Marrakesh Awakens part two

مراكش يوقظ

الجزء الثاني

I turn another corner.

You got to be quick on your feet—allowing the balls of your feet to roll left and right as the growing stream of people, mopeds, carts, pack animals, construction trucks, and yet more people, starts flowing ceaselessly around you. 

The rising temperature combines with the growing onslaught of sounds and smells to make the morning air grow increasingly oppressive.

Everywhere you step, sharp-tongued men now lay in wait. Ready to lure you—perhaps charm you—into their dusty little shops. “Yes, sir.” “Hello. Welcome.” “Sir, where are you from?” “Ah, Belgium, sir!” “Flammand or Wallonie?” “Welcome!” 

The sultry atmosphere inside the souks starts bearing down in ever-stifling force. Heavy with all sorts of toxic exhaust gasses, industrial fumes and headache-inducing tannery chemicals.

Another corner. «Chop! Chop!» Dull knives through coarse meat. Another corner. «Meep! Meep!» Piercing honks of mopeds—barely missing my toes. Another corner. «Waah! Waah!» High-pitched cries of infants…

The air is too thin, the exhaust fumes too thick, the hassles too many, and the peace and quiet too few. Everything here stabs at my retinas, in that brutally sharp contrast of the hard African sun. Soon, my eyes can take no more.

Catch your breath, step onto a little square.

Suddenly, my eyelids close in complete delight. My nostrils flare in utter enjoyment. A cool and gracious breeze gently strokes my cheekbones and bestows upon me the blessing of much needed refreshment. Carrying with it, from deep within the Marrakesh souks, sweet hints of orange blossom, rose water and the subtle scent of fresh mint.