Disease swept through my program this past week, afflicting all twelve of us. Symptoms included nausea, fever, diarrhea, and stomach cramping. Fortunately I only contracted a moderate case, and was mostly better by the time it came for us to leave for Marrakesh and Essaouira this past weekend.
My group met at the Rabat train station Friday afternoon, and with first class tickets in hand, boarded the train for Marrakesh. The difference between first-class and second-class tickets is profound. While the ticket prices barely differ by American standards, the first-class cabin proved to be much more comfortable than the second-class cabin I rode in last weekend going to Meknes. Most importantly, one has reserved seating in first-class, and the air conditioning system actually functions. Late Friday evening we arrived in Marrakesh, an important city bordering the Atlas mountain range. The city was founded by Moulay Ismail, the most famous ruler of the last great Moroccan dynasty. Marrakesh is rich in history, and as a result, draws the most tourists of any city in Morocco.
We stayed in a quaint hotel across the street from the main square in Marrakesh. After I visited the all-you-can-eat Moroccan buffet in our hotel restaurant and basked in the pleasure of air conditioning (a first for my time in Morocco), I ventured across the street to Marrakesh’s most famous attraction, its central square.
I’ve been waiting for the right opportunity to write about bartering in Morocco, and after my experiences in Marrakesh, I finally feel comfortable expounding upon this intrinsically Moroccan ritual. The price for just about any item for sale in Morocco is negotiable. A complex set of informal rules exists for bartering, and they can only be learned through experience. Foremost among them is that a foreigner should expect that the initial price offered is two to three times the amount a Moroccan would pay for the same item. Foreigners are viewed as rich, and thus taken advantage of whenever possible. When I bargain, I often counter the initial price by offering one-third of the asking price. This risks offending the merchant, but more often than not there’s little trouble because the initial price was greatly inflated to begin with. If the merchant wants to make a sale, he’ll (pardon the gender of my pronouns) come down in price until he reaches a price floor that he won’t drop below. Suddenly losing interest or visiting other shops in search of the same item is another way to attempt to lower the price. But there’s a fine line, and crossing it can result in a terribly uncomfortable situation.
Particularly at nighttime, Marrakesh’s main square is crammed with European tourists, carnival performers, and desperate merchants hawking their wares. Tourism is the lifeblood of this city, and with most residents working in this industry, competition is fierce. In the square, an American can’t walk more than twenty feet without being panhandled. Musicians expect compensation for their performances, henna artists will grab wayward tourists by the arm and drag them over to their stands, and shop owners will chase you for blocks with the hope that you will visit their store. On my last night in Marrakesh, I had three waiters from rival restaurants link arms, boxing me into a corner. They then shouted at me in broken English and shoved menus in my face. Eventually I escaped, only to have a vendor hawking wooden snakes immediately approach me. The only way to deal with these encounters is to have a healthy sense of humor.
On a whole, I found Marrakesh disappointing. While the city has many worthwhile monuments, the majority of it has been set up to empty the pockets of a tourist. I was presented with a very orientalized perspective that was neither flattering nor complimentary to my other experiences in Morocco. Marrakesh is worth a visit so that you can experience its intensity and marvel at its tackiness, but I wouldn’t recommend a prolonged stay.
Sunday morning we traveled a few hundred kilometers to Essaouira, a seaside city established by the Portuguese. Essaouira hosts a world-renowned musical festival in the early summer and is another popular tourist spot. The city is bathed in a gorgeous bluish pastel palette and possesses a substantial artist population. Brightly colored textiles and cedar woodworks litter shopkeepers’ storefronts. Merchants seemed more laid back in Essaouira, matching the affable nature of the city. Sunday afternoon my group played soccer on the nearby beach, competing in a match that pitted the program’s academic directors against each other. Later I took in the sunset wandering through Essaouira’s crowded working port.
After an all-to-brief stay in Essaouira, we returned to Rabat. The return leg took seven hours by bus, hardly a pleasant affair, but made more enjoyable by a seaside picnic lunch composed of American foods. Returning to the structure of a week of classes always wets my appetite for a weekend of adventure, and I’m already planning an excursion for a brief break in classes next week.
Below is a link to photos from this past weekend: Flickr. As a result of the recent Yemen and Islamabad bombings, the US State Department sent out a warning to Americans in North Africa, reminding them to “remain vigilant as Moroccan authorities continue to disrupt terrorist activities aimed at western interests.” I haven’t seen a noticeable change in Moroccan discourse towards Americans since the attacks, and feel very safe here. Thanks to everyone that has left comments on my blog and sent me notes. Your support means a lot to me.
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