Medina + Food Tour!

We took another taxi to the main market inside the Medina, and wandered a bit before our food tour was to start. The tour was to take us through the market giving us insight about Moroccan food, spices and an introduction to navigating the narrow alleyways and stalls.

As we walked through the main market area, we saw all kinds of open air stalls selling everything from fresh juices to henna tattoos and souvenirs.  There were a couple things that struck me about this market though - there were several different animals on display, and not in humane ways.  There were snake charmers who kept pythons and cobras under a short circular wooden bowl and when tourists came by, they’d take off the bowl and expose the snake.  Then the flute like instrument was played and the snakes raised their heads and did some small movements to the music. Interesting to watch, until the snake charmer hit the snakes with the bowl to either reprimand or encourage the snake to do something.  I tried to take a video and ended up with just snakes curled up and piled upon themselves, so stopped doing so.  Immediately after I put the camera down, I was approached and it was demanded that I give the man money for the video.  I told him no, and showed him that the snakes weren’t doing anything in the video, and he basically told me he didn’t need people like me with my ugly face visiting there.  I deleted the video as per his demand, and we moved on.  There was a baboon on a leash with a diaper on, donkeys pulling cars of all types of goods, horse carriages touring around - it was a chaotic feel and I didn’t really like it.  I’m used to the hustle and bustle of a good market having spent time in Chinese markets, Turkish markets and even some crazy Polish markets, but this was bizarre and uncomfortable. 

Standing outside Cafe France in the square, we met our tourguide Abdul. I was looking at my phone to double check where we were to meet him as he approached us and said “I am here.  I’m your tourguide, Abdul.”  How he knew it was us I’ll never know. I was looking for the tell tale signs of tourists gathering to start the tour - massive cameras, backpacks, white tennis shoes, but it was just the two of us on the tour. 

Abdul is the jolliest man who is so proud of his country.  He grew up in the South of Morocco, and moved to Marrakech for better schools for his kids.  He spent 6 years in charge of Peace Corps volunteers in Morocco and loves every chance he gets to meet new people. 

Our tour started at a small shop where we had soup, pancakes (crepes) and learned about the country’s history and development.  I’m a bit embarassed to have learned that the French only had a presence in Morocco for 45 years.  Based on the influence France has had on Morocco I’d have thought that the French would have ruled here for far longer.  There was quite a bit of history that went with the food part of the tour, it was really an awesome experience.  Our second stop on the winding streets of the Medina was at a spice shop where Mostafa let us small all of the spices he had.  He made up some sort of little pouch with some crystal mint and salt in it and then shoved it up our noses to show how it can clear your sinuses.  He had spices for digestion, spices that acted as viagara, regular cooking spices and all sorts of body products.  Argan oil is big in this part of the world, so there were lotions, lipsticks, soaps, natural perfumes, any kind of body product you could think of with Argan oil in it. He told us the products he was letting us try would get us a husband, so Sam and I stocked up ;)

Tomato/lentil soup and paprika pancake

I’m a bit embarassed to have learned that the French only had a presence in Morocco for 45 years. Based on the influence France has had on Morocco I’d have thought that the French would have ruled here for far longer.  There was quite a bit of history that went with the food part of the tour, it was really an awesome experience.  

Our second stop on the winding streets of the Medina was at a spice shop where Mostafa let us small all of the spices he had.  He made up some sort of little pouch with some crystal mint and salt in it and then shoved it up our noses to show how it can clear your sinuses.  He had spices for digestion, spices that acted as viagara, regular cooking spices and all sorts of body products.  Argan oil is big in this part of the world, so there were lotions, lipsticks, soaps, natural perfumes, any kind of body product you could think of with Argan oil in it. He told us the products he was letting us try would get us a husband, so Sam and I stocked up ;)

Sam, Abdul and me in Mostafa's spice shop

Spices

Spices 

Mostafa showing off his wares 

Teas and other products in Mostafa's shop

Crystal mint - so strong to the smell!

Mostafa adding up our purchases

Next stop was the community bread oven. Abdul told us it was much cheaper to have a communal oven rather than try and put one in every home.  They baked over 6,000 loaves of bread in this oven a day to sell and for families to use with meals.  While we were there, a man had three of his loaves baked and paid the guy in the hole monitoring all of the bread once they were done. We had the opportunity to sample the bread and it’s delicious.

