Seven Saints Way (I)

Marrakesh, besides being a hotspot for tourism, is also (and more importantly) the grave-sites of many Muslim saints. As the morning sun rose blisteringly hot above us, we decided to try to visit some of them and pay our respects. We had no firm plans as to who to visit first, but its a family tradition that our best laid plans are spontaneous.

My father waved down a carriage, told the driver our goals, and we piled in, delighted. The first maqam (mausoleum) we arrived at was Qadi Iyad's, one of the most famous scholars of muslim law and author of a wide variety of texts. Read more about him here.

On our way we clattered through streets crowded with wares and foot- and animal-traffic, the walls of buildings often close enough to touch as we squeezed by, donkey brays and hawkers and dogs barking and the clip-clopping of myriad of hooves crowding the air, so that we were pressed on all sides. 

Entering the maqam by passing behind a wood door and high walls was like entering a bubble of peace and quiet. All the sounds of the throughways around us were distant mumbles. The courtyard stretched before us, ringed by shadows but blazing at its center. Across the distance of light was a building with green, pyramid-shaped domes, indicating the final resting places of the saints and their attendants and companions.

A baby bird fell with a flutter from its hidden nest just as we approached the main arch. When I bent to check on the poor thing, various boys emerged out of various doorways--the caretaker assistants and some wandering visitors. With hand motions and rattling Arabic I could barely understand, they promised they would take care of it.

When I looked back, the cool cavern of the room of the grave waiting for me, they had gently picked up the bird and were hurrying into the shadows where it would be able to recuperate...