My First Moroccan Medina Experience: Casablanca

Once settled into my accommodations, I packed up a day bag with my camera, water, and my passport then made my way back through the neighborhood to the main street that led to my next adventure as a solo traveler. 

    I was excited, full of wonder, and energized – ready to experience anything from speaking to people in a totally different culture, to the strangest street foods I could find (in fact, the stranger- the crazier, the better, to shopping in a place where bargaining is not only allowed, it’s expected. 

   The walk to the old medina, however, meant navigating my way through the hustle and bustle of modern-day Casablanca. In this regard, Casablanca was like most major cities - traffic, thousands of people going about their day and paying no mind to anyone. Horns honked relentlessly. Buses slowed down for no one until the next scheduled stop. Taxis weaved through traffic as if they had a mission to save the world, but did so with precision and impressive skill.

  Still, the city had its own unique charms—small, otherwise trivial details that made it unforgettable. One of the best examples is something you’ll find all across Morocco: tiny, family-owned eateries lining main streets and tucked into neighborhoods. Easily spotted by their fluorescent orange and green tables and chairs, they seat six to eight people at most and serve some of the best meals imaginable—chicken dinners, hamburgers, and shawarma plate lunches, all served with fries. I can’t encourage you enough to stop and eat at one of these places. Like most places in Morocco, it’s a bring your own napkins place. I had the chicken dinner plate that day, and what was set in front of me was full of culinary delights that I never knew existed – those spices!

    I had only been in the country for a couple of days. My food experience here was next to nothing aside from a traditional Moroccan breakfast and a burger. So, when I sat down in one of these quick-lunch hotspots for a bite to eat, I had no idea what I was in for. 

*Now, I must admit that in my video, I appear to be less impressed than I actually was. One must remember that I was not only new to international travel but also vlogging – in public at that. 

     As they situated everything on the table, I noticed two things straight away. One, the color – yellow from the turmeric used was popping and commanded attention. Second, the aroma – the perfect blend of garlic, onion, paprika, perhaps a bit of cumin, plus a couple of more spices I’m sure, filled the air of my little personal space and assured me that I was in for something like never before. It did not disappoint! The chicken was all white meat, which I normally don’t care for because it’s notoriously dry. But they delivered on the juicy!  This was the kind of meal that you couldn’t stop yourself from eating a bit aggressively if you tried.  

    In addition to the fries, it also came with a side of fresh-baked bread – still warm. You could tell this was real bread made with only the base ingredients – as it should be. This was indeed nothing like I’d ever had before. I was immediately addicted to the Moroccan flare of the culinary world. 

    After indulging myself with one of my new favorite foods, I made my way into the first entrance that led into the market. I had stepped into a world like I have never seen. Straight away…right inside the large entrance into the marketplace,  I was greeted by a man selling everything from beautiful, shiny teapots to exquisite art decor done in true Arabic fashion.  

Everything was truly magnificent and I wanted all of it. But I wasn’t there to buy anything. I just wanted to look first. I was out to take in all the sights and sound…and aromas without dropping cash on things that I would eventually have to carry with me to my next destination.

    However, this guy was really working his salesman skills as he pretended to be interested in where I was from, asked how I like Morocco…all the typical questions you can expect to hear when you travel to any touristy place. (Just embrace it and have fun!!) This guy even took the time to help me work on a bit of Arabic – one word, to be exact but it was truly a kind gesture in my opinion. It was finally starting to feel like I was special. I was surely checking off the boxes on the tourist dream list. If you recall from my first post, I warned against traveling to feel special. More on that later.

In spite of how he had tugged at my emotional side in attempts to open my wallet, I politely drew the line and headed deeper into the souk. 

    Once past the teapots and decor, I began to see everything imaginable to sell - clothing, leather goods, musical instruments, children’s toys, fancy lighting just like in the hostel, and of course, jewelry shops. They even had places that did phone repairs. The Moroccan Arabic, along with the ever-present aroma of the spice shops and street food filled the walkways in perfect concert, contributing beautifully to the ambience. 

    It seemed as if in an instant, so many of my curiosities about this country were being answered, and so far, I was not disappointed. The colors, the sounds, and the buzzing energy that seemed to match my own- all surrounded me, they embraced me and carried me through this magical place called the old medina.

I didn’t realize just how much I actually stood out but I was the center of attention. I loved it and I shouldn’t have. For in the medina- especially the medina, but as with any city, if you look like a naive tourist, you’d better buckle up. You’re in for some adventure…and maybe a lesson or two.

    She met me out in the main walkway of the souk. She was an older woman (even older than me!), clearly there to bring the tourists into various shops for a cut of the sales. She was charming in her own “street-wise” way. She was funny and kind. But she had a job to do and she knew how to do it.

Cut forward, I’m in an essential oil shop. Hundreds of self-care options lined the shelves in this cheerfully decorated shop, done so primarily in red. There was a man inside the shop. He was kind, of course, I was at ground zero of a major tourist trap. They both knew how to interact with the likes of me.

“Where are you from?” He asked.

 I replied enthusiastically, “The U.S.!” 

“Ah U.S.!” then began rambling off all the names of major cities he knew. “Chicago! San Fra-sisco! (yes, like that), New York! Miami!” 

“Where in U.S. you from?” He inquired in his best English. 

“Texas.”, I said confidently.

“Ooooohh TEXAS! WOW!” The woman began to do a little “cowboy dance” and made pistol gestures with her hands. I was loving this moment - as I should have! This is why I started traveling. I felt special!

 His smile grew bigger than..well…Texas and said, “You’re a real cowboy, no!?” 

 I laughed and admitted I was just a guy from Texas although I did own a gun.

   At this point, I was ready to be on my way as I began to feel a bit uncomfortable (for no real good reason other than my own ignorance on many levels). I thanked them for their time and politely began my exit from this situation.  BUT - this woman had a job to do and she wasn’t finished with me just yet, and soon I found myself in a small room in the same building with four men seated around a low table, tea already being poured into the small glasses used exclusively for it. The shop was filled with cultural artifacts, each I’m sure with its own story. I turned back and the woman was gone. It was at this moment, I realized I had fallen into “the rug shop trap”.  Well done, my lady…well done.

    Now, I was alone with a handful of people very skilled at taking money from tourists. One of the men took me aside and gave me a quick heads up on some culture etiquette concerning “guests” having tea and the expectations that come with it. While this is actually a thing in Moroccan culture, we can remove the quotation marks because the gesture is otherwise genuine and the time spent is beautiful.

     However, even in my ignorant state of this culture, I knew this wasn’t the case. They were kind so I matched that. I never felt the need to escalate the situation to some dramatic attempt to leave – but I was quick to make my way towards the door, saying my thank you’s and good-bye’s, leaving them to their tea. 

      I think what I find the most entertaining is that all of this happened within a matter of maybe ten minutes!! The old medina in Casablanca is a crazy good experience! Just don’t be afraid to stand your ground (politely at first, of course) and simply walk away having said “Thank you anyway!”

HEY!!!! Did you find this blog a bit lacking in terms of telling a complete story? Good! I’ve done my job here. There’s actually a lot more to this adventure! To fill in the gaps, just click on the link! Don’t forget to “LIKE” and “SUBSCRIBE”!

As always, thank you so much for stopping by! Please leave a comment! I’m always down for feedback.