Lost in Marrakesh

Hi, I possess the talent to find adventures anywhere in the world. I spent the night on the island in Thailand without a meal and money, I fucked by Paul Barcelona with 5 Jersies in his pocket, ran into Morocco from the gangsters and much more.

After increasing in the slave-in which we, by the way, did not take risks to drive and day in a warm clean hotel with cold and hot water, I felt a happiest person. Never have hot and cold water and security gave me so much joy.

Jamal left to repair the car and recognize from his relatives who lived in the village under Marrakem, can we live. For one first day in Morocco on paid roads and bribes, we spent almost a quarter budget. And in Morocco we had to be more than a week, and what amount we need, given the fact that all inexpensive hotels were busy, the car is broken, and the police constantly slowed down, demanding money, it was generally incomprehensible. In general, the financial question at that time was bothered.. Housing due to the first one. Therefore, go to live in the marocan village was the only option.

I went alone for a walk on marrakech. Jasmine flatly refused to leave the room because Jamal banned-dangerous. And I like a naughty woman, armed with a camera and throwing money so far that not to get the most, after all, went to the street. Compared to Marrakesh, Pattaya would seem to me. Fresh and fragrant. I went to the square of Jema-El Fna, Marrakesh, from the hotel 10 minutes. It was the first walk through the Morocco previous days were entirely carried out in the car. Only on the second day in Morocco-even rather the evening, I finally could feel where I.
The smell of smoke, a huge number of sounds, a huge number of people, all black, tourism here and did not smell. But smelled by unwashed tricks, spices, tobacco, garbage, jerking and not yet.. Wearing a handker in Morocco on the street was due not only to security and less attracting attention, but also the protection against numerous smells that twisted in the air. On that day, it was not yet known how much time the next opportunity to enjoy the normal human shower will appear, and the prospect of the fact that my clothes and head will miss the fearlessness.

Jema El Fna. Home Square Ancient Marrakesh. This place has another name – "Square of severed heads". I learned about this already in St. Petersburg. In the Middle Ages, the cruel executions of criminals were held there. Robbers were taken to the center of the square and built in a row, then they laid the stomach to the ground, and under the neck were put on wooden bars. So they spent up to several days. After that, the executioner pierced her eyes fried on the sun, after a couple of weeks of torment, criminals cut off heads.

Word "Jema" From Arabic means "Cathedral mosque", A Word "FNA" – "Death" or "The place where death reigns". Now the area is similar to the St. Petersburg aprash for the reason. Snake spellcasters, fortune-tales, street artists, beggars, Henna Drafts, Musicians. It is worth lingering from them at least a few seconds and they immediately fly, demanding money. And grab your hands. So I went like a marocanka-quickly, carefully, constantly looking around and checking whether any local homeless bum was woven, already stretching the dirty unwashed hands to twitch me for clothes. Defined rare atmosphere in all this. -Yes, there is, but I doubt that there are people who are ready to go for her to Marrakech again. Architecture. – I am spoiled by Peter, Spain and Tallinn. Those marocan motives in architecture that in films seemed to me beautiful, here seemed to me . Yes, unusual, unusual, but. So dressed in garbage that beauty is not particularly visible. But: I noted the mountain. Huge, distant, fascinating covered with snow. I aimed at them and thought from all over Dari: if I see them close-close. Then these tests and hassle somehow pay off. And the universe remembered me this thought in a few days.

It became darker, remembering about the nightly chaffining in the Rabat and the Markan traps I went towards the hotel. And the hotel, of course, did not find. I knew for sure that he was somewhere near, but exactly forgot. Tried to appeal to the marocan women to show the hotel’s business card, find out the way, but they didn’t go to contact.
It’s you, marina, not spain, here gestures and facial expressions do not strongly help.
To men I was afraid myself. After half an hour, the wanders I cut down that it became more actively. Caught among the passers-by a cute French couple – they helped me and helped me. God for them to health and everything. To help me find a hotel, they called several of their friends and even asked them to search for its exact location on the Internet.

