Marrakech Night Market

Day stretched into night as the sun moved farther and farther away from the little black hatchback and the three inhabitants inside. Just before sunset, when the purple coil of sky unwound, they arrived in the outskirts of Marrakech,
Jamal pulled the car to the side of the road when he found a place to eat.
“Why don’t we wait until we get to the market?” asked Yusef.
“It’s so crowded there. It will take too long.”
Ameena and her brothers got out of the car to stretch their legs and replace the empty spots in their stomachs with food. Jamal stepped to the counter and placed an order for everyone.
“We’ll have three orders of lamb couscous and three mint tea,” said Jamal.
Ameena watched the old woman prepare their food. The old lady scooped the couscous onto each plate, topping it with roasted lamb and ladling side dishes onto each plate, too. Intricate Moroccan designs, done in henna, tattooed the top of the old lady’s hands.
The children sat at one of the low round café tables in the center of the restaurant. Their metal patio chairs were comfortable enough. The entire restaurant smelled of roast lamb and dark spices.
“The lamb is as tender as the couscous,” said Yusef.
“I really like the carrots,” added Jamal, “Do you like it, Ameena?”
Ameena nodded as she continued eating her dinner. The couscous, which was simply rolled wheat, looked and tasted like soft brown rice to Ameena. The lamb, however, was just as Yusef said. Ameena let each piece melt in her mouth. The steamed carrots and cucumbers crushed in her mouth as she pressed them between her tongue and the roof of her mouth. To Ameena, nothing beat a good lamb couscous. With each bite, she washed it down with a sip of Mint tea.
At the end of the meal, they rested themselves as they slowly finished the pitcher of Mint tea. As they got back into the hatchback, everything had changed. The desert sky was pitch black. The city beyond was lit, not only by incandescent lights, but also the bustle of people going to and from the Market.
“This is why I stopped,” said Jamal.
The last two kilometers of their trip took them as close as they could get to downtown Marrakech.
“This place is huge,” said Yusef.
“Sometimes when I come here, I think all of Morocco is here.”
“Maybe all of the world,” said Yusef.
Men wearing kaftans and women wearing hijab filled the square. There were also the European tourists in jeans and t-shirts and the Arabians and Turks in their long, flowing robes and elegant headwear. It made Ameena conscious of her decision to remove her headscarf. She pulled it back into its proper place and fastened the veil, only revealing her deep, dark eyes.
The buildings that lined the streets were varied, too. Some looked Moroccan and some looked European. Still, others looked other-worldly and modern. Gray marbled tile paved the way to the center of the square.
“Do you hear the snake charmers?” Yusef said to Ameena.
She nodded. A mass of people moved towards the hypnotizing sound of the snake charmer’s horn, which grew as they got closer and closer.
“I always love this,” said Yusef.
As they pushed through the crowd, the music stopped and the crowd applauded.
“We’re too late,” groaned Yusef.
“Keep going,” replied Jamal, “He’ll play again.”
People threw money into a basket sitting near the snake charmer’s feet. Three other covered baskets sat around the charmer. He got up and stretched. Soon, a crowd gathered around and the snake charmer knelt in front of the baskets and began playing.
“Is that a flute?” a boy asked his friend.
“It’s a Pungi,” replied Jamal, “It’s made like a gourd with three pipes.”
Two pipes stuck out of the bottom of the gourd. One pipe stuck out from the other. The snake charmer blew on the pipe at one end. He moved his fingers over the holes on the other two pipes sticking out the other end. The sound that came out wasn’t much different than a Scottish bagpipe.
“Here come the snakes,” said Jamal.
The snake charmer uncovered a basket. A snake rose from inside. It was a cobra. The corbra's shoulders flared and its head stared at the end of the Pungi. The snake charmer waved the Pungi rhythmically back and forth. The cobra waved back and forth, too. Soon, the snake charmer uncovered the second and third baskets. Three cobras swayed to the undulating Pungi.
