My Marrakesh

Marrakech: and a tale of small happy things

2 pairs of brand new shoes.

1 Moroccan embroidered cushion.

1 black and white striped blanket from Chefchaouen.

1 chair thrifted in the Marrakech souk, freshly painted by me.

 

Happy weekend:-)

Cairo's Khan el Khalili souk: a tale of Egyptian lanterns

Some things need no words.  Their beauty is enough.

Four Egyptian lanterns were coming home to Marrakech and to Peacock Pavilions with her.....

Let's try this again: your advice needed on my Moroccan interior design book

She had been hard at work.  On her Moroccan interior design book.  Because the deadline was looming and the editor was waiting (gulp).   But she thought she'd take a breather and find out what you think.

This book was for you after all:-)

Online Surveys & Market Research

Oh dear, not sure if this poll is working:-( Your suggestions and thoughts most welcome and helpful in the comments.

Sana'a Yemen souk photos: and a tale of shopping temptation

Oh she had been to many souks, bazaars, and markets in her time.  Ones in Iran, Turkey, Tunisia, Algeria, Egypt, Iraq, and Morocco.  Not to mention those in India, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Thailand,  Cambodia, Vietnam, South Africa, Benin, Senegal, Ghana, and Tanzania.  And so many more that she couldn't possibly list them.  After all, she was a traveler, she was a gypsy, she was a shopper. 

And mostly, she was a girl on a quest for beauty.

But of all the souks that she had been to, it was the souk at Bab el Yemen in the old city of Sana'a that she found most beautiful.  Because rather than packed with new imports from China and plastic-y souvenirs, it was filled with the loveliest things from Yemen, a country with a culture so rich and unique that it was nothing short of dizzying.  Yes, treasures were to be found in the Yemeni souks -- many old, many valuable, many one of a kind.   One's pocketbook was seriously at risk....

Just the smallest sample here.....

Tribal jewelery.  Both new and old.

Accordion lanterns, all folded up.

Or swinging from high above.

Silver boxes. Just one would never do.

Baskets and more baskets.

Vintage patterned flatweaves and blankets.

Antique lacquered spice boxes.

And the most exquisite old embroideries.

So what did she buy?  More to come....

Marrakech: and a tale of astrological signs

He was sitting at the top of the stairs fanning himself lazily.
Good morning, brother, she said to him in Arabic. 
He smiled and replied, Good morning, sister.  It's been a long time. 
She started the Moroccan ritual,  How are you? Is everything fine?  Is your health okay?  How is your family? 
Minutes later, she was in his shop.

She saw it out of the corner of her eye.  She pretended that she wasn't interested. Not really anyway.
What's this? she asked in an offhand manner.
Oh, it's very old, he said.  It is one of those astrological devices used for guidance.
For guidance?  I could use some of that, she said. 
And they both laughed.

She picked it up in its frayed leather pouch.
All brass, it was cool to the touch. Large, it fit in her palm only with fingers outstretched. 
It felt heavy.  Like a thing of quality.  Like a thing of value.
He showed her how to take it apart, how to switch the plates, how to turn the dial. 
She told him she didn't need it.  She told him that she was there looking for something else.  She told him that money was tight.
Then she asked in a breezy way, How much?

He told her his price.  She told him her price.  He told her his price.  She told him her price.

And then she was out the door.
A girl, with guidance in her pocket.