I nearly missed my opportunity to visit this beautiful Berber village when I came down with an obnoxious sinus/ear infection during my trip. Fortunately, I was feeling mostly recovered and very determined by the time the scheduled trip rolled around during my last week in Marrakech. I couldn't be more glad that I had chosen to go. Our adventure began with an hour and a half ride on a city bus from Marrakech. Then upon arrival in the village, we were split into 2 groups to squeeze into this bus on the right (which appears to have just come out of a safari). It took us on small uneven mountainous paths, sharply curved and slanted roads to a few secluded mud houses until we finally arrived at the cultural center, a tranquil and cozy looking house. The owner and staff greeted us immediately and were incredibly warm and hospitable. We were welcomed into their traditional village routine and introduced to the art of making the perfect pot of Moroccan mint tea.
We were informed that the tea-making demonstration would be followed with a competition later that night so we were all scrutinizing the teacher's steps very carefully. Rinse out tea leaves, add plenty of fresh mint leaves and sugar cubes, add hot water, taste and adjust, repeat. The key here? Be very, very generous with the sugar cubes. If it's not too sweet, then it's not sweet enough.
After a short break, we were given the option of helping to make delicious mouth-watering chicken tagine, fetching water at the well with the donkeys, or learning to bake fresh soft Moroccan bread. I was happy to sit down for the bread lesson and knead the dough to perfection. Of-course, mine required some special attention from the teacher as I couldn't find the middle ground between crusty and dry dough and a sludge with oozing water. Very appetizing, I know.
After the dough was flattened and left to rise, the irresistable aroma of spices, vegetables, and fresh meat coming from the kitchen drew me in. I walked over and took a peek at the other volunteers who were hard at work on the tagines.
About an hour or so later, we brought our dough to a small mud house outside with a clay oven and baked and flipped each one individually. Below, you can admire our finished products.
The heavy clay top of the tagine pot is meant to keep the moisture and condensation in the bottom as the food cooks.
The large tagines were shared amongst tables of 4 volunteers each and there was a peaceful quiet as everyone concentrated on the hearty and mouthwatering meal in front of them. After we had all stuffed ourselves to satisfaction, we were given a couple hours to unwind and explore.
I ended up using the time to goof around with a couple lovely kids of the staff.
In the evening, a few of the staff offered to take us on a quick tour of the area. This "brief" tour would be more accurately described as a two hour hike through surrounding trails and village paths. I felt like I returned to an era of the past where life was simple and toddlers and young children could play in the streets safely, riding their tricycles and exploring nature without constant supervision and fear. I was moved by the calm and untouched way of the village, the sense of community and protection.
When we returned, it was after dusk and a couple puppies from the center welcomed us at the door. This is slightly unusual in Morocco, a region and culture that is more dominated by cats.
We were soon called to dinner which had been generously prepared for us, heaping servings of couscous and vegetables on communal dishes. There was a feeling of warmth and family even though most of us had known each other for only a few days.
After dinner, it was time for the long anticipated tea-making competition! Each volunteer was seated at an individual table and presented with a tray that held a tea pot, tea leaves, two tea glasses, a bowl of mint leaves, and large sugar cubes. If at any time during the competition you felt that you were short of an ingredient, you could signal for staff to bring more.
Here is one of the judges of the competition, cautiously sipping from each glass. She didn't comment during the process so we held our breaths trying to read her inscrutable expression after each sip. Eventually, the points were tallied and I was thankful not be in last place for which the honor of washing the dinner dishes had been reserved for.
Afterwards, the staff and some locals came by and the night became filled with games, music, drumming, and dancing. It felt like a joyful celebration of simply being present and being alive.
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Food,
Morocco,
Travel
