Ramadāna laikā Fēsā, ko dēvē par Marokas garīgo galvaspilsētu

Iesaku berberu Maroku, aiz Atlasa.

Visās malās, visās zemēs viss atkarīgs no cilvēkiem. Man mati ceļas stāvus no šausmām, iedomājot, ka man vajadzētu ceļot kopā ar Agnesi Krivadi. Ne jau viņas dzejas vai slaveno 100 g dēļ, bet Vācijas dienasgrāmatu iespaidā. No viņas dveš tik dīvains proletāriskas brāļošanās un lipīguma gars, ka nedod Die's... Marokā vai Antaktīdā. Vai Latvijā.

Tas kā nu kurā vietā. Un visi gidi nav vienādi ne Marokā, ne Indijā. P.S. Es pati neesmu nekad bijusi ne Marokā, ne Indijā, bet tāpat visu labi zinu.

Marokā tomēr "gidi" ir agresīvāki kā Indijā

Nupat biju nedēļu ilgā ceļojumā pa Marakešu, Fesu, Meknesu, Rabātu, Kasablanku (ar grupu, bet ne no Latvijas). Varu tikai un vienīgi ieteikt braukt ar organizēto grupu pa šo valsti. Mums bija vietējais gids arābs, neviens mums nesējās klāt un arī nelamāja, daudz ko skaistu redzējām. Pastaigājām arī pa Marakešas tirdziņiem vienas pašas bez gida, neko negatīvu nepieredzējām. Vienīgais, Kasablanka man nepatika, vietējo vīriešu attieksme bija savdabīga pat uz galvenās ielas (bijām ģērbušās korekti arī pēc viņu standartiem). Kasablanka vispār ļoti netīra un netūristiska.

Ir kāda interesanta nianse, atklāju ceļojuma beigās! Kad nosaucu Latviju, franciski "Letonī", visi saka - jā "Lituanī"(Lietuva). Ar putām uz lūpām skaidroju katru reizi, ka tā nav īstā. Tad vienam vīriņam prasīju, kāpēc visi zin Lietuvu? Viņš izvilka futbola totalizatora kartiņu - no futbola. Saku, ka lietuviešiem nav tik stipra komanda, kā mums... Tad arī noskaidrojām, ka arābiski Latvija esot "Letuanī"

kapēc tiek aprunāta Tunisija? man tunisieši ļoti patika! krievenes gan viņi apsaukāja:) kāpēc Ēģiptē nevar teikt, ka esi no Latvijas? Es visur saku, ka esmu no Latvijas, Ēģiptē nekas nav jāpaskaidro un attieksme mainās uz pozitīvu, citur, kur ir jāpaskaidro, cilvēki saplok, jo saprot, ka diez ko labi ģeogrāfiju nepārzin Bet īstie arābi ir diezgan.. kā lai saka, nepatīkami cilvēki, tāpēc ticu, ka marokā varēja rasties kaut kādas problēmas, tomēr tās varētu mazināt, ja cilvēks izjustu vietējo mentalitāti raksts interesanti lasāms:)

Ar interesi izlasīju šo aprakstiņu. Es arī šoruden no 8-13. sept. biju Marokā. Sajūtas līdzīgas, bet paldies vīram, ka mūsu ceļojums ietvēra arī Marakešu un Kasablanku, līdz ar to arī vairāk mirkļu bez arābu un berberu uzmācības. Marakešā bija vairākas vietiņas, kur no tās paglābties (Mažorel dārzs, baseini "baltajiem":)). Bet visumā arī man šis ceļojums saistās ar tām nepatīkamajām sajūtām, kad Tevi grib apčakarēt, uzrunā visi pēc kārtas. Bet no pieredzes zināms, ka tas sliktais aizmirstas ātrāk un tad paliek tikai labās atmiņas.Un jā, Latviju neviens tur nezina. Tu saki Latvija, viņi atkārto: Ā Lietuva! Visi kā viens.

kad biju nopircis Korānu un ar to staigāju pa medinām, neviens klāt nesējās. Un pat tad, kad Korāns bija ietīts iesaiņojumā. Dīvaini, vai ne?

