Ali Baba in Morocco

Try as I might I cannot find one single theme that can adequately tie together these past two weeks in Morocco. Morocco is such a colorful, vibrant country that trying to find only one common thread is rather difficult. Instead, I will use pictures to tell some of the stories from our trip. And I promise that there is a playful reason for the title.

1. Aourir

When we were going through passport control in Morocco, we were asked to provide our address. It was difficult for us to figure out the address of the Airbnb we had booked and we had to write the closest approximation we could come up with since we weren’t even sure what city it was in. Turns out this is because it is in between two cities, Aourir and Tamraght. We learned that Auorir is also known as Banana Village because of the many banana trees that grow around it. The markets were full of shops that seemed to only sell bananas.

 

The small coastal cities may not be of any interest to most visitors but it was teeming with tourists, nevertheless. This is because Aourir, Tamraght and nearby Taghazout are all very well known for surfers. Every morning we would find vans parked along the beach, sometimes surrounded by people getting in or out of wetsuits. 

It was on this beach that I had surf lessons. Not in the water, but on the shore. The girlfriend of the other couple we went with held a treasure trove of technical knowledge about surfing and she was kind enough to try teaching me so that I could at least identify a surfable wave from an unsurfable one. I never actually made it into the water but I am perfectly happy with that.

2. Agadir

The vegetable section of the Souk

Agadir was clearly the tourist destination of the area. It was full of restaurants like McDonalds and KFC. The posh area of the city had stores such as Zara and Stradivarius. We spent most of our time walking along the Marina, a new part of the city located near the beach. On another day, we went to the Souk, a labyrinth of small alleyways with vendors selling everything from spices to shoes. A clever spice seller trapped us by telling us what each of his spices was, what it was good for and giving us tea. He sold us a bag of spices that “could make a bad cook into a good cook.”

The Kasbah, or ramparts, above Agadir

3. Taroudant and Tiout

We found these two cities quite by accident. In Agadir we spent a few hours touring the Berber museum. The museum was rather small and except for some jewelry, here didn’t seem to be much for us there, especially since the labels were all in Arabic and French (though my boyfriend did find a painting he would have almost bought if it weren’t already reserved).

The ramparts around Tiout

We were about to make a halfhearted circle through the basement and then head out when the guy running the museum came down and asked us if we wanted a tour. He was able to point out all of the interesting things about each piece of jewelry we saw. He told us about how the Berber clans (the name given to the original inhabitants of Morocco before the Romans invaded the country) each had their own distinct identity (such as the Star of David for the Jewish Berbers), which they showed through their jewelry. There was the khamsa, or the five-fingered hand that protected against the evil eye. We learned about all of the symbols of fertility and the symbolism of the border in a carpet design. And at the end he told us about two cities, Taroudant and Tiout, where we could see some Berber architecture.

Our frustration at not finding the Souss-Massa National Park

Taroudant, it turns out, is known at the Marrakech of the east without the aggressiveness of shopkeepers. They were actually quite aggressive in Taroudant as well, with a guy following us with his bike constantly telling us he just wanted to improve his English and not money and telling us which way to go. We only stayed long enough to eat what was one of the best meals we had eaten so far and then went to Tiout.

Tiout was even smaller, just a collection of seven villages next to each other. A guy followed our car on his bike, even climbing up a large hill. When he reached us at the top, he started telling us about the agriculture of the villages, which were entirely Berber and how donkeys were the Berber taxis. We were so enamored and amused at the man’s tenacity and ingenuity in following us and with his enthusiasm in telling us about the villages in his combination of French and English that we paid him quite handsomely for his trouble.

4. Essaouira

Everyone we ran into told us that Essauoira was not to be missed so we decided to take a day trip there. On the way we stopped at a small town named Imsouane which our surfer boys had learned was a go to destination for waves. It turned out that many people had heard the same thing as the water was crowded with surfers of all abilities. We even had two Santa sightings, one surfing in the water and another skinny Santa on the beach selling a large plate of doughnuts.

We reached Essauoira in the afternoon. It was pleasant to walk around the narrow streets of Essaouira’s medina and look at all of the art pieces out on display, though the town felt more like it was designed for tourists than a genuine representation of how people in the country live. We didn’t do a terrible lot of shopping there since it looked like most of it was mass produced and many things were the same from one stall to another. The streets were impressive, with hanging carpets and colorful doors. We were also offered hashish on a few occasions which we had to forcefully decline before the dealers would leave us alone.

5. Marrakech

Marrakech was the biggest tourist trap of all. We had been warned of the young men who would come and try to help you find your way through the maze of the medina but then charge you exorbitant prices for their services so we were careful to not ask them for directions. Some of these men even deliberately told us the wrong way, in an effort to mislead us and force us to ask them for help. Other people asked for money in less malicious ways. Some were selling goods, such as sunglasses and hats. Others were selling street food, which became our favorite, especially when we bought them from a small, middle-aged woman who was delighted when we came to her shop a second time. Other traps we avoided entirely, such the snake charmers and monkey tamers in the main square.

While walking in the medina we encountered many people who would call out to us. Some were friendly, some had the appearance of being so. Many of these people would say “Ali Baba! Ali Baba!”, though it was not clear if they were talking to my boyfriend or referring to themselves. We had to dig around on the internet to figure out that they would call out thus to any bearded man, though to what end remains a mystery. These men seemed friendly but some were not. These were the men who tried to take us to the leather market, which we fortunately knew was known to harbor many pick pockets and thieves.

Even though we knew that many people in both Marrakech and in the other cities were trying to get as much money out of us as possible, it was worth the experiences. If I had spoken the language, I was told by many locals, I could have passed for a Moroccan. So maybe next time I will go after learning a bit of Arabic or French and try to see how Morocco is for a local instead of a tourist.