“As long as the snake charmer moves, the cobra will not strike. All snakes want an easy target.”
The snake charmer continued swaying back and forth as the three cobras watched his every move. Slowly, he picked up the basket lids, one by one, and placed them over the cobra’s heads, carefully pushing each of them into their baskets. Afterwards, people tossed money into his change basket.
“Here, Ameena, give him some dirham.”
Jamal placed several golden coins in her open hand. Ameena took a single step towards the baskets and then tossed the coins over the cobra’s baskets and quickly stepped back toward her brothers.
“What do you think?” chuckled Yusef, “they’re going to jump out of the baskets and strike you?”
Ameena averted her gaze, looking toward the ground.
“You’re perfectly safe,” said Jamal, “the snake charmer is closest to the snakes, plus, they cannot jump. They’re like a piece of wound string. When it uncoils, the end of the string is the end.”
They continued through the market, looking at everything under the sun. That included Berber carpets. Ameena knelt in front of the couple selling the carpets. She waved her hand over the thick wool carpet. Beautiful hues of purple, blue, black and white were woven into intricate designs.
“Do you want it?” asked Jamal.
Without turning to acknowledge her brother, she nodded slowly. She loved the designs.
“That represents the original tribes of Morocco,” said the old man selling the carpet, “Every Berber used these carpets for everything. If you turn it over, the other side is plain, while this side is thick and burly. This side is for sleeping in the desert, where it gets cold at night. The other side is for daytime, when you don’t need to feel a thick layer of wool between you and the sand.”
“Well take it,” said Jamal, “In fact, we’ll take three.”
Yusef picked out the carpets and the old man rolled them and tied each bundle with a piece of twine. Yusef knotted them together, making a carpet backpack out of the bundles.
“Are we staying in the desert tonight?”
Jamal nodded. “One of my friends lives just outside of Marrakech. We’ll camp there for the night.”
They continued walking through the market. Yusef picked out a small hand whistle, fashioned to look like the snake charmer’s Pungi. It sounded nothing like the Moroccan pipes, but Yusef did not mind.
As they continued through the alleys made by the street vendors, Yusef played his whistle. The crowds were larger, but Ameena followed the sound of the whistle.
“Our mother will be upset if we spent all our money on frivolous things. We should buy food, too.”
Jamal picked out a large burlap bags full of rolled wheat, which would become couscous after it was cooked. He purchased a large bag of rice and Yusef carried in his arms. He also purchased a grocery bag full of fresh vegetables, giving it to Ameena. The three of them headed back to the car, each with a giant load of goods.
They packed the back with the vegetables, carpets, and couscous. That left the bag of rice.
“Put it in front,” said Jamal.
“Where will I sit?” asked Yusef.
“You can sit in the back with Ameena.”
“That makes no sense,” said Yusef, “the rice can sit in the back with Ameena.”
“There’s no seatbelt in the back, so let’s put it in the front seat and fasten the buckle. That way the bag won’t fall over and split open.”
“Alright,” groaned Yusef.
Yusef rode in the back seat with his little sister. Ameena peered over Jamal’s shoulder, looking down the road ahead. Only the two headlights shone along the dark stretch of road. Oncoming traffic could be seen on the distant edge of the horizon. The rest of the desert was as dark as midnight.
Jamal turned off the main road onto a deserted desert road.
“Do you know where it is?” asked Yusef.
“I think I can find it,” replied Jamal.
A flicker of campfire shone like a torch in the distance. It worked as a beacon, signaling the way for Jamal and the little black hatchback. As they neared the fire, they saw people gathered around the fire. A small tent village surrounded the campfire, too.
“I think this is it,” said Jamal.
His thoughts were confirmed as a boy approached the hatchback. It was his best friend from the University.
“Hey Khalid!” greeted Jamal.
“Hey Jamal,” replied Khalid, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
Jamal got out of the car and introduced everyone. Yusef handed the Berber rugs to everyone. They followed Khalid toward the warmth of the campfire. Everyone was eager to meet Khalid’s family.