Day of Haggling

We saved our last day in Marrakech for some final shopping. Sue had some ideas of things she'd like to import for our house, and the kids had a few things in minds as well.  My job was to be the negotiator.

We got some really cool art, seat cushions, a tea set and other things. At each stop, Sue and/or the kids would pick something out, and then would leave me to do the bartering.

Bryce tried out some horns:

Laurel is fascinated with keys and locks, and tried out this over sized custom model:

In Morocco, it's considered an insult if you don't haggle, so you don't really have any choice.  I was always at a disadvantage, since the family would spend 10 minutes picking out something, and then leave me to work out a price.  It was obvious that I wasn't going to walk away (which is a great technique).  On top of that, the negotiations would usually occur in French, and I'd have to mentally do currency conversions in my head, so it was pretty taxing. Nevertheless, I came up with a system that seemed to work well. Here's how it went:

1. I would take Madani aside, and ask him how much something was worth.
2. The vendor would quote me a ridiculously high price. I would laugh.
3. I would come back with a super-low price.  The vendor would laugh and then start explaining to me how much work was involved, the quality of the craftsmanship, etc.
4. The vendor would lower his price a little. I would raise mine a little, trying to maintain an average of Madani's target.
5. Eventually we'd be close, and the vendor would make it look like he wouldn't budge. 
6. I would start to walk away, and he would come down a little bit to the target.
7. Often the "I've only got 500 dirhams" tactic would work if the target was 500 dirhams.
8. Finally we'd come to a deal, and begin to shake hands yet a few times the agreed upon price would be increased a bit while we were our hands were grasped together in mid-shake.  A last minute version of thumb wrestling I suppose (or number confusion for the buyer).
9. Nonetheless upon completion of the transaction the vendor would be all smiles, and thumping of my back and would even give a couple of small things to the kids as a gift. 

The only time I failed to make a deal was at the end of the day, when I was tired of haggling. Bryce wanted a little stuffed leather camel. The vendor wanted 180 dirhams (about $20).  I tried to offer 30 dirhams, but mixing up my French I offered him 300 instead.  He came back with 400 dirhams. We were clearly going in the wrong direction. Once I realized my mistake I offered him 30 instead, but he probably thought I was messing with him and let me walk away.

Cooking with the Rachitas

by Bryce

Cooking with the Rachitas in Riad O2

Sigh, it's our last day in Morocco. So sad. At least we cooked with the Rachitas. It was fun. We first started by watching one Rachita put ginger, lemon, and some other spices into Laurels' pork tagine. It was a bit surprising because she actually put lemon rinds in the dish. Laurel couldn't believe it. After that I asked (with a little help from my Dad cause he's the French master) if I could help one of the Rachitas cut the fruit for the dessert. It was a yes and I helped the Rachita. I had a great time using a whole darn melon on a game I called "melon wars".  This was where you tried to stuff a bigger piece of melon into your mouth than the other person. The game lasted forever.  To bad Mom and Dad weren't there to compete. After that Laurel and I set to work snapping the greenest beans you'll ever see. Our beans where easy to tell apart. Mine were snapped very close to the end and Laurels' were snapped closer to the middle. Laurel advised me to stay away when they were gonna do things to the chicken legs in the bowl since I was almost a vegetarian I followed her advise. Afterwards, Laurel showed me the disgusting chicken guts. I went back inside and was treated to a whole bowl of strawberries and sugar. That night we had a huge feast of exotic beans (I'm not sure how the Rachitas got Laurel to eat one), fruit, bread, and mint tea. I slept great except for the fact that my stomach was growling cause it wanted Rachitas outstanding breakfast so much. In the morning we where served a great breakfast on the huge balcony of our over sized suite. We left our Riad saying things like "Au Revior!" or "Ciao!".  We bought some final souvenirs at the Marrakesh airport and prepared to say good bye to Morocco and hello to Spain!         

stay tuned for Bryce's next article, Spanish style

Outdoor Kitties

Madani showed us that Moroccan cats are let outside during the day, and let in for the night. Some hotels have cats living there because apparently they catch mice. Hotels like that. We took a few pics on street kitties:

                                    Kittens playing on a motorbike. Look how tired mama is.

                                                       One of the little cuties.

                                       Kitten living at our hotel in the Atlas Mountains.

                                               Mama coming to check on the kits.

                                                        Just plain cute.......

                                                        

                                                          By Laurel

Hammam

One of the rituals in Morocco is the Hammam, a spa-like treatment that everyone does here.  Madani says he goes twice a week.  Every riad (guesthouse) and every neighborhood has one, and without knowing too many details we decided to give it a try.