Pazistamas situacijas :) Tiesa gan, ar mums ta notika Marakesha, Fesa salidzinajuma bija tira miera osta, Meknesa un Rabata vispar civilizacijas kalngals. Toties Marakesha gan gaja jautri. So pilsetu apmeklejam ka pedejo, kad skita ka jau visas gidu un tirgotaju koloritas izdaribas izbauditas un varam tikt gala ar visiem vietejiem trikiem, bet neka... Esmu celojusi pietiekami daudz, uz vietejam savdabibam reageju ar interesi un humoru, nevis paranoju un augstpratibu, ko te dazi pieraksta autoram. Tomer tas vienalga nelava izvairities no viegla nervu sabrukuma pec kadas simtas uzrunas "what you looking for? big square? big square that way! come, I show you!" Kad nu beidzot atlavos mazliet strupak atbildet, sanemu preti tiradi par to, ka esmu rasiste. Paris citas reizes pec visnotal laipna atteikuma mums tika veltitas lamas, kuras figureja f**k dazadas mazliet negaiditas variacijas. Mums vislabak iepatikas "f**k you and your family naked" To mes vel tagad sad tad lietojam, kad atceramies Maroku, vai ari kad gribas ipasi suligi izteikties. :) Kaut gan par spiti sim sikajam cucibam, Marokas brauciens palicis atmina ka viens no interesantakajiem un skaistakajiem pedeja laika celojumiem. Bet tie kas apgavo, ka raksta pieminetas problemas atgadas tikai tiem, kas neprot celot -- ar to jus acimredzot velaties paradit, cik jus esat gudri, bet visi pareji redz tadi galigi neprasas... un tas jau pats par sevi neko labu par jums neliecina.

Nevaru aizbraukt,nav naudiņas.

Esmu bijusi Fesā. Man ļoti patīk Latvija ar savu dabu un cilvēkiem, bet Fesa man patīk tāpēc, ka tur nav kā Latvijā. Ja visur būtu vienādi, tad jau nebūtu jāceļo, sēdi mājās un "basta". Marokā ir citādas tradīcijas, citāda kultūra, citāda pieredze. Ja es aizeju ciemos, es saimniekus nemācu dzīvot pa savam. Ja es aizbraucu uz svešu valsti, es necenšos visu mērīt ar Latvijas mērauklu. Un tomēr es paturu sev tiesības atteikties gan no piedāvātās zālītes, gan nevajadzīgas gidu palīdzības. Un pieklājīgu atteikumu tur saprot, nekad neviens drauds netika uz mani raidīts. Piekrītu jau izteiktam komentāram - raksts nav par Fesu, raksts ir par cilvēkiem, kuri neprot ceļot :)).

Internets dod iespēju jebkuru tekstu pārtulkot automātiski (tiesa gan - pēc tam nepieciešama korekcija). Šeit tomēr ir latviešu valodas portāls.

