After our flight and stepping off the ground in Marrakech I could immediately tell that it was going to be a very different experience then my travels in Europe. When walking off the plane people were stopping and trying to take a picture of the airport and they were stopped and told that they were not allowed to take pictures. This right away made me think “what have I gotten myself into”. Our tour guide picked us up and took us into the old city where the Jemaa el-Fna was located. There were snake charmers, guys with monkeys, henna artists and the beginnings of a huge market place. Right away I knew we were no longer in Europe. Marrakech, the Red City, did not have many types of architecture like Renaissance, Gothic, Byzantine, etc. Every building looked very similar and they all were the same burnt orange/red color. The difference in appearance between Europe and Africa was very apparent and the differences between the two kept growing as our 48 hour travels continued, however after being in Marrakech I have found a similarity that allowed me to relate with the people of Marrakech and appreciate their culture.
After we dropped our bags off at the hotel our guide took us back to the Jemaa el-Fna and we walked through the market. The acts that were performed reminded me of Las Ramblas in Barcelona where all of the people were dressed up in costumes and put on performances to try to get money. The difference though was that in Marrakech if you even looked at the performer you were expected to give them money, and they would come up and beg you to give it to them. After about ten minutes we realized that the best thing to do was to not even make eye contact for more than five seconds, otherwise we would have to deal with them putting their money basket in our faces and following us around.
The first stop once we g
ot in to where all the vendors were located was in front of the olive stand. Our guide kept telling us how “beautiful” the olive display was. I did not realize exactly what he meant at this point in the trip. I did not really see the beauty in the ten different types of olives for sale, but I figured he could not find the right word in English to describe them so I did not think much of it.
Once we left the mark
et we stopped at the oldest gardens in Marrakech, the Menara Gardens, which were built in the 12th century. This garden was much different then any that I had ever been to. It pretty much was a path leading to a man made pond, where olive trees were growing everywhere. We first fed the carp that were in the pond bread and watched them literally jump out of the water and fight each other in order to eat it. While at first I thought this is why we were brought to the garden, he again started talking to us about the olives in Marrakech. He told us that Marrakech was the third largest producer of olives and how it was what drove their economy. He explained how the pond had irrigation channels that led to the field of olive trees and was the main source of water so that they would grow and produce fruit. Again the olives at the Menara Gardens were described as “beautiful”. Usually I would definitely call a garden beautiful; however this one had trash everywhere, and just seemed so dirty and red. The only thing that was green was the olive trees, which seemed very unlike an alive garden. www.marrakech-cityguide.com/en/sightseeing/gardens/index.shtml
On day two of our trav
els we took a 3 hour ride to a city on the ocean. On our way there I noticed first of all how dry and red the dirt looked, as well as all of the olive trees growing everywhere. We stopped at a place where our guide told us that “this place will show you how the women do their work.” Not having a clue what this meant we walked inside and saw about five women sitting on the ground grinding something with a rock. Two of the ladies were grinding different kinds of olives and the others were grinding up the core of the olive. They first would roast it and then grind it into a thick paste that looked like a thick peanut butter substance. The women that were grinding the olives would grind it on this huge clay plate with a rock, and then have it over another large clay bowl so the olive oil would drip down into it. We were told that it took eighteen hours of work in order to make 1 liter of olive oil. T
his is the point in the trip where I realized the beauty in the olives. Not only were they growing everywhere, they were the main source of wealth in Marrakech, and people spent so much time and were given jobs because of the production of olives.
While the differences between Europe and
Africa was definitely apparent; like the architecture, cleanliness, language, and currency. There was still a similarity among them that allowed me to understand their culture more; they were proud in what their society produced. Just like in Luxembourg where the iron ore production is huge or in Valencia where they were very proud of their orange production, Marrakech shows pride in their olive production. On our two day trip to Morocco I feel like I understand their culture and can see the beauty in the olives grown in Marrakech.
Here are a few sites that give more information about Morocco:
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