Feelings on Fez, Part 1
- Lily Wangler
- Apr 26, 2016
- 3 min read
Well, I've had some serious misadventures now, friends. I spent three nights in Fez and it was a busy, action-packed time. Starting today and ending Sunday, I will have one post per day about my time in Fez. The first and final entries will be reflections upon the impression Fez left upon me. The middle four posts will contain summaries of each of the four days I spent in Fez.
There are two sides to Fez, Morocco: Fez is bisected by a river, and Fez is two-faced. For this reason, my impressions of Fez will be discussed in two separate posts.
Today is my first day back in Barcelona. My second history class has begun and it moves more quickly than the last, despite the professor claiming an extra fifteen minutes of my day. I was happy to be back, but I knew I'd miss Fez. I had enjoyed Fez's heat and prioritization of pedestrians with its passages too narrow for vehicles. As I walked to class today, I noticed that Fez had completely changed the way I saw Barcelona. Sure, the cars and buildings might be smaller than those back home, but they were clownishly oversized compared to those in Morocco. The colors that felt overstimulating three weeks ago seem muted. The ruins and artifacts decorating the city streets seem young in comparison to those of Fez. The streets that felt so bustling seem hushed. Barcelona feels like a sprawling, quiet, adolescent metropolis.
Moreover, Barcelona feels familiar. I can easily find my way wherever I need to be and even with my clumsy Spanish, I know I'll be able to ask directions or order something without too much trouble. Fez may be only 1010 kilometers from Barcelona, but it felt more like I'd traveled back in time more than 1010 years. Fez is an older land, more tied to its past. It felt a bit like the idyllic past the west always seem to be chasing. Donkeys knock over shop displays as they calmly mosey down narrow passages. Argan kernels for oil production are still crushed by hand. Tour guides brag about Fez housing the world's oldest university. The founding of the city is talked about as if it happened just yesterday, even as the founding year of 789 is spoken in the same breath. They speak of the past without distancing themselves from it or criticizing it. Their history is their pride.
Fez is stunning. A day in the medina proves Fez's builders to have been thoughtful, intelligent, and pious. Every detail has a purpose. Each tile of the mosaic lining the walls of Université Al Quaraouiyine is religiously symbolic. Cedar lining the outer walls of mosques guide the blind to the mosques' doors. Doors are fitted with two different knockers so residents can predict the gender of their visitors. Hinges are designed communicate the resident's the city of origin to passerbys. Colors of tiles, roofs, and walls all have meaning. Absolutely nothing is unintentional.
Fez is impressive. Traveling here from Barcelona, you trade Roman ruins and nationalism for maze-like routes too narrow to be called streets, but too established to be called paths. Mountains, green and yellow fields, and striking colors surround you wherever you go. They can grow fields of bright yellow rapeseed and raise sheep and design beautiful leather products all within a few square kilometers.
Fez is welcoming. You're greeted with "Big welcome!" everywhere you go. The people speak many languages and want to communicate with you in any way you can manage. Americans need not have fear as the reaction to nationality is always welcomed with, "Wow, what an excellent country! A great place! Great people! My sister/cousin/friend is in Colorado/Houston/New York!" Sure, there's usually an agenda to this smalltalk ("By the way, I sell hats/wallets/blankets/scarves! You just look, no buy. See? Touch! Feel the quality! You want to buy?"), but there are no hard feelings if you turn them down ("No problem! We are all brothers! Just one more thing. You like these colors better?"). You might even have someone ask amiably, "May I have your WhatsApp or Facebook? You are so sweet," and reply to your gentle rejection with, "Okay, no problem. I am here if you need anything at all while in Fez."
Fez is beautiful. Its people are happy to have you in their country. Its tightly winding routes lead you into another time and will change the way you see your everyday. It's worth a visit, and 3 nights was the right amount of time to spend in Fez. I am so lucky to have had the chance to go.
Morocco made a very lasting impression on me and deserves multiple posts to itself. Tune in tomorrow to hear about the fairly dramatic misadventures I survived on Friday.
Until next time!
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