Shopping

On June 8th, my mom and I decided to go shopping. She'd been to Fez numerous times before, and took me on her own to Fez Jadid, or, the New City. It's about a ten minute walk from Borj Fez, the lovely mall, easily found because it's beside the McDonalds. (I say the McDonalds and not a McDonalds because it's the only one in Fez).

We entered through the ancient Jewish quarter, still preserved after all this time, and walked through various shops selling modern clothing. I saw some high end brand logos like Chanel and Lacoste, but they were likely knockoffs. The alleys were narrow, crowded, noisy, and made it all the more fun to traverse, having to weave around people, carts, donkeys, and wild dogs. I was trying to look everywhere at once. 

Then, we were walking through the gold quarter, a wider cobbled street of actual brick-and-window stores, rather than shop fronts extending on to the street. It was much quieter here, and less crowded. Beyond it was our goal, the traditional area, where we would be buying gifts and some things for ourselves. Here, the sky suddenly opened up, revealing dramatic clouds. A storm was brewing...  

The traditional quarter of the souq is as colourful as a rainbow. There are jalabas and house dresses, shirt and pant suits, and harem pants and hijabs in an enormous variety of colours, styles, sizes and patterns. I wanted to buy almost everything! Beyond clothes, they also sold small ceramics like mini tajines (decorative or for small-item-storage), enamelled boxes, and jewellery, both traditionally Berber style or more modern. Here and there in nooks and crannies were little sausage shops, selling freshly grilled sausage sandwiches, with a lovely yet gently spicy kick. 

And of course, there were trolly sellers of grilled corn, snails, fruit and more sausages.

My favourite, beyond the clothing stores, where the pet shops, with an odd variety of birds, rabbits, and chipmunks.

Right around the Maghrib prayer, after intermittent ominous rumblings of thunder, the clouds began to spatter us. Needing to pray soon anyway, my mom and I headed for the mosque, just as the clouds really let loose their torrent.

It was incredible, to sit on the edge of the open courtyard as the rain poured down. It's sure to be one of my favourite memories of this trip. 

I close this post with this tidbit from my Arabic teacher: Every raindrop has an angel assigned to it, which places the drop where God has willed it to fall.