We
spent two days in the ‘imperial’ city of Fes, once capital of Morocco, now its
premier artisanal town, with its storied ancient medina jam-packed with superb
craftsmen. ‘Packed’ is the right word, for the medina is a rabbit warren of
narrow alleys twisting and turning in all directions. Getting lost carries no
shame.
We
stayed in the heart of the city in a ‘riad’, one of the large multi-storied
houses surrounding a courtyard, open to the sky. Technically ‘riad’ denotes a
dwelling with the courtyard fountain imbedded in a wall, while ‘dar’ is
reserved for the same kind of house with a fountain centered in the courtyard.
Really fancy places have both.
The
‘riads’ and ‘dars’ are havens of peace and quiet, but out in the streets there
is a hustle and bustle that defies imagination. Oh the humanity! I have never
been bumped and jostled by so many people, not to mention dodging donkeys, the
main mode of transporting goods to market, supplies to construction sites, even
the trash. ‘Beasts of burden’ was a well-coined phrase.
Ever
present are street hustlers loudly hawking wares, or worse whispering
enticements that include offers of ‘kif’ (hashish) or prostitutes, even
themselves. Francesco was approached by one young man who said, ‘I know you are
hungering for a Berber man’.
Neither of us knew that fact yet, but now that the thought has been
lodged – who knows?
Highlight
of our visit was a tour - thanks to our hotel owner - of a government-sponsored
school that trains Moroccan boys and girls in artisanal skills. Fes is the
proud center of Morocco’s famed leather tanning industry – conducted exactly as
it was 1000 years ago – and also home to the ‘blue of Fes’ ceramics and tile
trade. Add to that brass-, copper-, gold-, and silver-smithing, jewelry making,
rug and textile weaving, embroidery, ironmongery, and – fabulous art form! –
piercing and engraving plaster panels by hand with elaborate designs. (What in
the world do you call that?)
On
our way home we diverted to the ruins of the ancient city of Volubilis, capital
of the furthest extremity of the Roman empire, its far-flung province of
Mauritania. What a treat, a treasure; what a delicious way to spend several
indulgent hours on a sunny and warm winter day, admiring stunning mosaics amid
graceful columns.
In
a verdant valley, wild flowers abloom, the city is poised on a small stream,
with wide cobbled streets descending gentle slopes in orderly grids, all dominated
by a broad central square with its haughty forum and triumphal arch. Imperial Fes
to imperial Volubilis – what contrast!
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