Day 40: Djemaa El Fna...Part 2

As we walk across the Djemaa El Fna (pronounced J'maf na) my eyes rest on a little old man who is sitting crossed legged on the ground, his only 'cushion' being a folded cardboard box. His dirty white babouches are placed by his side ready to put on  over his holey socks when he's ready to leave. He is playing some form of stringed instrument, scratching a bow along the strings to make music - not very tuneful music, but music none the less. (I later find out that the instrument is called a Rebab. It is a heart-shaped body of wood covered with a membrane made of buffalo bladder, and has just two strings that are plucked to make sound.) He is more than happy to pose for a photo or two - and we are more than happy to give him a 'gift' for the privilege. It never ceases to amaze me  that somebody will sit here for a full day just to earn a few dirhams and still be cheerful!

Five men all dressed in flowing white djellabahs and black beaded caps come into view. These are men from the Gnawa tribe, descendants of Ghana, whose music is deemed to be deeply hypnotic. They play oversized heavy cast iron castanets and large drums, the sound of which reverberate all round the Square and underpin all other music that can be heard. The men take it in turns to dance to accompany their sound, twirling around whilst crouching low to the ground, each one trying to out-do the last one with even more twirling and jumping. Meanwhile the drums and castanets get louder and louder, faster and faster, almost sending the dancers into a frenzy. Then it all slows down and the caps are passed around the crowd who have gathered, in the hope that the people watching will be generous.

Another little old man sitting on a dirty bit of carpet has seen the camera in Mart's hand, and now wants a slice of the action. We have seen this same elderly gentleman sitting in the Square for years now - every time we come he is sitting in the same place, playing the same worn-out violin as if it were a bass, twirling it around with remarkable dexterity after every few slides of the bow across the strings and singing along tunelessly in accompaniment. He knows that he is no competition for the Gnawas or the other musicians performing in the Square, but he does his best all the same in the hope that people will be kind.

There is a bell ringing loudly across the Square and a man in a colourful costume appears, offering people a drink of water. He is a traditional Water Seller. One might be forgiven for thinking that he has hired a costume just for the benefit of ripping off the tourist, but in fact Water Sellers have been frequenting the Djemma El Fna for centuries. For a dirham or two they pour water from their camel leather bags strapped across their chests into brass cups to quench the thirst of the crowds, or, as is more popular these days, they pose for photographs. However, their original duty of selling cups of water is still in demand by the locals. This first Water Seller we meet is very elaborately adorned and is keen to show off his leather bag studded with silver and gold. His hat reminds me of the a lampshade on and old style standard lamp with its dangling tassles. He is very jolly and as he grabs me for a photo with him he smiles broadly with yellow stained teeth. Instead of saying 'cheese' as he poses, the words come tumbling out 'tagine, tagine, lovely tagine...smiley smiley tagine'. We can't help but smile broadly ourselves.

Not to be outdone, lo and behold another two Water Sellers appear. Their costumes are not as lavish as the first, but probably more authentic. One has the brass cups hanging around his neck and two of them, we notice, have actually been used.

This is certainly a day out for Water Sellers. A little later as we are about to set off for home yet another Water Seller approaches us. This time, however, all he wants is for us to give him change for a Euro that he has obviously been given as a tip. We gladly give him ten dirham in exchange - and he insists we take a photo of him as a thank you for this - 'gratuit, Monsieur' he says repeatedly, ' for free, for free.' A lovely man with very distinct facial features is posing for us for free - now that's a first in Marrakech!