As cool weather was descending upon Madrid, Allan and I headed south to Morocco...And entering the Medina (or old city) of Fez, was like entering a whole new world. First of all, it's more fitting to call the Medina a maze--narrow streets with 3 story high buildings line every pedestrian-only street, making it nearly impossible to understand where you are at any given moment.
Second, this maze is a crowded mix of people, restaurants and shops. About 300,000 people live in the Medina, so all day long a stream of people are flowing through the walkways, going to work or school, eating or doing some shopping. Third, the Medina is old. Not only are the buildings themselves old, but the ways of the city are also old. Arts and crafts being practiced in the city today have been here for many generations. Traditional clothing is still being worn by a large number of it's population.
And while there may be electricity and running water, most homes do not have showers, ovens, or many of the modern conveniences that we take for granted. (We, however, had those conveniences!) In many ways it was like going back in time...when life was simple, people were friendly, and families worked together. And you know what? I loved it. The Medina of Fez has been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and now I can see why. When people found out we were going to Fez, they would always say, "Where's Fez? Why Fez?" I would always look a little puzzled myself, shrug, and say, "I don't know. It's some place Allan picked." Of course, my dear sweet Allan knew just where to go...Can you believe this guy??
OUR RIAD
When we arrived at the Medina from the airport, our host, Hafid, met us at a nearby hotel and walked us to our riad, which was located in the heart of the Medina. A "riad" is a courtyard home, and ours was built in the 18th century, and was recently beautifully restored by it's owner, David, who moved to Fez 14 years ago to teach English. (He's from Ohio.) As we followed Hafid through the narrow, meandering streets to Dar Bennis (the name of our riad), I was certain that I would never in a million years ever be able to find my way out again. Even my HNSA (Human Navigation System Allan) seemed to be thrown by the winding path we took to get to our front door...
The plaster walls of a riad were thick, and all of the floors were beautifully tiled in "zellij" tiles, a unique style found only in Morocco. The kitchen was on the first floor, with the bathroom a few steps away. High-rise stairs let up to the second floor, with a courtyard in the center, and two bedrooms. Up more stairs led to another two rooms, and up more stairs let to more small rooms and the rooftop terrace. Here's a view from the 3rd floor looking down to the courtyard:
Allan took the bedroom on the third floor, and I took the bedroom on the second. (We were keeping with our "traveling buddies" story while in Muslim territory.) The third bedroom became our den where we would read, blog, or email. It was great to have so much space, and for lunch we would eat on the rooftop terrace and take in the view of the Medina, and watch what our neighbors were doing on their terraces--which was mostly laundry!
Staying in a riad sort of felt like living in a cave or a castle with just one huge skylight. Even though we had a few windows, they mostly looked out to the neighboring wall, letting in just minimal light.
Outside our riad, the adorable neighborhood children would often be laughing and playing until late at night. (Well, after 6 hours of listening to them run and scream and play drums on the building walls, they weren't so adorable...but at bedtime, all was silent.) We learned that trash day was nearly every day, and residents of the area would place their garbage bags outside their door. But teams of cats--which are plentiful in Morocco--just rip open the bags looking for delectable treats and leave the street a mess when they are finished. A garbage man eventually arrives with a wheel-mounted cart to scoop up the trash and take it somewhere else. Sanitation is a nice concept in Fez, but not really a reality...
THE STAFF
Hafid is from the Medina, has a constant smile, long black curly eyelashes, and short, black, curly hair. Like most people in Morocco, he speaks both French and Arabic, and learned English shortly after meeting David. I loved listening to his exotic French/Arabic accent.
He would bring us breakfast each morning at 9:30, which consisted of coffee and a variety of Moroccan breads.