We chose the hammam in our riad. They had a menu of treatments, and also a massage option.  We had heard there was a steam bath as part of this, and some treatments with "savon noir" (black soap). Sue and Laurel went first, followed by Bryce and me. The room was a tiny igloo-like structure, with a faucet and basin on the floor, heated tile below you, and a slightly steamy atmosphere. 

The inside of our hammam

Bryce and I waited outside as Laurel and Sue underwent their treatment, and all we heard was "it's not quite what I expected" from them when they returned.

The boys went in next.  Our therapist was Sophia, an attractive Arab woman in her twenties.  First, she washed us with a special soap, and then took a scrubbing pad filled with herbs and scrubbed almost every inch of our bodies (even behind the ears) until our skin was bright red.  Finally, she applied a mud to both of us and let it sit for 10 minutes or so, gave each of us a shampoo, and then did a final rinse.  After that, I got an awesome 30 minute massage.

The scrubbing was quite an unusual sensation, and it left my body tingling for a few hours afterwards.  You could see the dead skin collected from the scrub-down, but it felt really good.  At some parts of the process, we were to lay down on a mat on the hot floor, and it was just hot enough to the point of being unbearable for us sensitive westerners. Everyone was tired at diner that night, primarily because of the novel stimulation we had all experienced. But we all felt great. My only regret is that we didn't do this sooner.

Update:  I asked Madani about having a woman treat male customers, since this seemed to be an exception to the men/women separation in Arab culture.  Madani explained that the tourist industry has brought about a loosening of the rules, although in the traditional Hammams, men always treat men and women treat women.

Bryce's Berber Barber

We had scheduled just one day in the Atlas Mountains, which allowed us to take another awesome hike on the donkey trails by our Casbah hotel. Today, the kids went willingly. and Sue got some more great pictures of the surrounding area.

We had another great lunch, and as we were getting close to our taxi pickup time, I went down into town by myself to meet our driver ahead of the family.  What I didn't realize was that the trail up to the hotel was rather convoluted, and I got lost several times on my way into town.  I found myself on a series of donkey trails, in the middle of a Morrocan mountain town, with no clue as to where I was.  It was a little disconcerting. Fortunately, I found a group of French tourists, and followed them into town. Sue and the kids had arrived two minutes earlier, and our driver was awaiting.

On the drive back to Marrakech, we asked to see a Berber market, so we stopped at the Saturday market in a town called Asni. This was similar to many of the Mexican markets we have visited - lots of produce sellers, hardware, electronics, clothing and other knick-knacks. 

 

 

As we walked towards the edge of the market, a haircutter greeted us and motioned for Bryce to sit in his barber chair "for a photo".  Bryce was way overdue for a haircut, and the barber asked if he could trim here and trim there, and we were far enough along that Bryce was OK just getting the full haircut.

Apparently our Berber barber moonlighted as a dentist, as he had a variety of tooth extractors next to his haircutting tools. A tooth sat on his tray as well.

When you're in a poorer country like Morocco or Mexico, and someone performs a service, we have seen that the locals have figured out they do better if when asked for a price, they just respond with "whatever you like".  In most cases, foreigners will overpay on the current market rate.  I gave our barber about $12, and he snatched it from me so fast (with a very polite "thank you") that I knew I had overpaid.  But he still did a decent job, and I'm OK with helping the local economy - especially so far out of the city.

The neighboring vendor saw the transaction, and immediately became very interested in us, wrapping both kids in local head-wear. Laurel looked cute in her indigo wrap, and Bryce was given the Tuareg treatment. In case Bryce hated his haircut, we figured the Arab look would be a good backup.

 

 

The vendor, having seen the transaction with the barber, wanted $17 for both wraps, but I offered him $6, and refused to budge.  He continually went down in price until we arrived at the $6 point (which was still more than the locals would have paid).  It was pretty funny watching him try to negotiate, since it was obvious he was trying to overcharge.

After that, we were done with the market, and headed back to Marrakech.

Atlas Mountains

Today we took an overnight trip out of the craziness of Marrakech to the more serene Atlas Mountains, just 40 miles outside of the city.  Even though it's so close, it seems like a million miles away. The Atlas mountains run as high as 12,000 feet above sea level, and even though we are in Africa in May, they still have snow upon them.

The scenery was awesome. Sue got this picture of a high-Atlas town on our way in.

