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  • HOME
  • ABOUT
  • THE FAMILY ALBUM
  • ONCE UPON A TIME IN ROMANIA
    • ▸Bucharest, 1989: The days of Revolution
    • ▸I’ve also lived under communism
    • ▸Portraits of transition
    • ▸”Cabernet cu pepsi”
    • ▸Romania, 1990: Beyond the headlines
    • ▸“Mineriada” – My story
    • ▸Memorial of pain
  • WORK IN PROGRESS
    • ▸Barbershop
    • ▸Melancholic Identities
    • ▸Faces
    • ▸Fragmentary world
    • ▸Two
    • ▸Buddhist monks
    • ▸About windows and walls
    • ▸Mediterraneo
  • STORIES
    • ▸Alone, together
    • ▸Life and death in Varanasi
    • ▸Trans-Siberian – An experience of becoming
    • ▸Boxing in Havana
    • ▸Moving out of Escobar shadow
    • ▸One night at Htee Thein monastery
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – I misteri
    • ▸Easter in Sicily – La pasquetta
    • ▸Stalin’s Museum in Gori
    • ▸Havana: Between magic and decay
    • ▸Muay Thai for a day
    • ▸Cuban billboards
    • ▸Seeking a geisha
    • ▸Belfast’s murals: Behind and beyond
    • ▸Riding the Yangon’s ring train
    • ▸Bazar-Barakholka-Vernisazh
    • ▸An unexpected trip to Dhobi Ghat
    • ▸A different way to look at death
    • ▸Cannes under siege
    • ▸Inside the Guru’s kitchen
    • ▸Tibetan refugees
    • ▸The Golden Triangle: A Mecca of tribal diversity
    • ▸Bullfighting: Barbaric or art ?
    • ▸Crafts and traditions in Morroco
    • ▸Glastonbury with God
  • TRAVEL
    • Cuba
      • ▸The show must go on (part 1)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 2)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 3)
      • ▸The show must go on (part 4)
    • France
      • ▸Paris
      • ▸Paris. Again
    • Greece
      • ▸Mount Athos
      • ▸Postcards from Santorini
      • ▸Athens
      • ▸Mykonos – The picture-perfect Island
    • Germany
      • ▸Berlin
    • Vietnam
      • ▸Four days in Hanoi
      • ▸Cruising through the misty Halong Bay
    • India
      • ▸Portraits of Kashmir
      • ▸Rishikesh – Spiritual marketplace
      • ▸Life on the Sidewalk
    • Ireland
      • ▸The capital of pubs
      • ▸Ireland in ten days
    • Israel
      • ▸Israel in black & white
    • Colombia
      • ▸Colombia
      • ▸Paisas, coffee and much more
      • ▸Streets of Bogota – From Dystopia to Hope
      • ▸Life along the magical Magdalena River
      • ▸A non-touristy guide to Cartagena’s Caribbean paradise
    • Myanmar
      • ▸Min-ga-la-ba Myanmar
      • ▸Up and down on the hills of Shan State
    • Japan
      • ▸Tokyo
      • ▸Springtime in Kyoto
    • Portugal
      • ▸Life at the edge of Europe
    • Russian Federation
      • ▸The unexpected Moscow
      • ▸White Nights in St. Petersburg
    • Italy
      • ▸Rome
      • ▸Random Sicily
      • ▸Vedi Napoli e poi mori
      • ▸Venice
      • ▸Vanishing Venice
    • Morocco
      • ▸Sunset, camel rides and tea in Erg Chebi
      • ▸Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities
      • ▸Morocco outskirts
      • ▸Djemaa El Fna encounters
      • ▸Surf and hippies
      • ▸The road of the One thousand kasbahs
      • ▸Amazigh – Berber – Free men
    • Georgia
      • ▸Postcards from Georgia
      • ▸The Many Faces of Tbilisi
    • Nepal
      • ▸Kathmandu Valley
    • Romania
      • ▸Romania to go
      • ▸Maramures
      • ▸Tara Motilor
    • Jordan
      • ▸Bedouin Trails
    • Turkey
      • ▸From Turkey with love
      • ▸Ballooning Cappadocia
      • ▸Where East meets West
      • ▸Street life, Istanbul-style
    • Mexico
      • ▸Finding Mexico City
    • Malaysia
      • ▸Transit KL
    • UK
      • ▸London
      • ▸Grab your kilt and bring your pipes
    • Sweden
      • ▸Stockholm
    • Spain
      • ▸Off-season Andalusia
    • Thailand
      • ▸Bangkok, year 2555
      • ▸Life in Pai
      • ▸Thailand
    • Laos
      • ▸Luang Prabang – The City of ultimate Zen
    • Poland
      • ▸Why I love Poland
    • Estonia, Latvia & Lithuania
      • ▸Neighbors, but not relatives
      • ▸Patarei – A little slice of Hell
    • Findland
      • ▸A sunny day in Helsinki
    • Denmark
      • ▸Copenhagen
  • SINGLES
  • CONTACT
  • MY BOOKS
  • MY VIDEOS
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Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities

