The word medina is commonly used to designate the old part of a northern African city, in opposition to the newer part of the city, which usually displays a more modern architecture. The medina is the heart of Maghreb city. It is the northern-African equivalent to the historical centres of traditional European cities such as Rome, Paris or Prague.
Walking around the streets of the medina, Leonardo truly felt as if he had
entered another world, leaving the world he used to know at the entrance gate.
He relished happily in the new smells, sounds and images, immersing himself
into a way of living that he had never experienced before.
Almost as soon as he set foot inside
the medina, a legion of young boys
surrounded him. Instead of attending school like their counterparts in Europe, they
spent their days trying to earn a few dirhams as improvised tour guides.
‘I show you medina - very, very beautiful. You come with me, I show you
everything nice, you come.’
It didn’t matter that Leonardo didn’t
need or wanted a tour guide - the infant tour-guides needed customers. To
decline their offer three or four times wasn’t enough, for they would just keep
insisting indefinitely. After all, he was a tourist, so he was supposed to get
a guided-tour, just as they were supposed to be given a generous tip at the end
of it. That was how things worked; there wasn’t much point in trying to change
the status quo.
So, even if that hadn’t been his
original intention, Leonardo resigned himself to the prospect of exploring the medina in the company of his very first
real Moroccan acquaintance: his personal guide, 11 year-old Rashid.
Rashid was very much like many Moroccan
kids of his age. Although he had gone to school long enough in order to learn
to read and write, a few years had already passed since he stopped attending
classes. His family lived in the medina,
crowded in a small house and desperate for all the extra-income they could
possibly get. His mother did not work since her place was at home, taking care
of Rashid’s younger brother, Waleed, and his two sisters, Jasmine and Lassa, who
hardly ever left the house and had never set foot in a school. His father
worked in a French-owned factory in the outskirts of Tangiers, but his meagre
salary was hardly enough to support the whole family. Rashid didn’t have much of a choice but to
help his family by earning a few dirhams as an improvised tour-guide of the
place he knew best in the whole world: Tangier’s medina.
During the course of his stay in
Tangiers, Leonardo grew increasingly fond of Rashid. He admired his tenacity
and precocious nature. Rashid was a young boy who matured long before he should
ever have had to, but he never complained about it. Instead, he accepted things
as they were, and was happy to help his family in any way he could.
Once every two days or so Leonardo
felt the need to wander through the mystical streets of the medina, still mostly untouched by
western customs. The ritual was always
the same: shortly after walking across the oval-shaped gate, a swarm of
boy-tour-guides swarmed around Leonardo, unwilling to let him go until he
acquiesced to one lucky child’s services. Rashid was sure to be amongst them,
and he was always the chosen one after Leonardo gave up on trying to escape
them.
‘Okay Rashid, will you show me
around? It’s not like I’ve ever been here before or anything…’
Rashid would then always smile
and take him for almost the exact same tour of two or three days before that.
In spite of the repetitive nature of
this ritual, Leonardo seemed to mind less and less having to hire a tour-guide
that he didn’t really need. The truth was that he was beginning to enjoy Rashid’s
company, and after some time the boy became the main reason why he went back
again and again to the medina.
From his side, Rashid also started
to grow somewhat affectionate towards Leonardo. It wasn’t just because he was
his best client… it was something else as well, although the boy couldn’t quite
put his finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that Leonardo was quite nice to
him, nicer than most tourists. Or maybe it was because of their age difference;
Leonardo could well be his older brother and he was someone to look up to. Yet,
for the most part, it was probably because he had never met anyone quite like
Leonardo before. He didn’t seem to be
very interested in the same things most tourists were interested in. They came
to Morocco without ever really leaving their home countries. It was if they
travelled inside a bubble that separated them and their world from the new
country they were visiting. They weren’t interested in becoming a part of the
place they were now experiencing, nor were they willing to truly emerge
themselves in a culture that was completely alien to most of them. They came to
Morocco armed with digital cameras, sunglasses and European or American
arrogance.
Leonardo, on the other hand, seemed to have forgotten his camera at
home, often looked Rashid in the eyes and so far had failed to display any sort
of arrogant behaviour. In fact, most of the time he seemed to be more
interested in what Rashid had to say about himself and his family than in
visiting famous old buildings, walking around to the endless tourist
attractions, or buying cheap, plastic souvenirs to be admired once and then
casually discarded. Leonardo may well have been the weirdest tourist that
Rashid had ever met during his entire career as an improvised guide.
‘Leonardo, why do you come to Morocco?’
‘I dunno, I guess I wanted to know what
it looked like in real-life.’
‘So now you know what it look like,
why you stay in Morocco? Many tourist come here to the Medina one time, but they never come back. I know because I see everyone
that come to the Medina. But you, you
come back many time. Why? Why no go to Marrakesh, Fes, Casablanca, like other
tourist? And why you come here and no take picture?’
‘ Why should I take pictures when I
can look at things with my own eyes? If I wanted to look at pictures of
Tangiers I would have stayed in Europe. The reason why I keep coming back here
is because I like it here, and I like talking to you as well. I’m sure all
those other cities are very nice, but I’m more interested in people than in
sight-seeing.’
‘You are very strange Leonardo, but
I like you. Maybe I like you because you are strange.’
‘Thanks Rashid, you’re a very nice boy. I’m glad you’re such a pain in
the ass and you’ve insisted so much to show me this place around… 100 times.
It’s nice to have some company and to meet interesting people while
travelling.’
‘You travel much? You see more
countries than this one and your country?’
‘Yes, I have travelled a lot. But I
would like to see some more countries still. I very much enjoy travelling.’
‘I like to travel one day, too. I
never leave Tangiers. Not one time. I
want to see the world. I think is very big.’
‘It is big, very big. And I’m sure
you’ll get to travel a lot one day, Rashid,’ lied Leonardo. He knew it was
quite unlikely that the boy would ever get the chance, but he really hoped he
would.
The Traveller is listening to:
More Arabic Music
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4fcI-g1nUE&feature=related
love it, love
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