They are typically eaten with jam, but we treated ours like pancakes and slathered them with syrup and bananas. (We also like to top them with yogurt, which you should try sometime. It's delicious!) Since maple syrup was totally unheard of in Morocco, we made our own syrup out of brown sugar. Years ago, Judith's sister Liz (or was it Hellen?) made some "Grandma Josie's Syrup" for breakfast pancakes--a family recipe that is to die for! It's like caramel heaven. (The recipe is below--you must try it on waffles. I've also included my modified version, which is vegan...) In addition to bringing us breakfast, Hafid has his own business as a "general contractor" for riad restoration, so he's a busy guy. But sometimes he would linger and chat with us about life in the Medina. A few years ago, crime was getting out of control and people were being mugged in the early morning. So police started patrolling the area, and now things are safe again.
At noon, a young guy named Khalid would stop by to do our morning dishes and freshen our bath towels if needed. Each week he changed our bedding, and every two weeks he cleaned the entire house. David (the owner) told us that it is virtually unheard of for a Moroccan man to do such "womens work", but since he cannot employ him full time as a mason (his trade), Khalid does this housekeeping in order to receive a full and consistent paycheck. Khalid spoke no English, but would smile a lot and say bonjour! when he walked in the door, and au revoir! when he left. And he does keep a house quite clean! One humorous thing about Khalid...Allan and I noticed that some of our fruit and chocolate was disappearing, and we finally concluded that it was Khalid. My goodness, I thought, he's hungry! So the next day, I took him to the fridge and showed him our large pots of couscous and cooked veggies. "You like couscous?" He seemed to understand what I said, and shrugged his shoulders with a half nod as if to say, "It's okay, not my favorite, but okay." I then pointed to the plates and bowls and said, "Help yourself to some lunch". He shrugged and nodded again, and returned to his work. Allan and I left for the day, and when we returned for a late lunch, the pots of couscous and veggies were gone. A few moments later, Khalid walked in the door with the pots empty and cleaned, and said, "Merci!" It appears that my ability to communicate in English went a bit awry, but we were happy that Khalid, and perhaps his family, were able to enjoy the food...
SHOPS
There are two main streets in the Medina, running parallel to each other the length of the city. The streets are only about 10 feet wide, and are lined with shops, selling everything from clothes and shoes to food and produce to leather goods and rugs...you can even get a camel's head if you really want one. (Allan and I did our best to avoid the meat market, where live chickens and rabbits could be purchased and killed on site...) No cars are allowed in the Medina, but one does need to make room for an occasional donkey that is carrying inventory to be delivered to a shop--so we had to constantly watch where we were stepping because sometimes the donkey left little droppings behind...
Most of the shops are run by men, or a team of men, and most just sit outside of their shop all day, casually letting the time drift on by. Some guys would stop Allan and me and ask us to take a look inside their shop, but if we declined, they would smile and ask where we were from, and welcome us to Fez. Such warmth from these people! Such sweet handshakes and eye contact! Sure, they wanted us to buy something, but without all the pressure and desperation that we often found in Egypt and India...We liked how we were almost treated like locals, and maybe that made us feel like we could relax and actually look at stuff and talk to people.
The two main streets eventually merged at the "souks", which is the main shopping area for locals and tourists alike. The souks are somewhat divided into various sections, so that all the slippers are in one area, all the clothing in another, and all the henna and incense in yet another, and so on. I would look at the row of ceramic shops that looked exactly alike, and wondered how someone decided which seller to go to. And we learned early on that bargaining was part of the process, but we were never sure if we were getting a great deal or not...another mysterious maze to figure out!
There were so many beautiful things to see in Fez that I could have "window shopped" for hours each day. But each time we would stop to look at something, be it a handmade Berber rug, hand sewn leather slippers, or hand crafted metal lamps, we would end up having lengthily conversations with the merchant about where we were from, how we liked Fez, and what else we'd be seeing in Morocco...so we never got to browse all of the shops we wanted to. I did end up buying a few little things, but if I could have, I would have purchased a truck load of things. Prices were so good, and items were so artfully beautiful that I just wanted to decorate my entire apartment with Moroccan crafts!
RESTAURANTS
We only ate out a few times in the Medina, once at a popular place called Kasbah, and a few times at what became our "local hangout", Cafe Clock. Here's what Cafe Clock looks like from the second floor, looking down. Live music is often played at Cafe Clock, thus the hanging musical instruments.
