Daydreaming In Morrocco (traveller’s notes)
Arriving
Something special happens when travelling alone. The heart slows down, the mouth closes, the ears open, the eyes widen. My soul, by necessity, needs to re-establish a new home, find a new family and some new friends.
People I’m used to ignoring at home become opportunities for a new reality. I put my (supposed) preferences aside, forced to play the cultural rules of another country, and to navigate it with all the help I can get. The world (even in a single street!) is bigger than my ideas and beliefs. Way bigger. It’s not even a competition.
Morrocco is a remarkable place. I find it something resembling the hustle-bustle of India, but with far less potential for awkward, frustrating and/or tiring situations to arise. The local streetsellers, waiters and restaurant owners are charismatic and engaging, but not manipulative nor overly pushy. They ask an honest price and yet still take care of you.
It’s a delicate line that’s thoroughly enjoyable when gotten right, and the people of Marrakech, for the most part, have it pretty spot on…
Tipping
The pleasure of tipping a waiter or food establishment (and being able to afford to), for me, is the purest and most honest form of charity that exists - possibly one of the only kinds in fact.
It’s an exchange of real money between real people in real space, with an extra altruistic sentiment behind it.
Both parties win: I feel good for having given; they feel good for having earned well and for the quality of the job they’ve done.
Emptying
Another thing that strikes me about Marrakech is the amount of ‘empty’ time enjoyed by the locals throughout the day. Generally (from what I observe), the men work and women are more at home - when not working the men are socialising outside a lot also (women, again, not so much). The younger generation appears a bit different however, and teenage girls can be seen running juice stands, working the kitchen or bar of a restaurant also at times.
Again, in the richer parts of the city these rules don’t apply, as the largely Westernised trends of hotels, spas, lawns and fancy air-con restaurants are here just like every city in the world, seemingly, these days. No doubt there are countless middle-class, university-educated men and women earning good salaries in these parts, at banks, software companies and hotel chains etc all over Morrocco.
The reason I bring up these sub-sections of the culture is to notice my tendency to affiliate most with the leisurely working classes (those men sat for long hours in cafes playing cards or working the streets as waiters, restaurant-owners, bakers, clothes-repairers, shoe-makers or other shop owners).
Cash is still King here and so the hustle remains - you earn whatever you can manage, and whatever you pocket is yours. Trades and exchanges can be done spontaneously and easily in the moment, with a handshake, smile, verbal agreement and/or I dare say the occasional argument also. Real interactions with real people in real spaces.
As the world and technology advances I find myself ever-more inspired and passionate to hold onto these basic elements of daily life! I like the real life feedback and consequences that result from this daily hustle and hope to cultivate even more of these experiences and habits myself.
Staying
It’s been said that ‘the stiller the body, the more moving the mind’. There’s a lot to see in this area of Morrocco (mountains, desert, waterfalls, beaches, cities, sea), but instead I’ve stayed in one small area of Marrakech City only. By nature of limiting my travel and movements, my mind’s been able to daydream more.
As I walk, sit, stare and occasionally run, I bring full attention to the smells, sounds, tastes and touch of the air. The colours and noise and spices become the materials with which my mind contemplates and (re)imagines things. Outside of my usual routines, this short period helps me to see my choices, habits and designs from a distance.
I expect that at least a couple of things will shift when I’m home also; the result of these daydreams and wanderings being integrated into my ‘normal’ life.
Accepting
As these notes continue, I realise what a fraud I am and how grateful I am to be able to see it. What do I mean by this?
The way in which I/we cannot help but design categories in order to frame and pass on an experiences, and especially when describing other cultures and people.
Of course, I know close to nothing, really, about these people in Marrakech - just some impressions, observations and projections. I see myself in them though, that’s for sure; and I doubt I was able to feel so much that way when travelling before.
I more easily make friends, feel comfortable, fit in with the local culture here; largely because many of my epic ideas about myself, my worldly ambitions and any sense of being ‘special’ has dissolved in recent years. My days have been reduced to pages in notebooks, kilometres ran, hours worked and sets/reps of physical exercises being completed.
I’m more and more convinced that the crux of life, of ‘contentment’ I should say, lies in the ability to repeat, day-in-day-out, these fundamental things. This is what Morrocco, and especially it’s local people, moving gracefully yet persistently throughout their days, has shown me more than anything else…
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