In an effort to keep up readership of my blog, I have been thinking for days on what to write about. I’m trying not to fall into my old habit of write-every-month, but I realized that my general insight comes from something interesting that happens, which then inspires me to write about it. Granted, little things happen all the time, but blog-style interactions are fewer and farther between. However, today, when I was trying to alleviate my new pumpkin seed fix, I realized that merely shopping in Morocco is a bit of an ordeal. Actually, that’s a lie, it takes the stars aligning, a heart felt rain dance, and an act of God to get what you’re looking for sometimes, and that’s if you’re lucky.
Now, I am not referring to the type of shopping that a lot of foreigners in this country do. There are numerous western style stores that sell everything you could need. Comptoir sells appliances and electronics, Marjane is a regular Super Wal-Mart, Acima is a Kroger-type grocery store, and Kitea is a regular Ikea knock-0ff. So, if you want to spend your time in the Ville Nouvelle hopping from cab to cab, then it is quite easy to find what you’re looking for in this country. I, however, continusouly choose what seems to be the ‘harder’ way of doing things.
I have this theory that every Moroccan is hard wired valuable information upon their birth. This information, sometimes inaccessible to foreigners, includes how to tell a good tajine from a bad one and where the gypsy buses stop. Whenever I ask my Moroccan friends to describe where they get this wealth of knowledge, they always shrug and say, ‘Well, isn’t it obvious?’ This answer just frustrated me because I hated going to Acima or Marjane to get my necessities, but no one could seem to tell me where all the Moroccans shopped.
Then, finally, one day, I just shut-up and watched.
In the Fez Medina and my Moroccan neighborhood in Marrakesh, the fruit and vegetable market is fairly obvious. It’s hard to miss the crates of tomatoes and the carts of banans as you’re walking down the street. This was my first foray into Moroccan shopping. You see, unlike most of us Westerner’s with too little time, ‘one-stop shopping’ is a fairly foreign concept to most of the Moroccans I know. Each type of necessity warrents its own store. Therefore, I have a fruit guy. A couple carts down from him is my vegetable guy. They loved that I speak Arabic, and they’re always patient while I try to learn the names of my usual purchases. Down a few doors them is my non-parishables guy, otherwise known as a Hanout. In old parts of the (American) South, I’ve actually seen these stores still in existence, but by-in-large, Kroger has replaced the traditional grocer in Atlanta. At my Hanout, I buy all packaged goods as well as flour, grains, sugar, honey, spices by the kilo or the gram. Some of the newer Hanouts even have refigerators so that I can buy fresh milk, cold water, and various Coca Cola products.
After I finally found my Hanout and my fruit and vegetable guys, I had to learn where to buy everything else. Let me emphasize that every type of good has its own store so plastic house hold items (such as dish racks) aren’t sold at the same store as electronic items (such as ovens or blenders). Red meat butchers do not sell chicken, and dried fruit is also sold in a special store. Snacks are sold at different places then all of these, which was my newest revelation when I went on a search for roasted pumpkin seeds.
It’s funny because I look back to a few months ago, and I was constantly asking, ‘Wait, so where I do buy this’ and ‘where do I buy that.’ It took a while for me to realize that I just had to look around. I am so used to big signs and one-stop-shopping that it never occured to me that the small store right in front of my eyes could have exactly what I need. I was so caught up in downloading this hard-wired information that I rarely opened my eyes. That is what I love about Morocco. This is what I hope to take away from this year. There is such an importance placed on pausing and paying attention. Information is right in front of you if you’re willing to step outside of your normal bubble and just see it.
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What’s funny is that it actually isn’t that hard outside of Fez and Marrakesh, both massively touristy cities. When I lived in Meknes, Marjane was a 35dh taxi ride away, so I had no choice but to do the majority of my shopping “the Moroccan way” – and it was easy. All along the main streets near my house were local butchers (who sold all kinds of meat in the same place), a vegetable store, tons of hanouts, etc.
The worst part was buying Moroccan-made furniture though…cheap and high quality as it is, you really have to search far and wide! And forget about a mattress – the one time I set foot in Kitea was when I realized a “Moroccan mattress” was a giant sac stuffed with crap.