Bread oven

I asked Abdul what kind of products make the best gifts from Marrakech and his first answer was carpets- followed by silver and Argan oil. Even though I was just trying to make conversation, he zeroed in on the carpets and next thing I knew, we were in the basement of some shop drinking mint tea and getting a history of Moroccan carpets lesson from another guy named Mostapha.  He told us about the different groups who make carpets in the areas, mostly Berbers and Jewish ladies, and about the different designs.  There is a definite skill in the carpet making, and in this case, you truly do get what you pay for.  He explained that the carpet making women don’t explain the time it took to make the carpets in hours, days or years, they describe it in the number of kids they’d had over the time they made the carpet.  Mostapha reassured us that this was the best place to buy carpets as evidenced in the fact that the Clintons had stopped there (incidentally we learned from one person that Hillary’s neice married a Berber man and the couple had homes in Marrakech and a village in the Atlas Mountains).  He has perfected the sales pitch honing in on what styles each visitor likes, cuing his help to undo carpet after carpet after carpet to show us the designs. He showed us the color influences by region, saffron and tea were used to make different colors in the carpets, and the style differences between the Jewish and Berber carpets.  We ended up leaving empty handed, but were charged wiht the task of being ambassadors for his store- SO if you’re ever in Marrakech and need a carpet, please go visit Chateau des Souks (44, Souk Semmarine Marrakech) and tell Mostapha that we said hello.

Mostafa and his carpets - all were individually laid out for us with a story and details of it's making.

Mint tea - and sugar cubes.  They do not mess around with sugar! 

We had a chance to stop at a sweets shop along the way in the market area.  This guy evidently was on BBC and some other food shows for his most famous sweets.  They were all delicious, mostly because each was dipped in honey, but who am I to complain?

The stack of sweets

After the carpets and sweets, we went through the olive market and then on to where we were going to eat lamb.

Abdul describing the olives

We saw one of the underground ovens they use to cook the lamb. They skewer the lamb on large sticks and drop it in a hole - the entire thing is cooked that way and then it’s prepared for serving.

Lamb oven

Skewer sticks

Bread (the typical type baked in the communal oven), lamb and spices

After the lamb we finally had dinner - tagine and couscous - and then a spiced tea to finish the evening.

Couscous, chicken and vegetables 

Tagine (the style of pottery it's made in) of chicken, lamb and vegetables 

Overall it was a great tour and it was super helpful having Abdul there to escort us through the chaos that is the Medina.  Two thumbs up for the food tour!

Getting to Morocco

“You get what you pay for.”  Seems fine when you’re talking Ryan Air or Wizz Air and you get a $50 ticket to somewhere.  Cue the fees for luggage, seat selection, food, looking to the left - all things to be expected when you have a cheap ticket.  But this should not have been our mantra in getting to Morocco. After all, you may not have heard of Eurowings - nor had I - but we paid over $300 each for a one way ticket. That’s not cheap, and thus the saying should not apply.

In the Uber ride to the airport, I got a text message that Eurowings “regrets to inform me…..” of a delay.  No big deal, it was 15 minutes.  However, we checked in, got to the gate and were told it was a two hour delay, and then a four hour delay, and then 4 hours and 20 minutes.  What tha?!  When we asked what our options were, we were told that we had to get to Dusseldorf (our connecting airport) and then figure it out.  Really, what if they can’t do anything for us there? Seemed a bit suspect, but what are you going to do. That’s the same information they gave everyone on the plane, including our new friends Iza and Bryan (Polish and Italian). Oh - and lest I forget, we got a 50 Zloty voucher for food at the airport to pass the time (about 10 bucks).  Nevermind that you could only use it at one place, and that place was NOT the Shark Bar which is our favorite hangout (note: the Shark bar was not there - it’s been killed and will reopen as something far worse than our beloved airport meeting point.) Also worth noting, the voucher could not be used on alcohol.

We decided to go and get lunch with Iza and Bryan and it was the best way our day could have gone after the bummer that was missing our connecting flight to Marrakech. They live in Sydney and obviously had a much further distance to be traveling than we did. They have been dating for some years. He’s a chef and she works in hospitality. He has quite a few tattoos and so I asked if he would tell us about them.  To which he rolled up his sleeve and said “these footprints are of our baby girl Zoey.  She died at three months.”  Open mouth, insert foot.  The tattoos which were visible to us were of foods and a large dicing knife - obviously culinary related stuff. That’s what I thought he’d tell us about. There must have been something warm about Sam and me that he felt comortable sharing about the other tattoos - the heart beat, a beautiful phrase about love and the footprints.

