Ah Souky-Souky Now

When I was perusing Meaghan's last sightseeing post, it occurred to me that she and her baller camera were not present for our first foray into souk shopping. Although my photography skills are infinitely inferior, I thought that I would try to give a glimpse of these unique, kinetic artesenal markets - famous for their frenetic bargaining and boisterous shopkeepers.

Since it was late on Sunday evening and we were getting hungry, the group made the collective decision to make a brisk run-through of the street to catch a glimpse of the various offerings, but not spend any time doing any actual shopping. Collectively, the group made a tacit agreement to look, but not browse. Admire, but not express too much interest. After all, we would have plenty of the time the following weekend to do all of our Moroccan shopping in the souks of Marrakesh.

Walking through a souk is a tantalizing experience for all the senses, and it's difficult to capture the vibrant energy that surges through them. This particular souk was a long narrow corridor behind a building, in which shops lined both sides of an alleyway, providing visual stimulation in all directions. Upon entering the area, I was immediately hit by the fragrant scent of juniper, which is a popular tree used for woodworking. You could hear the sounds of shopkeepers' muted radios and children playing soccer in the back alleys. What is most striking, however, is the full on visual assault of rich colors and unusual shapes. The shops maximized their cramped spaces by utilizing every piece of usable surface area (the ceilings, walls, floors, etc). Whereas some shops displayed every possible iteration of one specialty item such as slippers or wood carvings of gazelles, others were more like antique shops that arranged every sundry item in the shopkeeper's garage or attic.  There were handpainted tajines and plates with intricate designs and flourishes; piles and piles of rolled carpets and woven tapestries; whimsically curved lamps and lanterns that were reminiscent of Lewis Carroll's Wonderland; and a mix of stained glass and sequins that reflected light into the night. Incidentally, there were also some scanty belly-dancing outfits and costumes, but Rachel assured me that they were not actually authentic Moroccan.

Since it was late in the evening, some of the shops were even beginning to shut down for the night. It makes me wonder how much louder and more colorful they would be in the daytime, when the shoppers and tourists are out in full force. I'm sure Meaghan will be posting pictures from Marrakesh in a few days, but until then, here is just a brief taste: 

A gentleman on his wares, caught unawares

Lamps straight out of a Roald Dahl/Tim Burton fantasy 

Enough shoes to satisfy the most diehard Sex & the City fans