I left the hotel in Tangier around 8:00 am. I was going to do the 3 km hike to the train station. It was drizzling when I set out. I only got about half a km when the heavens opened. I had to get a taxi for the rest of the way. My plan to catch an early train was dashed when I got there. The next train out was not until 11:00 am. A boring two and a half hours wait at the train station. The new shiny train station is in the new part of Tangier. There was nothing around it except building sites and a McDonald's that did not open until 10:00 am. When I finally caught the train to Fes, I was surprised at how green and fertile the northern part of Morocco is. It probably explains the richness of their cuisine. Five hours later I arrived in Fes. It was raining again so I took a taxi to the Youth Hostel. I asked three taxi drivers to take me there but none of them could understand my map. The forth looked confused but he took me any how. At every traffic lights he would ask the next taxi if they knew where it was but nobody knew. I tried to direct him with the map. He started stopping the Taxi and running over to people asking them where it was. This could have been a ploy to make a short trip longer but when we finally found the hostel it still cost less than two dollars. The Hostel in Fes is small and modern and decorated in a Moroccan style. They do large and cheap meals at night time. They also offer a guided tour of the Medina. After my enjoyable tour of Tangier, I signed up for the tour in the morning. Myself and another guy ( who will be called Bob from here on ) from the hostel, meet our tour guide at the hostel gate at 10:00 am the next morning. The guide flashed a laminated photo ID at us and put it back in his pocket. I think it was supposed to be his official Guide ID but it could have been a bus pass for all we knew. We followed him down the street to catch a taxi to the Medina. When we got out at the Medina the guide said rather abruptly "Please pay the Taxi". Bob started to argue about it. He thought it should hqve be included in the cost of the tour which was 120 Moroccan Dirhams for 3 hours or 150 for the whole day. The Taxi cost less than 10 Dirhams. I gave the Taxi guy a 10 dirham coin which defused argument. The guide took us on his tour of the Medina. The Medina is a rabbit warren of busy streets. Full of unusual shops selling everything and anything. We went into one of the Mosques that westerners are allowed into. It cost 10 Dirhams, again not included in the tour price. We went into a carpet shop to learn the history of carpets and they They hope you buy some of course. Bob did not like this one bit. I accepted it as part of being a tourist and enjoyed deflecting their sales pitch. More wandering through the Medina. The guide is not the best. He has a gruff manner and we are passing interesting things and he is not telling us much. The only time he gets excited is when he takes us into a shop. We go in to a Herbalist/Perfume shop and Metal workers shop. By the time we get to the Weavers shop Bob is getting really pissed off. He has started to walk outside and smoke every time we hit a shop. The last big must see in the Medina is the famous Leather Tannery and of course you access this by going into a Leather shop and climbing up a couple flights of stairs. While we are upstairs taking pictures of the Tannery, Bob tells me that when we go down stairs we will pay the guide for the three hours and get rid of him which was fine with me. We finish taking our pictures and go down stairs. The guide starts ushering us in what we hope is the direction of the exit. It has gone slightly over the three hours an Bob is worried the guide is starting to take us on the whole day tour. We follow him because we still need to find the exit. The guide starts to do some shopping. The two of us are standing around waiting and wondering if the meter still on. Bob lights a cigarette and moves away from us. The next time myself and the guide look around Bob is missing. Both the guide and I suspect he has done a runner. To buy time I tell the guide that Bob went looking for an Internet cafe. The guide tells me that there is no Internet in the old Medina. We stand there for five minutes looking for Bob, afraid to move in case he comes back. Just as we were about to give up on him, Bob walks up behind us mumbling some excuse. Now we start moving again. We get about 20 meters from where we were when Bob stops the guide and wants to pay him for the three hours. The guide says fine but you have to pay him 20 Dirhams extra so he can get the taxi back to the hostel. The tour was Hostel-Medina-Hostel. That was the straw that broke Bobs back. A flaming row broke out. Both of them threatening to go to the tourist police. Bob starts calling him a fake Guide. That all the other guides have a big ID Card that they wear around their necks(which was true, we passed a lot of them in the Medina). The guide starts saying that he has never in his 30 years of being a guide meet anybody as rude as Bob. Bob goes from not wanting to pay for the Taxi to not wanting to pay for the whole tour. Finally Bob Storms off. I am left there with the Fuming guide. The guide knows were we live. I could imagine him arriving at the hostel late at night with a dozen cop cars and a swat team to get his money. So to calm the situation, I pay for both of us, plus the taxi fare. I told the guide I would get the money from Bob when he calmed down at the hostel. The guide took the money and then offered to give me the whole day tour for nothing extra. I declined the offer. I too wanted to get away from the guide. The guide left in a taxi. That night Bob did not turn up at the hostel until late at night. He told me that all along he suspected that the guide was a fake guide and that he stormed off to get the tourist police because they were suppose to be stamping out fake guides. I on the other hand believed that the guide was bad but official because the Youth hostel had organized it( call me naive ). Either way, Do not organise your guide via the youth hostel.

cik te daudz agresīvu marokiešu labestības sludinātāju... es gan novēroju, ka marokā tūristus uzskata par muļķiem, kuri nepelna godīgu attieksmi. jāsaka arī, ka dirhamu iekasēšanā no muļķiem marokāņi mēdz būt uzbāzīgi, pat naidīgi, ja neizdodas cerētais darījums. protams, mans apgalvojums nav kategorisks. viss ir ne balts ne melns, kā jau visur.