On our drive, Madani (our Guide) arranged for a visit to a Berber house.  We also got to tour the house, checked out the home's hammam (sauna), and got treated to real authentic Berber mint tea. Sue and I were horrified as the father put two sugar cubes the size of my fist into the tea, but Madani explained that this was from sugar beets, and was a lot less strong than normal sugar. The tea was delicious, and we enjoyed watching the process unfold.

Along the road, our car became part-time shepherd to help the full-time one with his duties.

Once we arrived in the town of our destination, we had a 15 minute walk to get to our hotel, as there is no road to get there.  It's a casbah (family fortress), converted into a nice hotel, way up in the high Atlas mountains.  To help with our bag, and kids, the hotel sent down a donkey for the final part of the journey.

 

We stayed at Kasbah du Toubkal, in the village of Imlil. The hotel itself is stunning. It's perched on a cliff, with snow covered mountains visible all around.  A Berber village built into the mountainside sits across a large creek. You can see the mountains in the distance in this shot:

We enjoyed a delicious lunch on the patio.

After lunch, the hotel provided a guide for us to hike along the mountainside. Mohammed was a 22 year old who lived in the village across the creek, and spoke great English.  We went up into the hills, crossed the river, and walked through the Berber village Mohammed lives in. It's similar to Marrakech in its lack of urban planning and narrow, random streets. Not having to worry about being run over by a teenager with a motorbike was a refreshing change.



Mohammed invited us to his house to meet his family, and enjoy yet another cup of mint tea.  Of course, we accepted his hospitality, as it was a great opportunity to see how yet another Berber family lives.  His mother sat with us and made tea, and his fifteen year old sister looked on curiously.  We gave the family a bag of chocolate covered nuts and fruit.

 

It was great to get out and be outdoors. Mohammed was really forthcoming about what it is like to live in his village. Apparently, at 22, he is one of the older bachelors in town. Most girls get married around 18.

Thanks Mohammed!

Mad About Madani

We have a super cool guide named Madani. Normally, we wouldn't hire a guide, but here in Marrakech it's absolutely essential. Everything is so chaotic and so different, that without someone to take you places and explain the culture the experience would be not nearly as interesting.

Here's Madani:

The super-cool thing about Madani - besides speaking great English and being an incredible guide - is how he carries himself through town.  Everywhere you go, there are motorbikes and cars whizzing past you - sometimes inches away.  Madani is unfazed.  He has a slow, steady lope, and just glides through all the chaos like he has an invisible force field around him.

Update: If you're in Marrakech or surrounding areas, and want to contact Madani,  email him at madaniguide@hotmail.com or call at +212 661 343 524.

More Exploring in Marrakech

Unfortunately, Bryce was not feeling great today, and even though he wasn't "regurgitating" any more, he decided to chill in the Riad while Laurel, myself and Sue went out with Madani.  We had quite a day, walking all over town.

We visited the Saadi tombs. These were shrines for royalty, and weren't discovered until 1917, and date to the 1600s.  There were three rooms: one for kings, one for their wives, and one for royal kids (most of whom died due to bubonic plague). The architecture and lighting was very cool:

Along the way, Madani took us to a typical Moroccan bakery.  Every neighborhood has its own bakery. Individuals and restaurants take their unbaked bread here, and the baker shoves the loaves into a huge oven (with 12 foot long spatulas).  Each person marks their loaves with a unique symbol to tell them apart. This particular bakery was 180 years old.

We also visited the Bahia Palace.  Unlike the Royal Palaces, which are not open to the public, this one from the early 1900s is available to tour.  It was occupied by the Grand Vizier (sort of like the governor), who ran the country while the 11 year old King was being educated. The Grand Vizier lived large, with four wives, and 24 concubines.  The four wives all had their own quarters, with a common courtyard, and the concubines stayed in a separate area (which used to be horse stables). Apparently the concubines had to share their rooms with one other woman.

While not as grand as some of the other palaces we have visited, the Bahia was still pretty impressive.

And what would Marrakech be without a little more shopping?  Madani took us to a shop run by a designer named Aya, who had some amazing, one-of-a-kind clothes. I bought a green cashmere sweater (to be unveiled in Tahoe), and Sue got a stunning jacket (which Laurel will wear a lot while it still fits.) Aya posed with Laurel when we were done.

After returning home and recharging, all four of us went to the Jemaa El-Fna (main square) for some Moroccan style fun. We tried a game of landing a plastic donut-shaped ring over a soda bottle using a fishing pole, and were unsuccessful (it was practically impossible, although it looked doable).

