Considered by many to be the capital of Gnawa music and having mostly survived tourism without being too terribly spoilt (yet), Essaouira is very different from any other town or village I've been to in Morocco thus far. On one hand, in the medina, it's so clean and polished-feeling with shop after shop selling the same tourist items that there are times when I have to remind myself that I'm still in Morocco. But, if you get off the main streets and down into the alleys, it's possible to get more of a glimpse of life here for the locals. I haven't seen any donkeys since I arrived here and I think that's part of what's throwing me off.
My favorite visual experiences of Morocco have been the sights of the mountains, the donkey carts and the little old men walking around in djellabas, the traditional hooded cloak (some say it makes the men look Jedi- or wizard-like although I'm not sure I agree). Anyway, I didn't mind trading in the frigid mountains for the temperate beach but I do miss seeing the donkeys and I've only seen a handful of older men wearing djellabas. However, like other parts of Morocco, I still am intrigued by random things I see or that happen while I'm walking around town.
Speaking of visual experiences, here's a little side note: of everywhere I've been, Essaouira also seems to have the highest concentration of drop-dead gorgeous men. I've caught myself regularly staring and had to remind myself that despite the temptation to wink, it still doesn't strike me as a good idea to start something here- even flirting. If Hollywood ever catches wind of the high concentration of beautiful men here, they could make a fortune casting exotic, hunky men like Said from Lost. And I've got the perfect first candidate: one fellow who hangs around a ma'alem I'm visiting here who has easily beat out Matthew Fox for first place in Tamara's Top 10 chart of drop-dead gorgeous men. Alas, he speaks not a word of English and hanging around him makes me forget just about every word of Arabic I know so I've resolved to just enjoy the view.
In any case, Essouira is definitely a good place to rest up and recuperate from Marrakech and if it weren't for the Gnawa music opportunities here, I'm not sure there'd be much to else keep me here other than the initial decompressing by the beach- it feels a little too packaged and pretty and even resort-like in places. I've been having this internal argument about it: “why not just enjoy the atmosphere, Tamara? Do you need to be suffering to really feel like you're doing something worthwhile?” which is answered by: “I didn't come all this way to hang out in a resort town! Yes! I need *some* adventure, I need some grit...” “But you are kind of on vacation in a way...” and round and round it goes.
So, I'm a little ambivalent about Essaouira but still enjoying the sound of the ocean, seagulls and a fair amount of sunshine. When I really start to miss the grit of a true adventure, I remind myself that the water temperature of my shower at my lodging is barely luke-warm and thus, provides me with at least a little bit of that suffering I need to feel like I'm still in Morocco.
I'm approaching my Gnawa music studies differently this time. I don't really feel like I've got enough questions at this point to do the whole one-on-one private lesson/interview arrangement like I was doing in Tetouan and in Marrakech. I felt a little bit like I hit a wall with the language barrier so that a lot of what I was learning was so fundamental that it might be a waste of these ma'alems' time. I also had some uncomfortable experiences with private lesson arrangements lately which made me think that I just need to be listening, observing and watching a lot now and slowly learning the songs by ear.
Therefore, I've been dropping in on Ma'alem Sadik's house a few times a week or more to hang out and listen, ask a few questions and soak in the music. I'm also popping into drum shops to meet musicians and slowly trying to make connections so that I can find various groups to sit in on and maybe play/sing along with. I've been hearing a lot about Ma'alem Sadik from others in the town lately- I had no idea he was one of the more known ma'alems here. I've scratched the idea to try and study with Mahmoud Guinea but I might still try to find him and sit in on his group's “jam sessions” if he has them, much like I'm doing with Ma'alem Sadik.
There's one particular little drum shop in Essaouira that I frequent. I go by almost every day to visit with Hassan, a youngish guy there who runs the shop and builds drums as well as guimbris. Just about every day, a new friend of his comes by so I've been meeting some really nice other fellas there too who, of course, play guimbri or drums or both. Hassan is a sweet guy- maybe in his mid 20s with mid back-length dreadlocks and a broad, shining face. The last few times I've come to his shop, he has invited me to sit down and play with him and he'll often start talking to me (in English) about Gnawa music and sharing bits of history since (it appears) that he knows all the ma'alems here as well as the scene. So that's kind of a nice developing connection.
It's a good feeling to slowly be making friends here. Occasionally, I'll run into one of them on the street and exchange hellos. It's gotten to the point now where I have to be careful whose shouts and calls I ignore because, like the other day, someone was trying to get my attention and I just kept walking- then for some reason, turned around and saw that it was Rachid, one of my first contacts here and a really lovely man. And then I felt bad and apologized profusely for being so rude.
On the whole, I'm living my days here very spontaneously, always a bit of reading and writing and thinking, always coffee on my patio in the morning, always at least a wee stroll by the beach or port and usually some sort of attempt to learn something musically every day or make another music connection. I enjoy my evenings quite a bit- if I'm not at Ma'alem Sadik's, I might get a bottle of wine, put music on (the laptop), burn some incense and candles and do some writing.
Nevertheless, I still feel a bit antsy like I should be doing more. Maybe I have some kind of traveler's guilt or it's just challenging for me to have so much freedom while also craving a sense of purpose and direction. It's that whole “suffering” argument again: balancing a need to feel as if I'm doing something worthwhile and productive with also knowing I should allow myself simple pleasures and just enjoy the luxury of being on no schedule, no time frame, and satisfying no one's needs other than my own.
Anyhow, in happy recent news, I bought another bendir the other day, a bass bendir this time. Before I leave Morocco, I'd like to have a set of 3 or 4. I may even have Hassan make me a guimbri- we'll see. Of course, that then begs the question how on earth I will mail all of these things home...
Ta-ta for now.