Iza and Bryan

We finished lunch with Iza and Bryan and finally boarded and made it to Dusseldorf.  Here we were met by the team that is customer service representatives for Eurowings.  We went to the Eurowings transfer desk, and spoke with an employee who could be one of the least pleasant people I’ve ever met.  She was not helpful in offering options. When I asked if there was another airline we might travel with that day in order to make it to Morocco when we expected to, she offered “go ahead and try and send Eurowings the receipt.” I asked if they would for sure reimburse us and she didn’t really offer and answer. She said we could stay the night at the airport hotel and travel to Frankfurt in the morning, and go to Marrakech from there.  Or we could take a train to Frankfurt that night and leave from there to Marrakech in the morning. After offering these less than desirable options, she just stared at us. We decided that we’d take the hotel that night, and fly to Frankfurt and then Marrakech in the morning.  We asked about food vouchers, and she told us we could eat dinner and breakfast at the hotel.  Just before we left, we asked her name in case there were any problems (after all, our entire new itinerary was hand written on a torn piece of paper) and she wouldn’t tell us.  She just said “tell them the person at the transfer desk.”  Right.  On to the hotel.  

Our "itinerary" from Pamela at the Eurowings transfer desk

When we settled at the hotel, I wanted to let people know right away about the experience we had had with Eurowings.  First thing I did was tweet about it.  I expressed my disappointment with the company and the fact that we missed a day of our holiday.  But that wasn’t all.  The super pleasant lady at the transfer desk - I’m calling her Pamela - gave us a 2 inch by 2.5 inch piece of paper that said it was the customer relations numnber for Eurowings. I was prepared to call and lodge our complaint and see if they had any other options that Pamela may not have given us.  I dialed the number and spoke with a young man briefly.  I told him our situation, and he gave me an email address to write to.  I questioned this and said, “I have this paper that says you are the customer relations for Eurowings, I’m wondering what you can do to help me in this situation.” His response was “there isn’t anything I can do for you, you have to email.” I hesitated and then responded “well if you can’t do anything for me, how is this listed a customer service number?” His answer, “I ask myself that every day.” WHAT!?!?  Stunned, I paused and looked at Sam, who could only hear my end of the conversation, and then responded, “well this is terrible customer service and does not make a good name for your company.” All I got in response was, “indeed.”  So Eurowings……… I’d avoid at all costs.

Sam grinning and bearing it in Frankfurt before our last leg...

We made it to Frankfurt the next day with no complications and then on to Marrakech.  We were definitely ready to be there.  We’d spent 30+ hours in airpors and missed an entire day of our holiday.  Not to mention, due to our late arrival, we missed a walking tour we had booked for that morning - no refunds. We also lost a nights lodging since we were staying at the luxiurous Sheraton Dusseldorf airport location.  Whatever, we made it.

Almost… We landed at 2:20 in the afternoon, and hadn’t cleared customs and gotten outside until 5:10. It could be the longest, slowest customs line I’d ever been in.

Once we got outside, cue the rat race. Luckily I had just read about taxis in Marrakech. They never use meters, so negotiate a price before you get in.  There’s a “fixed” price from the airport posted - 100 Dihrams - but that number is used loosely.  The first guy we encountered wanted 3x the price we were told to pay, then when we brought up the fixed price, they applied it per person rather than for the entire car. They surrounded you and kept saying things like “lady want a taxi, want a taxi.”  These are not unfamiliar things to travellers - however, when you say yes, negotiate your price and you start moving away from the row of taxis cued up, and the guy you’re following meets his friend and you have now three more people riding in the taxi, things get hairy. We backed away, ditched that guy and rebooted.  Returning to the taxi cue, we declared our price and kept moving until we found someone willing to give us a raide at that rate.  Only later did we find out that we had in fact still been taken even through aggressive negotiating.  Welcome to Marrakech.

We finally arrived at our Air BnB which was delightful, and our host met us to make sure all was well.  Faical was the first Moroccan we had real engagement with and he was nothing but delightful.

Meeting a master craftsman

So I've set up my jewelry station at my apartment, and it's sad, but I've done very little with it.  I crafted some things at Quench Jewelry Arts in NE Minneapolis while I was home for the holidays, and finished a couple things when I got back, but that's about it.  In fact, when I went to polish up what I had worked on, my rock tumbler (used with steel shot for shining silver jewelry) blew up on me.  I used it with a converter, but evidently mis-calculated what I actually needed to convert it to, and it billowed smoke throughout my apartment while I was in the other room finishing something up.