From there, we walked around a bit and tried not to look at the monkeys or snake charmers, lest we be accosted.  But we were getting hungry, so we wandered around the food stalls, having to fend off dozens of very aggressive restauranteurs, until finally settling on a place that had a decent number of other people and a friendly fellow named "Johnny Walker" who was its spokesman. We ordered various barbequed skewers of meat and chicken, and Bryce had some couscous and bread.  Sue was not totally sold on the hygiene, but she eventually nibbled on some grilled veggies, bread and french fries.  Laurel and I are more adventurous, and we enjoyed our grilled meats.

The eating area in the square has probably a hundred eateries, and most of the clientele are foreigners.  Everything is brightly lit, and looks great. Here's how our stand appeared:

For dessert (which the kids won't let us bypass), a vendor came by our table with a nice variety of baklavas, cookies and other yummies on a cart.  The kids were able to choose an assortment for about $3.

Marrakech is really intense. I'm glad we'll be taking a break tomorrow and heading to the Atlas mountains for an overnight adventure...

Call to Prayer

One of the coolest things about Marrakech is the five times daily call to prayer.  Mosques from all over the city start at almost the same time, and it sounds amazing as the ebb and flow of the various muezzin (callers) starts slowly, builds to a crescendo, and then fades away.

We're usually back at the riad for the 5:09 event, and I had the foresight to be prepared and record this afternoon's call. Enjoy!

Spices

Moroccans are definitely the world leaders in spice-awareness.  I though the Chinese were tops, but Moroccans are really dialed in, both on the food front and the medicinal front.

Asa part of our adventure today, we visited a spice shop, and had a great presentation by one of the woman owners on some of the things they use for food and medicine.  We even bought a bunch of cool tinctures, including green lipstick that turns red when applied, and some cumin that's supposed to help cure my snoring.   We'll see!

Bryce gets a massage with special Argon(?) oil.

 

This place had tons of spice jars. Note the natural dyes.

 

Sue and Laurel got some natural eye liner. 

 

The kids in front of the impressive collection of spices.

Rug Merchant

Why is it that when you mention the words "rug merchant", you think of a sales experience unlike any other?  Today we found out first-hand why.

Madani took us to a great store full of handmade rugs.  They had some amazing pieces, all hand-made.  The proprietor had his helpers lay out rug after rug for us, and we would say the Arabic for "take it" or "save it" (I forget the exact words).  They poured us tea while they showed off their rugs.  It was fun.  Finally, we found a rug we really liked, and the owner wanted us to buy two for a "great deal".  We insisted on one, and he wrote down a price. I wrote down a much smaller price, and this went on for a little while until I told him we weren't going to over some imaginary budget.  Finally he relented, and they packed us a beautiful souvenir to take home with us.

I hope I got a good deal.  We do know a little about rugs, so we didn't get totally ripped off, but who knows if we overpaid. Apparently, if you don't bargain, the shopkeepers feel disappointed.  Nevertheless, we have a great souvenir, and a story and a memory behind it, so all in all it's worth it no matter what the price.

Here's the shopkeeper and I sealing the deal:

Doors in Marrakech

During our walk today, Madani (our guide) explained how doors work here. There is an inner door, and an outer door, and a different knocker (with a different sound) on each, as you see here:

The small door is for family, and the large door is for guests.  Since the knockers sound different, you know if it's family or friends at the door depending on the knock.  Friends are treated to the big door, since it's more hospitable, but family goes through the small door to save energy.  Also, the Muslim women don't have to cover if they know it's family entering the house.

Cool stuff.

Bryce's Photo Essay on our Riad

Bryce did a photo essay on our riad here in Marrakesh, complete with commentary.  These were originally a series of emails Bryce sent his friend Matt, but it works well as a blog post too.  Some of the captions are priceless:

 Our balcony. Note the outdoor shower.

 

Massagers will probably massage us under that tarp thing.

 

Niccccce

 

They served us good Moroccan food here last night. The cook stuffed us.
Right now I'm on our couch regurgitating the lettuce.

Our kitchen

Another dining table. Had champagne here last night to celebrate landing in Marrakech, Morocco,   Africa.

Down these stairs you'll find a great living / dining room.

 

 

Dining room area

 

 

Niccce

Nice one. These guys have to email me their interior designers contacts.
 

My room. Laurel trashed it with her stuff. Pick up your clothes and belongings laurel!

Now they really have to do a lot of things. One, email me their interior designers contacts and two, tell me how'd they get this much room in a hotel. Wow