It's owned by an English guy, Mike, who decided to buy a riad (somewhat on a whim) and turned it into a cafe. He's been in Fez for 2+ years, and has created a cafe that is fun and lively. (Plus, there were several vegetarian options on the menu. Love that!) While most restaurants would say they had vegetarian food, one day we visited a nearby town, and in my "vegetarian" tajine, there was a big chuck of animal fat. When I showed it to the waiter and said, "Not vegetarian." He said back to me, "Yes! Vegetarian! No meat!" Oh well...So Allan and I cooked most of our meals at our riad, and twice had a jovial gal named Layla show us how to cook Moroccan food. (See our Thanksgiving post for more info on that.)
Owner David met with us a few times to have lunch, and he took us to some very fancy places outside of the Medina in the "Ville Nouvelle" or New Town where the rich and middle class live. Ville Nouvelle is much more modern than the Medina, and a few times I felt like I was in Scottsdale, Arizona! The swanky restaurants he took us to were mostly frequented by upper class Moroccans, foreigners, or expats, and I must say, the food was delicious. One place, Maison Blanche, knows David very well, and gave us several items for free. I am still craving their risotto....it was out of this world! And they served me one of the best veggie salads I have ever eaten. I was even sick the day we went there (probably from some "vegetarian" dish I previously ate...), but that didn't stop me from gorging on everything in sight. If you make it to Fez, you must eat there!
You must also go to the chocolate shop, Regalia, where I bought 1/2 kilo of chocolate, and it was so good, Allan even ate half of it. (He's not a chocolate lover, so that is saying something.
CULTURE
Each morning, Allan and I were woken up at 4:55 with the Muslim prayer call. The morning call went on for a about 30 minutes, and sometimes I felt like someone was shouting throughout the city, "Wake Up!!! Get out of bed!! Get to the mosque!!" Luckily I kept a pair of ear plugs by my bedside (shameful, I know) but one morning I actually got up, went up to the terrace, and listened to the prayer call. It was one of the few days that a different guy gave the call, and he sang in such a beautiful voice, I just wanted to listen to him. Now that's the way to get me out of bed!
Morocco was similar to Japan, India, and Egypt in that guys of all ages hold hands or walk arm in arm. Most everyone kisses each other on both cheeks, and this display of affection seemed to permeate the entire Medina with feelings of love. Families worked together in the Medina to make a living, and kids would be seen carrying their families bread dough to the local bakery, or picking it up to take home. (No one bakes at home. They make the dough and take it to the local bakery to bake. A baker knows who's bread is who's just by looking at it or touching the dough...) Twice we had a guide, Ahmed, take us through the Medina, and one day he took someones bread dough and asked me to carry it to the baker to illustrate how it is done. On my way there, a young boy saw me and insisted I give him the dough to carry. Ahmed explained to us that since I was "an elder", the kid was showing respect by taking the dough from me and carrying it to the baker himself--it did not matter who's dough it was. I loved the feeling of a community here, and several times a day, someone would say, "Welcome!" to me. Even with all the craziness, the undrinkable water, the trash in the streets.....no matter what my mind said about all the cultural differences I saw, I fell in love with Fez and found myself actually thinking things like, "I could live here."
More than once I was asked if I was going to buy a riad in the Medina--a partially restored one can be had for about $60,000--and believe me, I was tempted. Next to Japan, Fez will be remembered as the place where I could physically feel the love surrounding the place, and each day I felt so happy to be here. It's a sweet city, perhaps even more sweet than Grandma Josie's Syrup!
Grandma Josie's Syrup
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar (optional...for sugar lovers only!)
