Fez, Morocco, June 2013 As part of the sacred music festival, a forum is dedicated…
Breadcrumbs (Fez)
poop. of cats probably
dying cockroach
red door with a chalk drawing of a sun
water, and sewer plates in the cobbled alley. sewage.
the letters, “MAS” carved into plaster inward-leaning walls
paintings hung on both sides – Berber Art Gallery
Bella Casa, the shop on the main street that is our touchstone,
home of the naked woman, the proprietress points out to us
as she indicates an unclothed mannequin: “you see? In Morocco
we also have naked women.”
a harp made from the intestines of the camel
Do you sing? we are asked, or are you here only to listen?
ahead in the street (Talaa Seghira) fabric that flies in the breeze, indicating heaven
Fez Real Estate Agency, Banque Popular
Keystone arch
then an opening in a wall, the opening is crooked
Fabrique de poterie
e percussion
cats the narrowing alley
6 alleys beyond midnight
and next to the turnoff toward the tanneries
the boy who knew where we lived
when we were lost the first night. we gave him coins
the cyber café: Cyber Yassine (sign in a shape indicating a red telephone)
Bella Maria, the shop that was our false muse
we thought we were closer to home than we really were
pomegranate tree
“Hafid Snakhd” carved in an old stone wall
sound of water running beneath a grate at the gutter, an awful smell
then a fountain
simultaneous knowledge
a man stands in the fountain, shaving
from beneath the hem of his robe—two metal poles for legs
scarves scarves piles hundreds, inside
hundreds more and the incense and the garbage
the entrance to a mosque
Diving to the right, a queen cat on her throne pillow a wreath of kittens
the connecting alley to Talaa Kebira from Talaa Seghira
from there the water clock, flow of water, the sound indicating time for prayer
butcher stall: the meat alongside the medersa
eggs, the meat tattooed with green ink
down takes you to the hammam and the money change
up to the Café Clock, the gathering place for expatriates, artists, students
but quite safe really, compared to everything else, for safe hipsters
back via the connecting alley and down another twisted opening
past the shoemaker with his paper patterns on the wall
Steven puts coins in the hand of a man by the wall and they whisper in passing
without stopping to look each other in the face.
(notes made while walking in the Fez Medina so I could find our way back to our lodging)