Fez,
Fez is astonishing: a living and working medieval city of myriad crafts that has survived into the twenty-first century. One of Morocco’s four Imperial Cities, Fez was the capital of the country until the French decided to move the seat of government to the Atlantic coast at Rabat.
Rabat was our landing place and local officials watched in some puzzlement as a group of Americans arrived by Zodiac with their luggage to land in the Atlantic foam on their city’s finest beach, there to board the bus that would take them through parched countryside to Fez.
Following the expulsion of the Moors from Andalusia in 1492, leading Islamic scholars migrated to Fez, bringing with them a rich store of learning that was to make this city one of the intellectual centers of the early modern world. We visited its ancient university and law schools, weaving shops and tanneries on a guided walking tour through narrow streets wide enough for mules but not for cars.
Our day ended at the luxurious Palais Jamai hotel where we checked in for the night and gathered for a Moroccan meal served to the accompaniment of traditional music and dance.
Shopping in Fez, as in other souks in Morocco, can be disconcerting for the western tourist. We are used to shopping around for a bargain, but are so used to being in relation to things, that we misread the signs. In this more traditional culture, the relationship is with people first and foremost. Here, you shop where you and your family have always shopped, take a mint tea and engage in conversation, and only when this personal relationship is established can the supply of goods proceed. People first, things second: a salutary reminder of a world we have lost and why our materialistic values can be so greatly resented.
Fez is a survivor from that world of traditional values. Its specialization in skilled craftwork has enabled it to survive as a living anachronism. Accorded Unesco World Heritage status, it is trying to survive massive overcrowding as drought drives a desperate rural population out of the countryside and into the city. It is a place that has so much to teach us about our past, present and future condition, that we can only hope that it survives.
Fez is astonishing: a living and working medieval city of myriad crafts that has survived into the twenty-first century. One of Morocco’s four Imperial Cities, Fez was the capital of the country until the French decided to move the seat of government to the Atlantic coast at Rabat.
Rabat was our landing place and local officials watched in some puzzlement as a group of Americans arrived by Zodiac with their luggage to land in the Atlantic foam on their city’s finest beach, there to board the bus that would take them through parched countryside to Fez.
Following the expulsion of the Moors from Andalusia in 1492, leading Islamic scholars migrated to Fez, bringing with them a rich store of learning that was to make this city one of the intellectual centers of the early modern world. We visited its ancient university and law schools, weaving shops and tanneries on a guided walking tour through narrow streets wide enough for mules but not for cars.
Our day ended at the luxurious Palais Jamai hotel where we checked in for the night and gathered for a Moroccan meal served to the accompaniment of traditional music and dance.
Shopping in Fez, as in other souks in Morocco, can be disconcerting for the western tourist. We are used to shopping around for a bargain, but are so used to being in relation to things, that we misread the signs. In this more traditional culture, the relationship is with people first and foremost. Here, you shop where you and your family have always shopped, take a mint tea and engage in conversation, and only when this personal relationship is established can the supply of goods proceed. People first, things second: a salutary reminder of a world we have lost and why our materialistic values can be so greatly resented.
Fez is a survivor from that world of traditional values. Its specialization in skilled craftwork has enabled it to survive as a living anachronism. Accorded Unesco World Heritage status, it is trying to survive massive overcrowding as drought drives a desperate rural population out of the countryside and into the city. It is a place that has so much to teach us about our past, present and future condition, that we can only hope that it survives.