Realizing that it was now dead, and I probably shouldn't do any additional jewelry work until it was fixed or replaced (you know, because it's essential to getting stuff done - not...) I set out to see how I could solve the problem.  Turns out, there is a woman in southern Poland who sells the Lortone rock tumblers and was willing to order one and ship it to me.  We conversed back and forth a couple times, and I settled on just getting the base of the machine, since I already had the container you put the steel shot and jewelry in.

This is the machine - I thought I was buying the blue part with the cord.... turns out I was wrong.

She agreed to sell me the blue part, and was ready to post it to me.  BUT, she was on her way to a big gem show in Arizona, so she asked me if I just wanted to pick it up from a friend of hers.  Evidently, he is a metal smith she was staying with before her journey to Arizona.  I thought, okay, I could have her mail it to school, or I could go to this guys house and meet a Polish metalsmith.  I decided it would be cool to meet a polish metalsmith and worked with a colleague to call him and arrange a time to go to his house.  Keep in mind, I don't speak Polish, he doesn't speak English, and my colleague Joanna (Polish) is not going to be there to translate for me.  I figured it would be quick, I'd go to his house at noon, I'd give him money, he'd give me the base and all would be great!

Not the case.


First of all, I showed up to this:

Now I like dogs as much as the next guy - but this is a guard dog, and a German Shephard.  He was definitely there to alert his homeowner to my presence and as he growled and barked at me, I damn near peed myself.  Luckily, when Jacek (pronounced Yah-check) opened the door, the dog was escorted inside and I was allowed through the gate.  He greeted me and asked if I'd learned how to speak Polish since Joanna (my colleague) talked to him the day before, and chuckled.  So off we went - to his workshop upstairs in his house.  

He opened the box with the part, and lo and behold it held... just a motor (see it on the right below).  

Wait, what?  Huh.  So, if I paid the money for this part, I would have to take the other motor out, and put this one in.  Okay - I'm a "maker" I can do this, right?  Hmmmm.... he started talking to me in Polish, I started using the Google translate app, and was typing things like, will this work in my machine?  He kept saying something about America, america and I responded with "I am american" which evidently did not answer his question.  He paused and made several phone calls to try and find a friend who spoke English.  No luck.  Hmmm.  We stared at each other for a minute, I typed in something else in the Google translate app, and then I got an idea.  There is a microphone on the app as well - so I tried it.  I pushed the microphone while he was talking and I'll be damned if it didn't recognize Polish and translate it into English for me.  WHA?!?!  WINNING! 

We were both in awe of the fact that it could listen to me speak English, translate it and then speak it back in Polish to Jacek.  It was really incredible.  

If I pushed the microphone, it would detect which language was being spoken and translate into the appropriate "other" language.  It was amazing. 

Turns out, there had been a mixup.  The woman I bought the motor from thought I wanted to take the Polish motor and use it in my machine in the United States.  I'm not sure why that may be the case, but it's what he thought was happening.  I asked if the motor would work in Poland, he said of course, yes it would, but not with the plug on the machine being American.  I told him (only slightly confidently) that I could figure out how to change the cord, and it would be fine.  He looked at me, smiled and said, "moment."  He got his tools out and went to work.

I stood and watched (and took pictures) while he managed to take a cord from his workroom, disassemble it, and reassemble my cord into a functioning one that would conduct European power from the motor he had.  It seems simple, and I'm sure my parents who are very handy, could have done it - but they're not here.  And they don't speak Polish.  I was lucky enough to come across someone willing to stop what he was doing, take time to help me, and ensure me that his door is always open if I want to come back and make jewelry with him.  What an absolute treat.  I am both humbled and so appreciative that he took the time to help me, when he was definitely not bargaining for such an affair in delivering a motor to a customer.  

There are good people in the world, and there are great people.  Jacek will forever be one of the great people in my life experiences.  Enjoy the pictures!
                                                  

Note the IKEA screwdriver I brought in case I thought we might need a tool **rolls eyes

Some of Jacek's work.  Absolutely beautiful and entirely hand made.

He was working on these baby rattles when I interrupted him

my machine with the new motor waiting to be put in

scale

Jacek's tumbler.  I'm such a rookie.

His tray of work again.  Stunning.