A LITTLE ENCOUNTER IN THE DJEMAA EL FNA MARRAKECH MOROCCO
Jul 14 '01 (Updated May 09 '05)
The Bottom Line Travel with an open mind, or just be another tourist.
It is said you can buy just about anything in the Djemaa El Fna in Marrakech. The place has been a marketplace and gathering spot for centuries. Spices, medicines, chickens, and snakes are all available here as they have been for centuries. There are also some more modern items for sale too. Clothing and cheap electronic goods can also now be found here. For the most part these are bought in the duty free enclave of Cuesta up on the coast or perhaps in Spain and shipped over the mountains and desserts to here.
All day merchants and their customers gather to shop and chat. Throngs of tourists eager to part with their Dirhams Deutsche Marks or Dollars, although they may not realise it at the time, are also a part of the swirling masses. Some have permanent stalls and shops around the edge of the giant square. Others simply drop their bundles or unroll their wares wherever there is space.
All day long the buying and selling continues, not much different than from when the camel caravans came in from the south. For thousands of years this has been the centre of Marrakech. Its part shopping centre and part social gathering and all entertainment, rolled into one.
Even when the sun goes down the square does not stop. Some of the vendors go home and some shops close, others do not however. The busloads of tourists depart for the air conditioned hotels of the Ville Nouvelle and their French Cuisine dinners, but they are replaced.
Locals from all over the city gather here for the evening's entertainment. Live free shows much better than anything one could ever hope to see on TV, especially Moroccan TV. Story tellers, boxers and wrestlers, animal acts, jugglers, musician and various holy men and zealots who demonstrate their faith by pouring boiling water on themselves amongst other acts are all here.
Almost instantly or so it seems, the great square is filled with hundreds of small food stalls that set up the minute the sun dips below the horizon. The lights from a hundred cooking fires fill the night sky. The tantalising smells of an equal number of delicacies fill the air and compete with the music and other noises to try and overload your senses. This was my favourite time to be here, and I returned night after night during my brief stay in Marrakech
The place is like a giant Walmart, but with a lot more character. No shopping centre though was ever populated with characters like this though. Most of the salesmen here have what could be referred to as a very aggressive sales pitch to say the least. The minute you enter into the square or one of the surrounding streets it is presumed you're a potential customer and they're on you, relentlessly.
Most are, but not this one old guy I saw my second day there. He was sitting slightly apart from all the others. Perhaps that's what drew him to me. In the midst of all that hustle and bustle he was like an oasis of serenity. He arrived, unrolled his carpet, laid out his wares and simply waited.
Whatever it was he was selling, he was confident that buyers would find him, because he made no effort to hawk his goods. Rather he seemed content to observe the antics of those around him, with a bit of a bemused smile on his weathered face.
After watching him from across the square for a while, I decided to approach him. I wove my way through the throngs of salesmen and entertainers, equally interchangeable, and was soon squatting by his side. He barely acknowledged my presence and it became obvious he had no French, or at least chose not to admit he did. My Berber and Arabic only included a basic greeting. After I exhausted that we just there for a bit staring at each other and watching the antics of those around us.
I really didn't want to buy anything, and to be honest I couldn't really identify exactly what it was he was selling. Eventually I pantomimed that I wanted to take his picture. Most of those in the square would have quickly nodded yes, and then just as quickly quoted the price for such an undertaking.
He however debated it silently before finally slowly nodding that it would be ok. I held out some Dirhans, and motioned as to how much to take his picture, and again he seemed to debate this. Eventually he reached out his hand took the money, counted out what I guess he thought was appropriate and returned the rest to me. Our business concluded I was dismissed and vanished back into the swirling crowds.
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