After four days and nights immersed in a medina in Marrakesh, I’ve concluded that the people who inhabit it are extraordinarily kind and patient, especially to an old woman with a cane. Young men have been known to bring their motorcycles to a screeching halt in front of me or carry over a stool for me to sit on when taking a break from our wandering. Always polite and with a kind smile. Their mothers would be proud. It’s interesting how we human beings organize ourselves into a community, even when we’re very poor and crowded together. Or, I guess, especially then. Each morning, the men open up their stalls, small spaces full of all manner of things. The cobblestone alley has been cleaned up of any garbage, and they have sprinkled water on the stones to tamp down the dust. They spend the next twelve hours or so hawking their wares and talking with their neighbours, or watching a soccer match on their cellphones. Our experience has been that they are rarely aggressive. When they see we...
Travel stories by Christy Green