And on the other day we all collapsed. And fought. Nerves still did not haveained. According to the result: IT I have left alone in the center of Marrakesh with all my money and documents, with a camera, and also with a ticket to the ferry, who handed me Jasmine, fueling, so that I sob myself Get to the tanier and how I live a week in an unfamiliar country with an unfamiliar language) All my baggage remained in the car of my friends, and the car stood somewhere in the center, not far from the very main square. I just remembered that she is exactly somewhere close, but where exactly did not know. Around the area of ​​these small, missing spices, garbage and food, the streets were many. And most importantly, I stayed without a phone and tablet!-T.E. Without any connection with the world, the tablet was in the car trunk, and the phone took Jamal. Honestly, I did not even worried. All my experienced abilities have already exhausted their limit for the first Marroc Day. There was no strength to worry, so I just went on the marriage where the eyes look and lead legs.

I was still admired from afar at grades, and still dreamed of them. it’s like a ray of the sun in the dark kingdom.. Something big, pure, majestic, among, chasing and poverty Marrakesh.

Streets of Marrakesh Red-red, ragged with rags, smelling with all fragrant and disgusting smells at once, are full of souvenir shops, clothes, slippers, pots, mirrors, souvenirs. But, as strange, some household items were much more difficult to find. In general, all the marocan journey I hunted behind the toilet paper and wet napkins – it turned out to be a huge deficit. I didn’t immediately understand why little kids stick to passersby on the streets, offering to buy a pack of handkerchiefs, then understood. Hygiene products in Marrakesh were very difficult to get. ) It was generally funny with toilet paper: she was so rare that finding it in the restroom cafe and "restaurants", I pulled the whole roll with the root)

Lost in Marrakesh

I didn’t go for a long time on Marrakech: at that moment, when I found the car of my friends, me "Chanck" Two people called themselves local guides. They even showed me some business cards to be convincing. Not what I would have believed to them, but one of them spoke well in German and English, and this meant that I can talk with someone here. They sat on me in the nearest cafe, I did not miss the car out of sight, I didn’t leave the glass with juice, suddenly. But they behaved peacefully, one of them began to say that he had familiar not only in Marrakesh, but in Malaga, so he will help me if you get to the house. Worked hard, but I said that I will accept help, if in the evening my friends are not found. One of them spent me to the nearest small park with orange trees, I also tried to sell a tourist excursion – maybe the truth guide? And then I ran away from him to walk on Marrakech.

In the evening we were found. It turned out that in the parking lot where the car was standing, there was a secret police agent, in Morocco it is so called) He saw how I talked with strangers and told my friends that no guide, and that, of course, I would stole me.

And then we went to the village to the parents of Jamal, and now it began.
She was a bride, and I was a doctor. Muslim has no concepts "my girlfriend" , "we are dating" etc. There is a bride, or a foreign woman. All) because there are no name for foreign women to live in the house, it turned out that Jasmine had to be a bride. Although accurate information about what Jamal said to his relatives so that we live with them, we do not know Jasmine. Communication with me was generally a constant spoiled phone: I say Jasmine in Russian, she Jamalu in Spanish, and he is already all the rest of the Arabic.

We met warmly, however, how to behave with these people was completely incomprehensible, in no language, in except for Arabic, they did not speak. The walls in the Moroccan house were clay, completely naked, gray, and on the floor carpets and pillows (as I understood it, on them and sleep, and sit. universally) in the house several small rooms. We began to gradually endure tea, bread and national marocan dishes. All the meal was silently, only sometimes Jasmine and Jasmine shook about how to behave. Immediately she told me about my upcoming mission: it turns out to be Brother Jamal’s wife waiting for me to me. cured her skin! In St. Petersburg I work a makeup artist (I make makeup on shooting, events. ), and Jamal equated mentally to the cosmetologist and there, and there the face is what the difference) and already told his relative that I can help her get rid of skin problems. So how to communicate directly with her, without knowing Arabic, I could not, another option how to give her a simple moisturizing cream with words "He treats everything" I did not have. Over the next few days, we have never been surprised how they did not fall off the faces: the suppressed acute food, the lack of pure water and at least some soap.

After dinner, I asked the marrocans to show where you can wash and clean your teeth, having previously gained all my cleansing jars, pasta, towel and toothbrush, but when I spent me on the clay corridors, where I had to do it, I’m a little did not break away. I was held in the toilet: the room is a meter to half with a hole in the floor and a crane somewhere at the level of ankle-greasy gripped, it is not clear how to make hands clean-wash them with water from this crane or just do not touch it. They seemed to have no shower.

Now about how we slept: we slept on the floor, on the plaids folded on each other. The picture is attached. Behind the wall stood a cow. The smell was appropriate.

Lost in Marrakesh

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