Monday, June 25, 2012

XVIII - The Boy in the Medina - Part 1

















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

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