I know
very little about Berber carpets. Do you? Well, I know a bit more now
that I have been in a very rural part of Morocco (referred to as the
'Bled') and spent a day with an amazing Berber family, related to our
family friend, Mohammed. Mohammed has been a friend for 7 years and my
sister, Luarena, has been up to his country family before, about 4 years
ago. Then, they had no electricity or running water.
They
got electricity about a year ago and, of course, the first thing they
did was buy a television! The running water is still not there but they
have a lovely well with fresh water. They also cook on open fires and
made us some delicious pancakes served up with honey and butter.
The
drive up was long and arduous. We stopped along the way for lunch in a
small, clean cafe and then headed up higher and higher, round twisting
and turning bends with long drops on one side. It was beautiful but you
wouldn't want to be afraid of heights. Along the way, we saw more and
more Argane trees, which produce the wonderful, health giving Argane
Oil, now becoming more widely known outside of Morocco. On several
occasions, we saw goats in the Argane trees, munching on the spiny
branches. They also use the tree as shade in the hot afternoon.
As we approached the destination, we came across one of Mohammed's
relations, Yusuf, who was there with a horse and cart to take us
further. We were running really late so we decided to carry on driving.
Later on, we realised it would probably have been faster in the horse
and cart, in the river and then through the fields.
The
road got narrower and narrower. The walls closed in. Those walls looked
like the ones you see in the west of Ireland only of lighter stone.
They criss-crossed the landscape and, in fields which were clearly meant
for farming and planting, you could see hundreds of those rocks dotted
about. I wondered aloud that it made sense that they still dug the
fields with a cow and old fashioned plough as a modern machine would be
broken up in no time. Here and there were what looked like small cairns
of rocks and Mohammed told us these marked the boundaries within the
fields of various families' crops.
Driving
through the narrow lane, I thought for sure the car would not make it
but Moroccan drivers are nothing if not intrepid. Eventually, we were
driving through a field, twisting and turning to avoid those rocks and
we made it to the compound of this wonderful family.
The
welcome was like nothing I've ever experienced before. Because Luarena
had been there before, she was welcomed like a long lost relative and
because we were her sisters, we were welcomed the same way. In Morocco,
when you are a friend or family member who is not seen often, they kiss
you countless times on each cheek. When I say countless, I mean just
that - between 20 and 50 kisses on each cheek! Between all the mothers,
daughters and grandmothers, we were practically kissed to death. It was
so warm and welcoming you couldn't help feel like you were now an
honorary family member.
That's Arkia, 88, on the left. |
The
matriarch of them all is Arkia, who is 88 and Mohammed's aunt.
Mohammed's father and Arkia are siblings and come from a family where
their father had four wives so there were something like 29 children!
Arkia still cooks, works on the farm, weaves and does all the things
that the other, much younger, women do there.
They
served us up a chicken couscous, made with polenta and the soured milk
which they love but we all found a bit hard to deal with. We ate our
fill and then talked with them all about their lives and they showed us
around the adjoining houses and outbuildings.
More
and more people arrived, more kissing and welcomes. We were shown the
new foal, the new calf, the goat pen with thorny branches from the
Argane trees on top of the walls to keep both predators out and the
goats in. We were shown the hens, cockerels and the baby chicks and
were given at least a dozen eggs when we left, safely stowed in a big
bag of cornmeal. We thought perhaps they thought we'd never seen
animals before as we ooh-ed an aah-ed on each new revelation and took
photos of everything.
We
showed them photos of Ireland and they were as fascinated with them as
we were with their lives. Then tea and pancakes were served, having been
made by the new mother with her small baby, Farid, strapped on her
back, squatting in front of the open fire.
Eventually,
we brought up the subject of carpets. Jacquie and I wanted a carpet for
our living room. We'd been living with a bare floor for months. They
showed us new and gaudy things first and then we spotted some old
carpets on the floor and indicated our interest. They clearly thought we
were crazy and when we offered to pay, they thought we were even
crazier and wanted to give them to us. I am glad we insisted on paying
for them as the carpets turned out to be far more interesting than we
realised at the time.
Part of Arkia's amazing carpet |
Finally, after picking three rugs that were mostly woven in cottons and between 20 and 50 years old, we found the piece de resistance
when we spotted one the matriach, Arkia, had made. It is 10 feet by 5
feet, at least, and of the most amazing colours and design. It's almost
Navajo in colour and pattern. It's made of wool and at least 60 years
old. Turns out to be worth between €800 - €1000!! The others are not so
valuable but are lovely, with intricate patterns and designs. I bought
one for my bedroom that is made with tassles from old clothes all over
in a colourful pattern.
Close of of the rag rug made from old clothes |
We
eventually left as it was getting dark and it was starting to rain. As
we made our way back down the precarious mountains in the pitch dark,
the heavens opened in torrents. Proper tropical rain. Luckily, they have
painted the roads properly so we could see, just about, the middle and
the edges.
The whole rug. |
On
our way to the car in Essaouira we got completely drenched and drove
home soaked to the skin. Walking back to our house in Taghazout at 2am,
we got drenched again and had to take hot showers when we got in to warm
back up. Most unusual weather for that time of year. It made the trip
all the more adventurous.
It was, without doubt, the highlight of my visit to Morocco and a great ending to what had been an awful start.
One of the cotton antique carpets |
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