortified that he'd been so reckless with my safety. He blamed himself for becoming distracted. But, I knew that part of the responsibility was mine too.
It is imperative to be aware of your surroundings
when sightseeing and enjoying another culture
In my eagerness to experience all that was new and exciting, I had become isolated from my bodyguard and had not even checked that
he had remained within earshot.
I would never make
that mistake again!
by kind courtesy of http://www.danilogaleazzi.it/Photoclub%20Alpha%20%C2%BB%20Minolta%20History%20-%20Seven%20Decades.htm
It wasn't till that evening that I
realized those thugs had also 'relieved' me of my Instamatic camera. Happily my passport had stayed secure.
Perhaps they had simply not had
sufficient time to steal it before my inner lioness had roared to
life. Whatever their reasons, I was happy to put some distance between me and
those menacing hands.
GRRRR!!
Anton could not be separated from me that afternoon. He even stood guard outside my shower stall murmuring soothing words while I sobbed and tried, in vain, to wash away the memory of those groping, grasping hands.
Afterwards, he very sweetly offered to massage the tension out of my shoulders and neck. But I was too bruised and aching to be touched by anyone else's hands, even those of a kind friend. Somehow, he had understood my need to pull away from him, and could not have been more considerate that day!!
Afterwards, he very sweetly offered to massage the tension out of my shoulders and neck. But I was too bruised and aching to be touched by anyone else's hands, even those of a kind friend. Somehow, he had understood my need to pull away from him, and could not have been more considerate that day!!
Fate had shown me that I needed to become more circumspect while retaining my joyful inner spirit. But, in order to re-connect with my sense of freedom, I would eventually have to face my fear by processing the anguish of being assaulted.
Intellectually, I knew that I would lose my resolve if this attack made me forever fearful. And relinquishing my courage was something I simply refused to do! I was a lioness, after all!
Before today, I had been an outgoing, trusting, if impulsively adventurous, young woman who lived life at full throttle. And I was determined that I would, again, live passionately on my own terms.
More than once, meditation had helped me to recover from times of extreme stress. So I sought out a quiet spot, in the shade of a palm tree, and asked my angels to help me make sense of it all.
Using breath control I coordinated my Spirit, Mind and Body, re-connecting the parts of me that had shrunk or scattered in terror during the assault.
In the long, restorative meditation that followed I slowly regained the strength and humility to give thanks for everything I had experienced that day.
I could not yet forgive their behavior nor bless the three men who had taught me such a valuable lesson. But, in time, I would, for I knew the majority of Moroccans were friendly, warm and welcoming souls - and that realization was enough to begin releasing the fear of remaining in Fes for 3 more days.
My meditative visions soared beyond the mundane, as I communicated with my angel guides, intuitively understanding the wisdom they so lovingly conveyed.
My angels reassured me that, despite my current level of shock, I would suffer no lasting consequences from my ordeal. On the contrary, this difficult experience was to teach me a great deal about my strengths as well as my weaknesses.
But some life lessons take a long time to learn, and it was to be many years before I fully assimilated this particular one.
He didn't have to look after me since I was perfectly safe in that guarded campsite. But I had been assaulted, and he was being such a solicitous friend that by sunset, I felt confident enough, to be escorted, by four of our guys, to dinner in an authentic Moroccan restaurant.
The nurses were not able to join us as most of
them were far too nauseous to eat. They had learned the hard way about the dangers of Moroccan sunshine, as all of them were sunburned and had the bad headaches associated with sunstroke.
They needed quiet rest, darkness and water. So our drivers and the New Zealand guys stayed in camp, with them, to take care of their medical needs and make sure they were properly re-hydrated.
They needed quiet rest, darkness and water. So our drivers and the New Zealand guys stayed in camp, with them, to take care of their medical needs and make sure they were properly re-hydrated.
Anton had quietly informed the drivers, and they had told the rest of our group, of my 'tannery attack' that day. As a result, even the surliest of the men treated me with the
utmost respect at dinner. And nobody, ever again, joked about "camel values" - at least not in my presence!
Young Azim led us to the restaurant and also joined us for dinner
that night. And despite my being easily startled whenever anyone approached me from behind, we all enjoyed a very pleasant evening.
photo by kind courtesy of http://s3.grouponcdn.com/images/site_images/0188/1252/Fez-Authentic-Moroccan-Cuisine_grid_6.jpg
photo by kind courtesy of http://s3.grouponcdn.com/images/site_images/0188/1252/Fez-Authentic-Moroccan-Cuisine_grid_6.jpg
The huge restaurant was filled with low, circular tables, around which were scattered legless
bucket chairs. We all sat together at one large table, eager to experience some
mouth-watering 'authentic' Moroccan cuisine.
Azim asked if we would permit him order food for us; and upon receiving unanimous consent, disappeared into the kitchen to visit with the chef, who was yet another of his relatives.
photo by kind courtesy of http://www.groupon.com/deals/imperial-fez-march
Azim asked if we would permit him order food for us; and upon receiving unanimous consent, disappeared into the kitchen to visit with the chef, who was yet another of his relatives.
photo by kind courtesy of http://www.groupon.com/deals/imperial-fez-march
Several dishes magically arrived at our table, and I tasted a little from each one. But I just couldn't bring myself to eat a sheep's eye - something that was once alive and was still - literally - staring back at me!
Our magnificent repast ended with the requisite belches of appreciation from my companions. We then returned to the campsite to check on our ailing companions.
Thanks to the ministrations of the four worthy gentlemen who had nursed them through a difficult evening, all four nurses were fragile but recovering from their dehydration and sunburns.
Our first full day in Fes had taught us all painful lessons about being mindful of our personal safety under the African sun. And it was a particularly wretched day for us women!
Before sleeping, as per usual, I took stock of what I had learned this day, and tried to write about it in my journal. Today had been a day of contradictions - of
warm welcomes and unarmed combat; of fabulous food and a fiendish assault that left a foul taste in my mouth.
With some relief, I realized that the attack was too recent an event for me to mull over too deeply that night. It would take time for the last shreds of my fear to dissipate.
photo by kind courtesy of
http://wickedestwomenofcinema.tumblr.com
So, in the style of Scarlett
O'Hara from Gone With the Wind, I decided
that "I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll
think about it tomorrow."
Emotionally spent, I took my final shower for that day, bid everyone good night, and retired for the night.
My wonderful bodyguard stayed close by, reading while I fell asleep alone in our tent. Then he slid into his own sleeping bag, right next to mine.
My wonderful bodyguard stayed close by, reading while I fell asleep alone in our tent. Then he slid into his own sleeping bag, right next to mine.
The next morning, Anton and I
would go treasure hunting in Fes!
*
*
*
*
Coming Soon!
Section 3 - Chapter
9
Fes (Days 2 and 3)
Rugs, Romance, and
the Royal treatment in
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