When I last left you, I was on my way to follow some local residents near my Fes hotel, toward the local mosque for the call to prayer. In a previous story, I described my observations of the call to prayer and some of the rituals involved with this spiritual and mystical act.
I found the little side street I had spied earlier in this fairly nondescript neighborhood of homes and apartments, maybe built in the late 1950’s or early 1960’s. I followed the street a couple of blocks into the center of the neighborhood where I came upon the local mosque. I suppose prayers had recently been concluded because there were all kinds of people, young and old, men and women and all kinds of kids milling about. Small groups started peeling off, arm in arm, talking and heading down a second side street. I decided to follow them to see where they were going. I passed by a storefront where handmade, inlaid tables were being worked, a local shopette and a tailor. I passed by busy apartment buildings and soon saw the street open up onto a vacant lot next to my hotel and across from the Mar’jane market I had visited earlier in the day. I had not even noticed this large vacant piece of land before.
The street connected to a dirt path worn clear of vegetation from hundreds of feet passing by, using it as a thoroughfare to the main boulevard and the local bus stop. I saw a shepherd with a flock of Berber sheep entering the clearing from the opposite side of me and wondered where he was going. As I proceeded down the path, I saw small groups of people, maybe a couple of women or a trio of men, move off the path and just sit down in the weeds. The women opened up a little picnic snack, the men just sat, talking. As I looked around, there were people walking, kids were playing and others just sitting where they stopped. What a concept, when you are tired, just sit down! No need for a bench or table or blanket. The shepherd was making his way across the field, keeping to the perimeter as much as possible, but even so, life was just going on, it was just there happening before me. No one took notice of this foreigner, watching.
I made my way to a grassy knoll near the boulevard and realized I was getting tired and thought I would try out this new concept I had just learned of. I stopped in my tracks and sat down. Wow, it was pretty cool. From where I sat, I could see things going on in the street, cyclists, cab drivers, a moped carrying a family of four, buses. Soon, I heard some rustling behind me. I turned to look and the flock of sheep I had seen earlier was upon me, grazing around me, taking no notice. The thick matted wool and long wooly tails brushed me as they grazed. They soon surrounded me as they made their pass through this particularly grassy greenbelt near the road. Ten minutes had passed and they were soon on their way to better grazing further down the road.
It was time for me to get back to the hotel. The gift shop should be open by now and there was a djellaba that interested me when I spotted it earlier in the window.
I entered the gift shop and purchased the obligatory postcards. I have traveled enough now that I print out adhesive address labels before I go anywhere. That way I don’t have to spend time doing anything but scribbling a quick note, sticking on an address label on the postcard and drop the thing in a mailbox. I also took this opportunity to purchase a map of the Fes medina we had visited. I was determined to try to get a layout of the area in my head. After scrutinizing the map for awhile, I was no better off, but I can work on that later. I heard a djellaba calling my name!
This piece of traditional hooded clothing is worn by men and women in all walks of life. It is a loose fitting robe worn over your street clothes. The djellaba comes in all styles, colors and shapes and is made out of various fabrics. They may be made from heavier wool fabrics for winter warmth or light cotton pastels for comfort in the hotter summer temperatures. The pointed hood or cob, can be worn over the head in combination with a head scarf and veil for women or just over the head of men for protection.
It is a comfortable and modest garment, especially for women. In this Muslim culture, modesty and conservative dress is the norm. You will see many people outside of the medina dressed in a more Western fashion but I can assure you, in the medina women of means will be wearing smartly decorated djellabas over their street clothes and designer shoes as will the merchant or housewife who might wear a simpler version of the garment. For a foreign woman, especially Western women, in order to avoid harassment, inappropriate groping, bumping and stares, the djellaba will go a long way toward avoiding unwanted attention. I found many beautiful kaftans in the store, but what I wanted was the djellaba.
I soon saw what I wanted, a heavy flannel like, deep burgundy color robe with same color trim. It was the perfect length and it was soon mine. I wanted to melt into the crowd and be one of them. Fes had been cool in the mornings, warming up later in the day, so I thought the djellaba was something I would be able to wear for the rest of my tour. I was soon heading back to my room for the evening folkloric dinner show. We had already been cautioned by Mohamed, that a mock wedding would take place tonight in addition to some other performances, and some of our party would be asked to participate.
So, this is where I will leave you with my story kind reader. Look me up again soon to find out more about the wedding!
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