A Little Blonde Fish in a Sea of Humans

Then you blow your nose and your snot is black its a good sign the air quality is sub-par. After nearly dying trying to run around the walls of the Medina, I found myself coughing violently between hits of my inhaler in a near panic attack just trying to breathe. All I can think about is that is it time to go. 

I have one last task for my time in Marrakech. This is to see the city by night because apparently it “comes alive”. Well, that is one way of putting it. The entire Medina was worse than the London Underground during rush hour, ON the train. There I was smashed between people moving at a crawl while the man next to me weirdly rubbed his hand on my thigh. Picture my impressed face. Desperate to escape the man I found myself behind a woman with someone actually pressed up against my back. I didn’t even want to know, so I didn’t look to see if it was a man or woman, I desperately searched the sea of humans for any gap of space. To my dismay there wasn’t one to be found. It took nearly 30 minutes to go the 500 metres to the square (thanks to google maps I new how much further I would have to just be a little blonde fish in a sea of fabric and men. 

The square was something else. During the day there is a whole area of red ground with power spots built into the ground but nothing other then some ladies doing henna, by night there are restaurants. Set up sometime in the early evening transforming the square into a smoke filled yet enchanting scene. 

With piles of fresh produce and seafood near the chef, a man greets you first in French, then English then Spanish, his job is to convince you to eat at his stand. “Special deal just for you my beautiful blonde friend because I like you very much” “You look too skinny you need to eat here ma’am, always sporting you are, slow down have some food” “Please ma’am why do you not want eat here” - the last one was a pizza place so I responded with, because I’m deathly allergic to gluten, but thank you for the offer sir. Now normally I’m such a foodie I would be all over that, but the lack of running water, general hygiene & alcohol (which I like to think would kill the bad bugs in my tummy) screamed no at me. I see tourists “washing” their hands in these buckets of stagnant water, there is no soap, then proceeding to eat with their hands. Just the thought of it made my stomach roll. There is no way my precious Canadian stomach would survive that. The bathroom facilities at my hostel were not nice enough to chance being sick. If I had a private bathroom I may have considered it.

After two hours in the Medina by night my screaming headache from the pollution forced me to return to my hostel, it’s not like one is going to tie one on drinking mint tea… 

The Red City

Shifting my gaze between my google maps and the window of the bus I couldn’t help but notice how pretty all the lights looked. I’m not sure what I was expecting. After a quick chat with my bus driver I determined which stop would be the best for me and when we arrived I disembarked and started following the little blue dots. The overwhelming stench of urine and the absolute filth of the road I turned on made me question the blue dots as I found myself on a footpath behind a series of mandarin orange venders, whom it appears merely toss the rinds, bad fruit and rubbish onto this path. There are so many motorcycles polluting the air, plus the smell of rotten fruit, mixed with urine and the fact the ground was wet made me want to vomit. It was a humid twenty degrees, and I found myself questioning if the fruit vendors could possibly be used to that stench. I decided to get off the footpath and walk on the road as soon as I found a gap in the vendor stands. 

This made for its own adventure with so many motorcycles, mopeds, bicycles and cars driving hap-hazardously in both directions on what really seems to be a one way street. I managed to escape the cars and enter the walls of the Medina where to my surprise motorcycles and mopeds still drive like madmen through. I get the feeling humans do not have the right of way in this country. I may be seriously injured at some point in a collision with a moped. 

Not sure I was ready to brave the streets of Marrakech by night I tucked myself into bed with a movie. 

I sit here now late afternoon two days into my adventure of the red city. I managed to find the nice part of town where I reckon most of the tourists with money stay, there is a Chilli’s ffs. However, we very much enjoyed wandering the olive tree lined streets. There were these random derelict buildings that seemed to be hollowed out in the mix and this one that had the most stunning tile mosaics inside. I found myself trying to get a better view of them through the over grown garden and over the high fence, never quite getting to see enough. 

Nearly back at my hostel with my dinner to enjoy roof top, I hear the unmistakeable cries of a terrified dog. Not an angry or aggressive sound, a truly scared sound. I turn around and find a man trying to get a dog out from under a car with a stick. I had to stop and explain to these people that this dog was terrified, possibly hurt. Definitely scared. I squatted down near where she was hiding between the front grill and the tire, I then proceeded to take out some chorizo that I had bought for dinner. This brought another very small pup over who stole it right out from under her feet. So I pulled out another piece and slowly coaxed her out of her hiding spot. She was very gently taking pieces right out of my hand and letting me pet her, the pup was all over all the things with her dirty little paws and heaps of kisses. After the two of them ate my entire package of chorizo and my cheese I found myself trying to call all the local animal shelters. It is Saturday and I am out of luck. It killed me to leave them but they also wouldn’t follow me. This is when for the first time since I squatted near the car my attention broke from them, I realized over fifty men were staring at me. What a sight I must have been showing love and affection for these two pups. In a tank top with my long blonde hair. I can only hope that maybe they will show them the same kindness. My bag is now well stocked with cat & dog food as well as some treats. Stray dogs are rare in this city, cats seem to rule the streets. Both break my heart it seems, particularly the tiny little sick looking kittens. And I don't even like cats...