 

Set only a short ride by ship from the south of Spain, Morocco is a different world, with sights, sounds and scents that captured for centuries the imagination of adventure seekers. At the heart of all its cities lies a “medina”, a labyrinth of narrow streets and alleys, off limits for car traffic, where the donkey and the bicycle are the only means of transportation.

Medina is an Arab word that means “city” and, in present times, it is the name of the old Islamic downtown, surrounded by defense walls. Every medina is a city in itself. A few elements are omnipresent: the mosque, the “medersa” (Islamic school) and the “hammam” (public bath). Houses are really close to each other creating the labyrinth of streets. The entrances are guarded by “bab” (gates) which are often very colorfully decorated. Along the stone paved ways there are thousands of “souk” (markets) where all kinds of merchandise, including food and clothing are sold. The street and houses of the medinas represent the pre-industrial culture. In the Islam tradition homes are private worlds, built to conceal the life behind the high walls. No windows facing the street, all views to the interior patio, the passerby is left with no chance but to guess the wealth of the owner.

Every town has its own medina with its own personality. Some medinas are purely Islamic; others display French, Spanish or Portuguese cultural influence. In medinas the various ethnic groups always have reserved spaces or separate quarters. The most significant ethnic minority are the Jews, who live in quarter’s named “mellah” with their own municipal councils, schools and places of worship.

 

 

 

 

 

Medinas: Morocco’s hidden cities

 

Set only a short ride by ship from the south of Spain, Morocco is a different world, with sights, sounds and scents that captured for centuries the imagination of adventure seekers. At the heart of all its cities lies a “medina”, a labyrinth of narrow streets and alleys, off limits for car traffic, where the donkey and the bicycle are the only means of transportation.

Medina is an Arab word that means “city” and, in present times, it is the name of the old Islamic downtown, surrounded by defense walls. Every medina is a city in itself. A few elements are omnipresent: the mosque, the “medersa” (Islamic school) and the “hammam” (public bath). Houses are really close to each other creating the labyrinth of streets. The entrances are guarded by “bab” (gates) which are often very colorfully decorated. Along the stone paved ways there are thousands of “souk” (markets) where all kinds of merchandise, including food and clothing are sold. The street and houses of the medinas represent the pre-industrial culture. In the Islam tradition homes are private worlds, built to conceal the life behind the high walls. No windows facing the street, all views to the interior patio, the passerby is left with no chance but to guess the wealth of the owner.

Every town has its own medina with its own personality. Some medinas are purely Islamic; others display French, Spanish or Portuguese cultural influence. In medinas the various ethnic groups always have reserved spaces or separate quarters. The most significant ethnic minority are the Jews, who live in quarter’s named “mellah” with their own municipal councils, schools and places of worship.

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