Living in the old medina of Marrakech, I sometimes feel like I live in another world. Another era.
One that is filled with donkeys pulling carts full of items for sale. Like fresh produce.
A place where children run freely through the narrow alley ways. And walk to and from school each day.
Where the man in the corner store knows you and remembers you from the day before.
A place that is filled with the sounds of the call to prayer from one of the several mosques, five times per day.
A community where showers and toilets in homes aren’t always common, so signs for the W.C. or the local hammam are plentiful.
Where the bread is baked while you wait. Or the meat for your sandwich is grilled before your eyes.
An artist studio. Where amazing leather, baskets, furniture, wood products are crafted. Before your eyes.
It’s a simple life. Somewhat magical at times.
And I couldn’t be happier.