Forgotten in time

The old medina in Marrakech feels like a city forgotten in time. I know that because much of the income is tourist income, there’s much advantage to keeping things the way they were. It was fascinating seeing the two typewriters sitting in a little stall, waiting for someone to come in and say that they needed something typed out. The last time I remember using a typewriter, I was 4 in my mother’s office.

I guess carts pulled by donkeys make sense because the roads are too narrow for goods vehicles. The one modern innovation that Moroccans seem to not be able to do without is the motorcycle. Come evening when all the stalls close of the day and everyone’s rushing to go home, motorcycles travel uni-directionally in every available alleyway; because we were lost and doubling back quite a bit, walking against the flow of traffic was hideously scary. Hell, I think walking with motorbikes whizzing past you endlessly is scary. Where were the slow moving donkeys then?