1 cup heavy cream
Second, this maze is a crowded mix of people, restaurants and shops. About 300,000 people live in the Medina, so all day long a stream of people are flowing through the walkways, going to work or school, eating or doing some shopping. Third, the Medina is old. Not only are the buildings themselves old, but the ways of the city are also old. Arts and crafts being practiced in the city today have been here for many generations. Traditional clothing is still being worn by a large number of it's population.And while there may be electricity and running water, most homes do not have showers, ovens, or many of the modern conveniences that we take for granted. (We, however, had those conveniences!) In many ways it was like going back in time...when life was simple, people were friendly, and families worked together. And you know what? I loved it. The Medina of Fez has been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO, and now I can see why. When people found out we were going to Fez, they would always say, "Where's Fez? Why Fez?" I would always look a little puzzled myself, shrug, and say, "I don't know. It's some place Allan picked." Of course, my dear sweet Allan knew just where to go...Can you believe this guy??OUR RIAD
When we arrived at the Medina from the airport, our host, Hafid, met us at a nearby hotel and walked us to our riad, which was located in the heart of the Medina. A "riad" is a courtyard home, and ours was built in the 18th century, and was recently beautifully restored by it's owner, David, who moved to Fez 14 years ago to teach English. (He's from Ohio.) As we followed Hafid through the narrow, meandering streets to Dar Bennis (the name of our riad), I was certain that I would never in a million years ever be able to find my way out again. Even my HNSA (Human Navigation System Allan) seemed to be thrown by the winding path we took to get to our front door...
The plaster walls of a riad were thick, and all of the floors were beautifully tiled in "zellij" tiles, a unique style found only in Morocco. The kitchen was on the first floor, with the bathroom a few steps away. High-rise stairs let up to the second floor, with a courtyard in the center, and two bedrooms. Up more stairs led to another two rooms, and up more stairs let to more small rooms and the rooftop terrace. Here's a view from the 3rd floor looking down to the courtyard: Allan took the bedroom on the third floor, and I took the bedroom on the second. (We were keeping with our "traveling buddies" story while in Muslim territory.) The third bedroom became our den where we would read, blog, or email. It was great to have so much space, and for lunch we would eat on the rooftop terrace and take in the view of the Medina, and watch what our neighbors were doing on their terraces--which was mostly laundry! Staying in a riad sort of felt like living in a cave or a castle with just one huge skylight. Even though we had a few windows, they mostly looked out to the neighboring wall, letting in just minimal light.Outside our riad, the adorable neighborhood children would often be laughing and playing until late at night. (Well, after 6 hours of listening to them run and scream and play drums on the building walls, they weren't so adorable...but at bedtime, all was silent.) We learned that trash day was nearly every day, and residents of the area would place their garbage bags outside their door. But teams of cats--which are plentiful in Morocco--just rip open the bags looking for delectable treats and leave the street a mess when they are finished. A garbage man eventually arrives with a wheel-mounted cart to scoop up the trash and take it somewhere else. Sanitation is a nice concept in Fez, but not really a reality...
THE STAFF
Hafid is from the Medina, has a constant smile, long black curly eyelashes, and short, black, curly hair. Like most people in Morocco, he speaks both French and Arabic, and learned English shortly after meeting David. I loved listening to his exotic French/Arabic accent.
He would bring us breakfast each morning at 9:30, which consisted of coffee and a variety of Moroccan breads. They are typically eaten with jam, but we treated ours like pancakes and slathered them with syrup and bananas. (We also like to top them with yogurt, which you should try sometime. It's delicious!) Since maple syrup was totally unheard of in Morocco, we made our own syrup out of brown sugar. Years ago, Judith's sister Liz (or was it Hellen?) made some "Grandma Josie's Syrup" for breakfast pancakes--a family recipe that is to die for! It's like caramel heaven. (The recipe is below--you must try it on waffles. I've also included my modified version, which is vegan...) In addition to bringing us breakfast, Hafid has his own business as a "general contractor" for riad restoration, so he's a busy guy. But sometimes he would linger and chat with us about life in the Medina. A few years ago, crime was getting out of control and people were being mugged in the early morning. So police started patrolling the area, and now things are safe again.At noon, a young guy named Khalid would stop by to do our morning dishes and freshen our bath towels if needed. Each week he changed our bedding, and every two weeks he cleaned the entire house. David (the owner) told us that it is virtually unheard of for a Moroccan man to do such "womens work", but since he cannot employ him full time as a mason (his trade), Khalid does this housekeeping in order to receive a full and consistent paycheck. Khalid spoke no English, but would smile a lot and say bonjour! when he walked in the door, and au revoir! when he left. And he does keep a house quite clean! One humorous thing about Khalid...Allan and I noticed that some of our fruit and chocolate was disappearing, and we finally concluded that it was Khalid. My goodness, I thought, he's hungry! So the next day, I took him to the fridge and showed him our large pots of couscous and cooked veggies. "You like couscous?" He seemed to understand what I said, and shrugged his shoulders with a half nod as if to say, "It's okay, not my favorite, but okay." I then pointed to the plates and bowls and said, "Help yourself to some lunch". He shrugged and nodded again, and returned to his work. Allan and I left for the day, and when we returned for a late lunch, the pots of couscous and veggies were gone. A few moments later, Khalid walked in the door with the pots empty and cleaned, and said, "Merci!" It appears that my ability to communicate in English went a bit awry, but we were happy that Khalid, and perhaps his family, were able to enjoy the food...
