Within moments of making eye contact with this unknown person we were instantly greeted and presented with numerous ideas for things to see in Tangier since we were obviously new to the city.
"What do you want to see?"
We had no idea. It was still only nine in the morning and we were not ready to answer such questions.
"Come with me and I can show you some really authentic places. Where are you from?"
The conversation was very one sided and we quickly started increasing our stride to lose the fellow through the fray of departing boat passengers. We had just shunned our first of what would be many people attempting to forcibly sell us things we didn't necessarily have an interest in buying.
Within seconds of shedding one person we were greeted by Sharif. Donning a dusty brown leather jacket and a seemingly well practiced sincerity he offered us taxi transport to our hostel, The Melting Pot. We had not a clue as to where it was located, the historic neighborhood of Medina. Seeing that we didn't know how the exit the port and that Sharif's immediate presence was temporarily keeping scores of other watching salesman from offering us things we decided to follow him.
An unmarked tan taxi was sitting a few meters away and upon slamming the doors we held our breathes hoping that this was a wise decision.
"Where are you from? Oh San Francisco, I love that city! Welcome to Tangier......"
After following Sharif out of the taxi and through a handful of winding corridors, seemingly tight alleys, and wading through groups of onlooking locals in addition to random men trying to get our attention with Hola, Bonjour or Hello we finally reached The Melting Pot hostel.
"I will take you to some real authentic places, try cous cous, go to the kasbah.."
Sharif offered to take us to all of these places but after checking in to the hostel, unpacking our light luggage, collecting ourselves and then collecting a map, we tipped him for his initial services and left him at the front door of the hostel.
Within an hour of being in Africa we had successfully been rude to two people. It only took us this long to understand that not only was it important to be this way to people offering you things within the city, it was absolutely necessary. Once you open up even for a second to someone looking to get your attention this is when you have an unwanted salesman following you for as far as a few blocks trying to make you buy something.
This goes against my normal principles as a human being but this wasn't home, nor was it Spain. The rules had changed the moment we left the European operated water ferry.
This was the worst yet also the only negative aspect of Tangier.
The city sits along the Straight of Gibraltar where the Atlantic Ocean and Mediterranean Sea combine into one another. The United States also opened it's first ever consulate in Tangier back when George Washington was still alive. Despite being a Muslim city, there exists great influences from former conquerors like Portugal, Italy, Spain, and France, creating a fairly diverse atmosphere. Walking through shoulder tight alleys within the maze of Medina, up through the bustling market places of the Kasbah, we were greeted with sights, smells, and tastes that had been previously unknown. Glancing through an open door you might be able to notice a seamster patching together a new suit, a person receiving a classic style shave, or possibly smell the fresh aroma of delicious Moroccan flatbread being pressed into shape.
Despite the affordability of nearly everything it is a custom in Morocco to negotiate the prices of practically every good you see. After two attempts Sharon and I were able to find some really beautiful mementos in the form of earrings from an elderly man in his large gift shop that was four stories tall. After getting a tour of the property, seeing his rooftop terrace, then turning down an invitation for tea, we haggled with the gentleman for about ten minutes before leaving with the items.
Along each corner it was fairly common to see lines of tables with mostly men taking in the flavors of café-au-laits (coffee with milk) or mint infused green teas. By coincidence we stumbled upon a restaurant nestled between scores of soccer stores and tried some delicious Moroccan soup and came back a second time to try tagine which is like a stew but with less broth. Overall in Tangier we really enjoyed their flatbreads, green teas, sufficiently strong coffees, and savory cous cous. Everything was well priced and the portions were very generous.
This was the first time I had ever set foot in a Muslim nation and seeing a contrast in culture was surprisingly enjoying. Despite being a visibly male dominated culture we did see women dressed sometimes in formal attire with hijabs (face covering veils) but also others dressed in similar trendy fashions found in the United States or Europe. We did see massive groups of people praying at certain hours of the day and there would be moments when we thought an evacuation alarm was going off in the city but instead it was simply the voice of prayer echoing from loudspeakers that were attached to the towers of mosques. This was all very different, but to see it in a native setting gave a sense of calming security.
Between colorful archways, beautiful yet minimalists style mosques, silent corner streets where stray cats outnumber people, and a chaotic yet harmonic atmosphere, the city is one that is very much worth visiting. Not once did we feel ever in danger and the locals when not trying to make you buy something are quite warm towards strangers. People in Tangier speak as many as five or six languages so it is fun to greet someone in Spanish then say goodbye in broken French.
On our second and final day in the city we used seven different forms of transport to see the peaceful white walled old town of Asilah which once was and still is a haven for artists. Staring at Atlantic ocean swells it is easy to feel transported into a different place while walking in silence along perfectly clean pedestrian avenues. After hailing a motorcycle that boasted an animal carriage we made it back to our hostel in time to pick up our belongings and this time walk to the port where a ferry to Europe waited.
By the time we were sitting within the soft cushioned seats of the FRS ferry, waiting to depart back to Tarifa in Spain, I felt ready to leave Tangier. Sharon and I managed to see most of what it had to offer and we were about to sail back to our place of origin feeling satisfied.
From Friday until Sunday we had stayed in Morocco for forty-eight hours, about three thousand minutes. The sample of the culture we tasted in Morocco has lasted significantly longer than our weekend stay, roughly thousands of years.
I feel certain in saying that almost everything we experienced was something new and for me something that still I don't quite understand. I don't know why things smelled the way they did, why people spoke in the manner they spoke, why the colors were one way and not another, or simply why the shadows of grass changed directions the way it did.
Looking outside I can see a disturbance in the branches of a partially visible tree. A breeze is picking up. There are moments in life where the best decision to make is to stop and listen to the direction of the wind. The gust I'm witnessing as it sends invisible shakes is heading south..
...towards Africa.
-Daniel Anetac (Catena)
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