Fez: In the Labyrinth of the Medina

This story began long before my journey to Morocco. It started with a world map my parents hung over my brother’s and my bed. It was an enormous, physical map with Africa at its center, drawing me in as a five-year-old boy with its vivid colors and mysterious names. The yellow of the desert, the green patch of jungle, the rusty stretch of the Atlas Mountains—all of these painted a picture of a distant, fascinating land that promised great adventure.

Those were the days when children found joy in reading, and books were portals to other worlds. The novel In Desert and Wilderness wasn’t yet a politically incorrect school assignment, but a revelation, a window into a world I couldn’t yet touch. So, I wandered across Africa in my imagination, absorbing every word and every image, dreaming of the day I would see these places with my own eyes. Morocco—the name itself a melody—became one of those magical points on the map that I yearned to visit.

The First Steps in the Medina

When I finally held my first passport in hand over fifteen years later, I knew it was time to go. Europe was sinking into a winter slumber, and I, full of youthful energy and a hunger for discovery, set out for Morocco. Fez, the ancient city of a hundred minarets, would be my first stop. Even the flight over the Sahara was the realization of dreams I had nurtured since childhood.

Fez, with its vast medieval medina, appeared like a living museum. The streets were narrow, full of nooks and crannies that beckoned to be explored. Each step deeper into the medina seemed to take me further back in time, to an era when the world was larger and more mysterious. The Fez medina, with its intricate alleyways, became a symbol of that childhood map, where every turn held a new discovery.

Meeting the Local Gamers

On the second day, lost in the labyrinth of the medina, I stumbled upon a small square where several elderly men were playing Seega and Zamma. This encounter transported me to another dimension—a world where time flowed more slowly, and life was simple, full of rituals and traditions. For them, the game was not just entertainment but a form of communication that I quickly learned. We conversed with gestures and smiles, and I felt that I was discovering the true heart of Morocco.

When I told them I had come from Europe and was traveling alone, they looked at me with disbelief. For them, life away from family was inconceivable. I was a young European seeking something more, while they, living in simplicity, offered me lessons in life that I couldn’t find in books. In that moment, scenes from the books that had once shaped my imagination came rushing back—now they were part of my reality.

The Chaos of the Market

The market in the medina was a place where chaos and harmony coexisted in perfect balance. The clamor of vendors, the sounds of conversations, and the music created an extraordinary symphony that drew me in completely. Everything was intense—colors, scents, flavors. The spices, whose aromas filled the air, reminded me of that childhood map and dreams of distant lands.

I marveled at stalls laden with colorful fabrics, handmade leather goods, and jewelry. Each item had its own story; each vendor was a tale unto themselves. An elderly man selling spices shared stories about each of these treasures with me. His face, lined with wrinkles, was like a map of his own journeys, and as I absorbed his words, I realized how much there was still to discover.

Understanding and Acceptance

Each day spent in Fez brought new experiences and reflections. The simplicity and hospitality of the medina’s residents taught me much about life. I realized that despite cultural differences, we are all alike. We seek happiness, peace, and understanding. Their lives, filled with daily struggles, were nevertheless full of joy and harmony. As I recalled the colorful characters described by Paul Bowles in The Sheltering Sky, I understood how much travel can shape us, helping us to understand ourselves.

In the evenings, as I wandered the deserted streets, I pondered my life. Fez became a mirror in which I could see my reflection. In this exotic setting, I was rediscovering myself. The chaos of the medina, which at first overwhelmed me, now became comprehensible and beautiful in its complexity. The life I observed here was full of harmony that I had not noticed before.

Uncovering Secrets

I decided to stray from the beaten paths and explore the less-known corners of the medina. Wandering through narrow alleys, I came upon an old Quranic school that felt like a portal to another world. In its peaceful courtyards and richly decorated halls, I sensed the presence of the past, a spirituality that permeated every stone.

This silence and tranquility were a contrast to the bustle of the market, but they also completed the image of Morocco that I had carried with me since childhood. In this place, so different from the noise of the streets, I could listen more closely to myself and my thoughts. Morocco was becoming not just a place I visited but a part of my identity.

In Search of Myself

During the penultimate day of my journey, I began to realize how much this trip had changed me. Fez, with its labyrinth of alleyways, had become a metaphor for my own journey of self-discovery. Each turn, each new street revealed new aspects of my life. Encounters with the locals, conversations, shared moments—all contributed to my inner growth.

I understood that life is not just about reaching a goal but also about finding joy in the journey. Each day, each moment holds its own significance. Fez taught me that even in chaos, one can find harmony, and in simplicity—a deep wisdom.

Returning to Reality

On the last day of my journey, as I walked through the medina, I felt a mix of sadness and gratitude. Sadness that I had to leave this magical place and gratitude for everything I had experienced here. Fez would remain in my memory as the place where I rediscovered myself. As I returned to Europe, I knew that this journey was the beginning of something greater. I was ready for new challenges, for further exploration of the world and myself.

Fez, with its labyrinth of alleyways and cultural richness, became for me a symbol of the journey of life—full of uncertainty, discoveries, and inner growth. I had become not just a traveler in space but also in myself, and Morocco—the place that began with a map above my bed—had become an inseparable part of my own story.

It was a spiritual pilgrimage that allowed me to rediscover myself. Morocco, with its chaos and harmony, taught me that life is a continuous journey, full of surprises and discoveries. Every moment, every encounter has its own significance. And although I returned to everyday life, the memories of Africa will stay with me forever, reminding me of the beauty and diversity of the world and of my own, never-ending path to self-discovery.