Thursday, March 19, 2009
Fez, Morocco
Arrived late last night from Dublin.The plane landed about 10pm. The airport was empty as I believe it is normally closed at that time. Customs personnel at the airport outnumber our group of 13. They take my passport from me. It will be returned to me later, but I hate having it out of my possession — I will get used to this again. The conveyor is emptied of luggage, and we are trolleying out to the front where 5 cars and 2 vans await. And away we go into a very dark night.
Shan, Sharon and I were driven to the hotel by Sonia, our guide/translator from the recording sessions in 2007 (she's back on duty). She was driving rather speedily, and turned to explain: "i've been instructed to follow the luggage van, and I can't see it! We have to catch up!!" Then we got stopped along a very long and dark road. Pulling over, i think the three of us tour-gals were a little nervous: 4 women in a van late at night. Sonya is about 5 feet small; the word "petite" could have been created to describe her. But she speaks French and Arabic, and she spoke the latter to the man who pulled us over, and we were waved on our way. She explains again: she didn't rest long enough at a stop sign further back on the road. Then she counts, "1, 2, 3" as if to demonstrate how long one is supposed to remain still. I think back to my own "Road Test" for getting my driver's license.
When I finally arrived in my room it was nearly 12:30 a.m. (I did some work after we arrived, which required that I first intercept the luggage delivery from the vans so I could have my massage table delivered immediately to another room besides mine). I stepped out onto my balcony to find a blanket of the tiny lights of Fez below me. Not much to see in the dark, but if the sounds had been sights I wouldn't have been able to take my eyes of them: a rooster crowing, a dog barking, trickling water from the hotel fountain below, and from further away, a growling sort of sound, and many dogs barking. My eyes scanned looking for activity but it was difficult to see signs of life. Then far to my left I spotted a lone figure on dimly lit road met by another figure.
In the daylight now the sounds have changed. Birds birds birds. Pigeons cooing, smaller birds chirping. And more chirping! Drums are being played in the distance on that dimly lit road from last night. And now there are sights:Plumes of smoke from the ceramic makers' ovens over the hills, a smattering of palms and other trees, and the medina below (the ancient walled city) — a blanket of tarnished yellow buildings built from stone, mortar and wood. The occasional green tiled rooftop. At the top of every other building is a laundry line with clothes hanging. The sound of dogs barking again. A motorcycle. And the voices, I imagine, of locals doing business in the souk (market) and children coming home from school. And if I train my eyes to see them, satellite dishes are everywhere:
Todays' schedule has provided me with this short break back in my hotel room. I am sitting quietly on my balcony with my friend Frances, who is working diligently on interview notes. We are sharing a pot of coffee and watching the smoke spread across the entire sky, eclipsing the mountains I could see earlier.
The lights are starting to come on across Fez and the birds are now so loud it is like a high-pitched static in my ears.
It seems I cannot add another picture!
I will rectify this and share more.
See my pictures at SmugMug:
http://www.espencer.smugmug.com