SHOPSThere are two main streets in the Medina, running parallel to each other the length of the city. The streets are only about 10 feet wide, and are lined with shops, selling everything from clothes and shoes to food and produce to leather goods and rugs...you can even get a camel's head if you really want one. (Allan and I did our best to avoid the meat market, where live chickens and rabbits could be purchased and killed on site...) No cars are allowed in the Medina, but one does need to make room for an occasional donkey that is carrying inventory to be delivered to a shop--so we had to constantly watch where we were stepping because sometimes the donkey left little droppings behind...
Most of the shops are run by men, or a team of men, and most just sit outside of their shop all day, casually letting the time drift on by. Some guys would stop Allan and me and ask us to take a look inside their shop, but if we declined, they would smile and ask where we were from, and welcome us to Fez. Such warmth from these people! Such sweet handshakes and eye contact! Sure, they wanted us to buy something, but without all the pressure and desperation that we often found in Egypt and India...We liked how we were almost treated like locals, and maybe that made us feel like we could relax and actually look at stuff and talk to people.The two main streets eventually merged at the "souks", which is the main shopping area for locals and tourists alike. The souks are somewhat divided into various sections, so that all the slippers are in one area, all the clothing in another, and all the henna and incense in yet another, and so on. I would look at the row of ceramic shops that looked exactly alike, and wondered how someone decided which seller to go to. And we learned early on that bargaining was part of the process, but we were never sure if we were getting a great deal or not...another mysterious maze to figure out!There were so many beautiful things to see in Fez that I could have "window shopped" for hours each day. But each time we would stop to look at something, be it a handmade Berber rug, hand sewn leather slippers, or hand crafted metal lamps, we would end up having lengthily conversations with the merchant about where we were from, how we liked Fez, and what else we'd be seeing in Morocco...so we never got to browse all of the shops we wanted to. I did end up buying a few little things, but if I could have, I would have purchased a truck load of things. Prices were so good, and items were so artfully beautiful that I just wanted to decorate my entire apartment with Moroccan crafts!RESTAURANTS
We only ate out a few times in the Medina, once at a popular place called Kasbah, and a few times at what became our "local hangout", Cafe Clock. Here's what Cafe Clock looks like from the second floor, looking down. Live music is often played at Cafe Clock, thus the hanging musical instruments.
It's owned by an English guy, Mike, who decided to buy a riad (somewhat on a whim) and turned it into a cafe. He's been in Fez for 2+ years, and has created a cafe that is fun and lively. (Plus, there were several vegetarian options on the menu. Love that!) While most restaurants would say they had vegetarian food, one day we visited a nearby town, and in my "vegetarian" tajine, there was a big chuck of animal fat. When I showed it to the waiter and said, "Not vegetarian." He said back to me, "Yes! Vegetarian! No meat!" Oh well...So Allan and I cooked most of our meals at our riad, and twice had a jovial gal named Layla show us how to cook Moroccan food. (See our Thanksgiving post for more info on that.)Owner David met with us a few times to have lunch, and he took us to some very fancy places outside of the Medina in the "Ville Nouvelle" or New Town where the rich and middle class live. Ville Nouvelle is much more modern than the Medina, and a few times I felt like I was in Scottsdale, Arizona! The swanky restaurants he took us to were mostly frequented by upper class Moroccans, foreigners, or expats, and I must say, the food was delicious. One place, Maison Blanche, knows David very well, and gave us several items for free. I am still craving their risotto....it was out of this world! And they served me one of the best veggie salads I have ever eaten. I was even sick the day we went there (probably from some "vegetarian" dish I previously ate...), but that didn't stop me from gorging on everything in sight. If you make it to Fez, you must eat there!
