I couldn't wait to hit the souks of Marrakech. I had waited all day. Our guide took us to all the important sights around the old city of Marrakech - the Bahii Palace, the tombs, the Gardens. The last stop was the infamous Jemaa El Fna square. He dropped us off and we were to find our way back to our riad through the souks.
I had the riad manager's hand drawn map in my pocket so I felt confident to dive into the craziness of the Jemaa el-Fna square and surrounding souks. It was around 5pm so the square was just starting to come alive.
We walked through the snake charmers, henna artists, and food stalls the square is so famous for. As much as we wanted to take photos and capture everything we were seeing, we had been cautioned by our guide not to - or face the risk of being charged a lot of money if we did. Hubby was often approached by people enticing him to take their photo but he politely declined - sure in the knowledge that he would later be stalked for some money.
They had many beautiful things in the souk. I could have easily given our home a Moroccan makeover. I love Moroccan design. From intricate silverware, to colourful fabrics, and beautiful filigree lamps, tagines and ceramics of every imaginable colour. I bought a few glass containers with silver detail and wanted to buy more, but to be honest, I find the whole process of haggling quite exhausting. I don't like shopping that way and it takes so much time, but unfortunately, that's the way it is in the souks.
It was getting late and we still needed to find our way to the riad. We would just have to come back when we returned toMarrakech for our flight back to Madrid.
We remembered our way back to Jemaa el-Fna square and decided we would use that as our starting point.
By the time we had reached the square it was already dark and it had completely transformed into street theatre. There were performers and vendors everywhere. The food stalls were filled with people and there was such a vibe and hustle and bustle about the place. On several occasions vendors would hold out toys, balloons, or whatever they were selling in front of Mig who would naturally take it, then they would hassle us for payment. We were quick to return the goods to them as quickly as they had given it to Mig, each time creating an outburst with Mig who wanted to keep it. By the fifth time I had gotten sick of it and gave Mig 1 Dirham, telling him that the next time someone gives him a toy he can give them the money. Sure enough, less an 2 minutes later someone gave him a toy and he held out the 1 Dirham coin to them - but the guy wanted 5 Dirham. We told him Mig only had 1 Dirham. He didn't agree, he wanted 5. Sorry, we shrugged our shoulders, indicating that's all Mig had so he took his toy back and returned the money to Mig. Problem solved.
Further along we spotted a monkey. We discretely watched from a distance and kept walking. The kids were fascinated but we kept walking. Then the guy spotted us and headed straight for Bee offering for her to touch it. She didn't want to so he put the monkeys hand on her shoulder and kept telling Hubby to take a picture. We politely declined and kept walking. Then Bee squeals and the next thing I see is that she has the monkey riding on her head. She was half freaking out and half giggling. I found it quite amusing but tried to contain my laughter just motioning to the guy to take him off. We kept walking, the monkey was still on Bee's head as he walked with us. It was a funny sight and I really wish we had a photo. It could have been a very expensive one if we did though.
As we made our way through the souks following our hand drawn map, we took a wrong turn. The instructions seemed a bit unclear and we suddenly found ourselves confused. That's all the so-called 'guides' needed to come in and offer a 'helping hand' so we could find our way. We were approached by several, each calling out different directions, each asking what language we spoke. We ignored them knowing they were the people to avoid, motioned to them that we didn't need their help with the words 'La shukran' ('No thank you' in Arabic) and kept walking.
We decided to ask for help from a couple of lady shopkeepers who only spoke French and Arabic. We showed them the map, they responded in French showing us their business card with a map on it so we knew where we were. We still didn't understand. One of them then motioned for us to wait while she went somewhere. She came back with an English version of Fodor's Guide to Marrakech and opened it to the back page showing us the map. We were impressed but still couldn't make out which way we needed to go as the map wasn't detailed enough. Then a gentleman came in and there was 3-way conversation in Arabic. Oh great, I thought. This is getting bigger than Ben Hur and I wasn't sure if I could trust the male. Was he one of those so-called guides who had tried to help us earlier? Was this part of their scheme to scam helpless, lost tourists through the souks? Had they established that we were truly lost and it was time to scam us? We showed them the address of the riad we were staying at written in Arabic, which incidentally had the mobile phone number of the riad manager. Then a fourth male came in. Suddenly the 2 ladies were on their mobile phones trying to ring the riad manager. Oh dear! We weren't THAT lost, I thought. Really. We'll be OK. We can find our way. No need to involve so many people. Then excited conversations in Arabic over the phone and to each other. One lady gets off the phone and tells Hubby that our riad manager was 5 minutes away and would come and get us. We should wait for him. They made us sit and wait. Suddenly I was suspicious. That's not right, I thought. The riad manager was off duty and would have been at home preparing the watch the football match between Real Madrid and Barcelona - which was due to start in 5 minutes. There was no way he would have been 5 minutes away. Even the riad was more than a 5-minute walk away. Who had they called? Why didn't the riad manager ask to speak to us so we knew it was him? Here we were, sitting ducks, possibly waiting for someone to come and pretend they were there to help us - only to get us even more lost. It's the stuff you read about. People passing you on to a 'cousin' or 'friend' that will supposedly help you - only to scam you for money. Let's get out of here, I told Hubby. This is classic textbook scamming the Marrakech way. We're getting taken for a ride. Each time we motioned that we were going to get up and leave, they would frantically motion for us to stay. Hubby wanted to wait. I wanted to leave. It was our 2nd night in Marrakech and suddenly everything I had read about was happening to us, I thought.
Just as the 5 minutes were up and I was ready to walk a scooter zips by and off jumps our riad manager from the back of it. Oops. Hubby turns to me, "I guess some times you just have to have faith", he says. I felt 2 inches tall. In the meantime, the lady from the shop appeared to be giving our riad manager a mouthful in Arabic as they discussed his hand-drawn map turning it upside down trying to work out how to read it. Our riad manager was motioning for her to calm down as he turned the map around and started explaining the landmarks drawn on the map. It was quite a comical sight actually and I felt so embarrassed for doubting these genuinely helpful people who had taken the time out to help us and even used their own phones to make the phone call. We thanked them profusely for their help, handed them a tip and made our way out of the souks and back to the riad with the riad manager and his friend who was now walking with his scooter (and who was, by this stage, probably missing the first half of their football match!)
This whole episode was an eye-opener for me and I'm glad it happened. While there are people who will scam you, there are also genuinely good Moroccans who will help you. And like anywhere, it's the minority of negative stories and experiences that give the place a bad name and overshadow all the good that the place has to offer.
No comments:
Post a Comment