Just Another Day in Paradise

The calico cat, Nala, and I lounge by the pool while I read my book

                My day today consisted of patient treatments, lounging by the pool reading my book A House in Fez, eating, and best of all shopping!  The weather was warm, almost hot in the sun, and it was the first day I had noticed a gentle breeze. My clothes that I had hung on the line 3 days ago finally were almost dry with the help of the wind. The humidity must be high enough here that it takes days for laundry to dry outside when there is not a breeze.

The draining tract turned out to be originating from
granulation tissue under a very hard scab

               The colic mare developed a new problem today. She had developed a draining tract from her right hip and the cause was unknown. Hopefully we had not caused an abscess when we trocharized the cecum several days prior. No fluid pockets could be found on ultrasound and I when I started scrubbing the hard and swollen point of the hip, I discovered the hardness was actually due to an old scab that had formed over necrotic tissue. The scabs we softened and removed revealing a 3 inch circle of necrotic tissue directly over the point of the hip. The other hip was clipped and found to have a similar but slightly smaller scab. Luckily the draining tract was not coming from within the abdomen but now the mare had two ugly looking hip bones. On rectal exam I was surprised to find the impaction had completely resolved and the mare had a full bladder. The mare responded well to the oral fluids given yesterday and did not seem to be accumulating urine in her abdomen any longer. Perhaps with the impaction resolved, tension was no longer placed on the ureters and the rupture could heal. Things are beginning to look very good for this mare and I expect her to be able to go home early next week if no further problems develop, inshallah. The word inshallah is an Arabic word meaning “God willing” and means that things will happen in their own time if it is Allah’s will. This is a very common expression that Moroccans use often.

The mare grazes in the garden behind the student villa. Her impaction has resolved and she continues to do well.

                Four times today I had to manually empty the rectum of the rectal prolapse hinney. She seems to be doing well and was allowed to graze for an hour in the evening. Tomorrow she should be able to return to normal feeding, have her purse string suture removed, and go home early next week.

                In the afternoon I went with Gigi’s son, Paris, and his friends Yesim and Sara to the Medina. Yesim is a native Fassis (person of Fez), meaning he grew up in the Medina of Fez and knows the maze of streets like the palm of his hand. Both Yesim and Sara spoke excellent English for native Moroccans and it was great to be able to carry out full conversations in English, even though they were all 6 to 9 years younger than me. Yesim is involved in many different organizations and works with American students often. He brought me to shops that his friends owned and he promised me they would give me a fair price. 'We should see' I thought as I had read about how young Moroccans tour guides will bring tourists to the shops of their friends promising good prices but in the end the tourist is pressured into buying items at prices far above their worth. I hoped that would not happen to me.

Stepping aside for a line of donkeys to pass as we
followed Yesim through the narrow alleys of the Medina.

               First we made our way through the maze of the Medina to the tanneries. Yesim brought me to his friends shop, adjacent to the leather shop I had been in last weekend, and I began looking for items I had on my list. My mother wanted one of the purses decorated with round metal pieces, but I found those purses were not purses but messenger bags or briefcases made of very thick and heavy camel leather and were not quite practical for what I thought my mother would like. Instead I searched out a slightly simpler bag with some “bling.” I eventually settled on a black shoulder bag with some tooling, stitching and a large silver engraved piece in the middle. The engraving was that of a palm tree. It was beautiful. The sales man showed me its quality by taking a flame to the leather to show me the quality of the finish and then had me smell. It smelt like leather to me but maybe that’s what he was going for. I was able to barter down the price 200 Durham from the asking price.  Next I looked at traditional slippers or babouches decorated with brads and embroidering that were priced at 150 Dirham.  I tried to explain that I had seen slippers (though plain) in the streets for sale for 25 Durham. They explained to me that the babouches in the streets are of poor quality and would just fall apart and he again took a flame to the sole of the blue babouches I liked to prove their quality. Yesim explained that 150 was a fair price and his friend could not do any better. I should have said I didn’t want them then but this bartering thing is so new to me that I just wanted it to be over. The initial asking price was already lower than what most tourists without a Moroccan friend would pay even after bartering, so I was told. I moved on to the belt. They asked 350 Durham and I told them that was much too high. Again they emphasized that the belt was made from camel hide and was very special, of high quality and 350 was a fair price. He totaled my order to 1050. I told him I still thought the price on the belt was too high so he crossed out the total and wrote 1000. I pondered for a moment and before I knew it my items were taken to the counter for me to pay. I was told when I entered that the shop accepted credit cards. When I got to the counter and went to hand him my card the cashier asked if I had cash. I said “not enough” and he asked if I had 500 cash and I could pay 500 on the credit card. That was fine I guess, since I had 800 in cash, so I paid and headed out the door, knowing I had probably well overpaid.

