Fes, in a few words, is a sprawling, twisting labyrinth. Especially in the medina. We hired a guide to take us around, since we knew that even locals often get lost in the narrow maze-like passageways. We spent most of the day in the medina, starting with the Andalusian side and making our way over to the markets and the tanning quartier.
We went downtown on Friday afternoon to see the grand prayer at the mosque there. The streets were so crowded, the closest we could get was two blocks away from the mosque. The streets had been transformed into an extension of the mosque, with hundreds and hundreds of people laying out mats and rugs in the middle of the street itself to pray. We stood behind them and watched. It gave me chills to see the unity and faith of the people there. All across the city, thousands of men and women were praying at the same time to the same God. Of course, as soon as the prayer ended, the street went back to its previous state of commerce and chaos, but for a moment everything was quiet and still.
Friends, you have to believe me when I say that pictures would never be enough to show you how grand and tall and overall enormous this mosque is. A thousand words wouldn’t do it either. So, I didn’t really attempt to show its size; I chose instead to focus on some of the many tiny and intricate details that make Moroccan architecture (and this mosque) so special.
We rode past a bunch of microgardens, where the villagers had developed a way to cultivate herbs and some vegetables in the middle of the desert. We passed a desert oasis, complete with palm trees and fresh water. We rode all the way to the beach, which was one of the most beautiful, serene, pure, clean beaches I’ve ever seen. The sand was smooth and white, the water clear and soothing. The setting sun and the ocean mist coated everything with a soft gold halo.
Bissap: Not a dish, but a drink! It’s a strong infusion of hibiscus flowers, made by boiling water, adding dried hibiscus flowers, sealing the container and letting it chill. The Senegalese add plenty of sugar to make it sweet, and often a bit of vanilla. It tastes like the best fruit juice I’ve ever had, though it’s not from a fruit. I plan to buy several sacks of the dried flowers so that I can make some at home.
They spend much of their time memorizing the Quran. At first, they don’t really understand what they’re saying, but they learn the pronunciation and the learn to sing the verses. They keep practicing until the get it perfect, because they are taught that God’s word is perfection and should not be said imperfectly, either by mixing up the words or mispronouncing them. As time goes on, as they learn Arabic, and as they are taught the doctrine, the children begin to understand what the verses mean.