Saturday, June 22, 2019


The Casbah

Exotic Morocco.  Heat and odors. Sweet flowers, spices, dust, overflowing sewers, diesel fumes. A desiccating hot wind that pulls moisture from one’s eyes.  Ship whistles, shouting voices, car horns, motors, riveting engines, music.  Before and behind, hidden and in plain view.

veils and tambourines
sounds of rock and roll

"Be your guide?"  A young boy tugs at us.  "Casbah.  Guaranteed fun."  We say no and take a taxi.  "I show you," he says, waiting for us at the entrance to the Casbah.  His own taxi, perhaps?  Or a magic carpet?  We relent in the presence of such mysterious powers and cleverness. 

The Casbah! A maze of shops, stalls and living quarters, as well as a mosque or two.  Thick with people. Women weaving in doorways, helped by rheumy eyed children.  Mostly silent as they work.  

                                   weaving our way up
                                        to the top of the Casbah-
                                    this desert het

Mohammed pushes us past some shops, pulls us into others.  "Buy, buy."  Whispered conferences in the corner with the owner.  We buy a leather hassock.  "Good bargain," we are assured. 

                              our twelve -year old guide
                              pushing aside hot crowds-
                              promises of mint tea

Cooler at the top.  A plaza with an open tea room and street performers.

toothless snake charmer                                                   pauses to grin at the crowd  
 the waiting cobra

coiled in a basket,
the cobra's eyes
not quite closed

The end of our tour..

our Moroccan guide
looking cool in his long robe
hand out for a tip

Raw Nerve


pdfrench said...

I really enjoyed this piece, great story!

Adelaide said...

Thank you. I enjoyed the trip.


littlemancat said...

Traveled along with you for those brief moments ready for a glass of mint tea. Lovely.

Adelaide said...

Thank you, Mary. Glad to have you visit and comment.