The next stop was a silk shop where the sales man spoke some English and showed us how the silk clothes were made in tiny room off to the side of the shop. I looked at scarves and some Jellaba, or traditional men’s clothing, for my husband to wear when we perform at the Minnesota Renaissance festival. He offered us mint tea which I had read not to accept due to the likelihood the glasses were not washed in between visitors. While the man was out ordering tea, we slipped out as I was not in love with any particular scarf and Yesim said the clothing was the old style and not what I was looking for.

Watching the men make fabrics out of silk in the Medina

Next we stopped at a large Jellaba (traditional clothing) shop where the clothing was very impressive. I explained what I wanted, a black robe with white embroidery for a man for use in the summer. The man brought me to the back room but they did not have what I wanted. I admired the beautiful women's dresses before moving on to a small shop on the street selling Jellaba, or “man dresses”, as I like to call them, similar to what I was looking for.  Most were tan, beige, or white, but there were a few black and blue dresses as well. I really wanted a black dress with white embroidery around the collar and down the front. First I was shown the silk dresses that were very nice but the asking price was 700 Durham firm, much more than I wanted to pay. I learned they were so expensive because the embroidery was done by hand. The opposite wall had embroidery made by a machine with the price of 400 Durham. After inspecting a few and repeating again and again that I wanted a black one with white embroidery, the man pulled out one with silver embroidery and I liked it even more than if it were white. In fact I loved it. I tried to hide my excitement as I inspected the fabric and embroidery and attempted to negotiate the price as I only had 300 left in my purse. After some quick arguing between Yesim and the salesman, Yesim told me that the price was firm at 400 and that they were giving me a good price for being a friend. The shop did not accept cards so I said again that I could only pay 300. Yesim offered to pay for 200 of it and I could pay him back when we left the Medina as we would pass a cash machine. I agreed and they bagged the handsome Jellaba for me.


A large store selling beautiful traditional Moroccan clothing called Jellaba

Next, Paris wanted to meet a friend at a nearby restaurant so we headed in the appropriate direction. As we weaved through the streets, Yesim remembered that I had mentioned I wanted to look at some ceramics and we stopped by a little hole in the wall shop owned by a young man that Yesim works with at the American institute. Yesim explained that this man would give me a very fair price because he is used to working with American students and he knows that if he gives me a fair price, then Yesim will continue to bring his American friends to his shop. I looked around the tiny shop and loved most of what I saw. I needed to narrow down by what was practical. The blue and white traditional ceramic dishes were beautiful but I wasn’t sure what I would do with them and worried they may not fair traveling in a suitcase well. As I looked, Paris picked out a beautiful ceramic ash tray with metal overlay and I liked the design, just not the function, so I looked at similarly made soup bowls. I loved the rich color of the blue and picked out a small and medium sized bowl with pretty metal overlay. The price was 70 Durham for the small bowl and 100 for the large. I mentioned I only had 100 Durham left and asked if he perhaps had ceramic salt and pepper shakers instead. He did not so he headed quickly over to his friends shop and brought back some glass shakers. Not quite what I was looking for so I turned my attention back to the bowls. I again said I only had 100 and he said because I was a student he’d give me 150 for both. Again I said I only had 100 but remembered I had a coin in my pocket and pulled it out. It was only a 5 Durham coin. “I only have 105 Durham!” I said again. He replied, “because you are a special friend of Yesim, I will give you both for 140.” “No, you don’t understand!” I said. “This is all I have left and I held up my 100 Durham bill and the 5 Durham coin to eye level. He nodded his head, pondered a moment then took the bowls and put them in a bag for me. He had apparently accepted my offer. I had finally bartered for a good price on something! I was excited and gladly handed over the last of my Moroccan money in exchange for the two beautiful bowls. Now I was satisfied with my shopping experience and couldn’t wait to do more.

The little hole in the wall store that I bought a couple of pretty blue bowls from

An Arabian barb stallion decorated with henna waits on the
corner with his owner. I saw this same costume for sale in the
 leather shop. When I asked how much, they said 9,000 Durham,
just over 1,000 American dollars. Ouch!

Paris had changed the plans with his friend and now they were going back to the American Fondouk to hang out on Paris’s balcony which stretched over the East wall of the clinic. I followed them up to catch a taxi and it was a short, cheap trip back to the Fondouk.  They invited me in so I quickly emptied the feces on the rectal prolapse mule before heading up to the balcony and hanging out for just over an hour.

For dinner, the Moroccan externs made a new dish, a soup made of broad beans. It was a funny conversation as they tried to explain that the soup made you warm and gassy and I taught them the word “fart.” I thought it would be funny to teach them the “magical fruit” song but I refrained. Perhaps another day.

From paradise in Morocco,

Michelle 

Another main entry into the Medina. This is called Bab Bou Jeloud, or "Blue Gate." An array of restaurants lies just behind

The fountain in the middle of the round-about where we caught our taxi back to the American Fondouk