the New City

Giving a good picture of life in the Medina and the rich history that has preceded its current, negligibly varied existence, was a much easier task than now bringing you outside its surrounding walls in attempts to spotlight the “new city”. In part because it has been difficult for me to draw parallels for myself of where I have been submersed.

City life is city life to some real extent. We can and do walk everywhere we have to go, unless it’s too far with the kids. In that case we take a Petite Taxi. They are everywhere, but hard to find one going in the direction you hope to travel. Plus they can only take 3 people at a time (including kids). There are no seat belts – just hold on – and make sure you do too, cause it is a crazy ride! The sidewalks look like they might have been nice at one time (and some still are), but “construction” (guys digging it up with hand shovels, sectioning areas off from pedestrians and traffic with whatever they can find… their coats, a spare shovel, etc.) seems to have compromised much of it. There are sections not paved, demolished lots, empty store fronts, trash piles, sewage running in streets, etc….. but there are also some very Western/modern stores. An appliance store sits up the road from us, and the somewhat trustworthy “Marrakesh” restaurant. Then there is the fancy, Hotel Moona – which is right across the street from a friend of ours who has an impressively successful business repairing shoes from within his makeshift cardboard box store front. That sits right outside of a Hannut (711ish kind of store) that we frequent for the day’s bread and other various supplies (soft drinks and water are sold there, nuts & seeds in large burlap sacks that you can buy by the kilo, shampoo, crackers, diapers, that kind of thing). And the café’s!!! There is literally a café, maybe two, on every block! Indoor and outdoor seating all year long, mostly frequented by men before and after work as they sit, smoke, and make women walking by feel very uncomfortable.

There are banks and Western clothing stores, cyber “café’s” (a room with a bunch of computers & online access), and restaurants – but to buy fresh food, anything that resembles a supermarket is a taxi ride away. The local marketplace is where we walk to find produce, meat, fish and cheese. This terribly unsanitary "Rice’s market" of sorts – sits inside cement walls with a semi-open roof. It smells of fish and raw poultry, and as you make your way through the wet cement isles, your eyes dodge from hanging sheep heads, fish and beef, to piles of fruits and vegetables.

What I observe of the people provides no help in defining the culture of this New City. Many remain covered (both men & women) in djellabas – from the oldest generation all the way down to, I’d say 20’s and 30’s. Many women, even if not fully covered, still cover their heads with scarves and remain modestly dressed. But then there are many, who you wouldn’t look twice at if they were walking down the streets of Philadelphia – in heals, tight jeans, shorter shirts and jackets. The younger generation of men… well, if I mentioned the 80’s band, “Menudo” – does that help at all?

This dichotomy of cultures, all less than a mile from the Medina, is a piece of what makes life here difficult to wrap your mind around and identify. They are a culture in flux as the Western influence has moved in so fast they are not quite sure who they are right now. There is so much more to say, But I hope this gives you a picture of where I am and where those who work here are wrestling to be most effective. I do have to say that I have been joyfully “Welcom[ed] to Morocco!” on countless occasions, for despite generational difference, the kindness and humility of this people has been passed down without compromise!

It has been difficult to take pictures (taking pictures of people is a “no, no”) without being disrespectful and standing out more than I already do – but there are a few on available on facebook. http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=91779&id=756177649&l=04071