You must also go to the chocolate shop, Regalia, where I bought 1/2 kilo of chocolate, and it was so good, Allan even ate half of it. (He's not a chocolate lover, so that is saying something.CULTURE
Each morning, Allan and I were woken up at 4:55 with the Muslim prayer call. The morning call went on for a about 30 minutes, and sometimes I felt like someone was shouting throughout the city, "Wake Up!!! Get out of bed!! Get to the mosque!!" Luckily I kept a pair of ear plugs by my bedside (shameful, I know) but one morning I actually got up, went up to the terrace, and listened to the prayer call. It was one of the few days that a different guy gave the call, and he sang in such a beautiful voice, I just wanted to listen to him. Now that's the way to get me out of bed!
Morocco was similar to Japan, India, and Egypt in that guys of all ages hold hands or walk arm in arm. Most everyone kisses each other on both cheeks, and this display of affection seemed to permeate the entire Medina with feelings of love. Families worked together in the Medina to make a living, and kids would be seen carrying their families bread dough to the local bakery, or picking it up to take home. (No one bakes at home. They make the dough and take it to the local bakery to bake. A baker knows who's bread is who's just by looking at it or touching the dough...) Twice we had a guide, Ahmed, take us through the Medina, and one day he took someones bread dough and asked me to carry it to the baker to illustrate how it is done. On my way there, a young boy saw me and insisted I give him the dough to carry. Ahmed explained to us that since I was "an elder", the kid was showing respect by taking the dough from me and carrying it to the baker himself--it did not matter who's dough it was. I loved the feeling of a community here, and several times a day, someone would say, "Welcome!" to me. Even with all the craziness, the undrinkable water, the trash in the streets.....no matter what my mind said about all the cultural differences I saw, I fell in love with Fez and found myself actually thinking things like, "I could live here."
More than once I was asked if I was going to buy a riad in the Medina--a partially restored one can be had for about $60,000--and believe me, I was tempted. Next to Japan, Fez will be remembered as the place where I could physically feel the love surrounding the place, and each day I felt so happy to be here. It's a sweet city, perhaps even more sweet than Grandma Josie's Syrup!Grandma Josie's Syrup
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar (optional...for sugar lovers only!)
1 cup heavy cream
Mix all ingredients together and then slowly heat to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes, careful that it does not boil over. Store unused syrup in the fridge, and use within a week. Also great on ice cream!
David's Revised Syrup
1 cup soymilk
1 cup muscovado sugar (or regular brown sugar)
dash salt
1 tablespoon Earth Balance or butter (optional)
David's Revised Syrup
1 cup soymilk
1 cup muscovado sugar (or regular brown sugar)
dash salt
1 tablespoon Earth Balance or butter (optional)
Mix soymilk and sugar together and slowly heat to a boil. Reduce heat to low and simmer for 5 minutes, careful that it does not boil over. Add salt and butter, mix well. Store unused syrup in the fridge, and use within a week. Also great on fresh strawberries!
Just want to say hi. I've been inundated with my own life (mostly good) and little time to read your posts let alone reply. So I just wanted to take this moment to say hello. Sounds like an incredible journey with a quarter of it left to unfold.
ReplyDeleteI hope the holiday season finds you both in good health and very much enjoying both the pathways and each other. All is well at my end.
Being a Luditte, I have no idea what any of the "select profile" options mean, but I'm forced to select one, so I chose 'anonymous'. I hope this gets through to you.
Hugs, Mike Winer