Having Friends at Souq

The souq is a lifeline here in the bled(rural villages/countryside) of Morocco. T’Hanuts in these villages carry some of the basic daily house necessities, ie. soap, oil, rice, milk, butane, etc.; but it would be difficult to survive here without the goods and services provided by the weekly souq market. The souq is so important in fact, that even professionals adjust their work schedule and sometimes don’t work on souq day in order to get their shopping done. In the TashlHite language, there is even a verb specifically for the act of going to the souq (“Swwuqagh idgam” = “I shopped at souq yesterday”). The most important items at souq, of course, are food staples like fruits and vegetables, fresh and powdered herbs and spices, coffee beans, and teas. Also very important, however, are the many incidentals for daily life like dishes, ovens, buckets(which are used constantly in a Moroccan household), yarn for weavers, tools for workmen, used clothes, farm animals, livestock feed, blacksmith and cobbler services, locks, brushes, tires, notebooks, rugs, the list goes on and on. Access to these goods are essential to life in places where the next best way to buy them is often a bus that you can’t afford. Access to these goods is also especially important if you happen to be moving into your own home after relocating to a foreign country with only the limited items that can fit on an airplane. Being in that situation, Amber and I began our “souqing” last Monday in the next town over(see previous post for more on that adventure), and continued our search for household necessities this Thursday in our own town.
Nearing the souq entrance on Thursday morning, we noticed some nice used pots and pans lying on an outstretched sheet bordered on one side by used televisions and on the other by used shoes. Not seeing the vendor, we took note and moved on. Somewhere around this time, we were joined by a boy of perhaps 10 years who followed us for the rest of the morning, staying right at my side with a shy smile. Often times, if we showed interest in something, our new friend would lean in and whisper the name of the object in TashlHite. Occasionally, I would pick up an unknown object and ask “Matskirt ee wad?“(What do you do with this?), to which he would shrug with innocence or meekly reply. Although he did ask for money a couple times, and once asked me to buy him a pen, I could tell that these were not his motives for following us. He had genuine interest in us and appreciated our company. Having been shamelessly asked for pens and money by the neighborhood kids countless times, I now know that it is an innocent and natural response to seeing foreigners which does not derive from greed or exploitation, but rather from a communal value to sharing ones wealth and good fortune with those less fortunate. I know this because I have witnessed Moroccans, who are by no means well of, giving what they can to the beggars and paupers among them. Still, to give my new young friend anything of mine, even something as small as a pen, would have set a bad precedent and fed the stereotype of the rich foreigner that I am trying hard to overcome. Instead, I offered him my free sample piece of melon, which he accepted and ate amidst low-slung tarps and the shaded fragrant produce that fill the back section of the souq.
After circling the aisles of the souq numerous times, we settled on the items we wanted; among them, a pack of simple tea glasses, a plastic juicer, a butane stove, a foam mattress, and a giant bucket in which to do laundry. Moderately concerned about getting these large objects back to our house which was a 30 minute walk down the road, I was relieved to run into our host-father who suggested that we leave our goods with a vendor friend of his offering to have them sent to our house in a transit bus later that day. Pleased with the charity of our friends and relieved of all burdens, we walked on, returning to the vendor with the used pots and pans we had seen earlier. The items still there, Amber began negotiations with the vendor’s starting price of 125Dhs for two matching pots and a pan. Finding that price too high, Amber made a counter offer which initiated a true scene of haggling. In the midst of their escalating negotiations, which were now drawing a small curious crowd, we were joined by a friend of ours who happens to be an Imam in a nearby “duwar”. Although our friend was careful not to show obvious inclinations for either side of the argument, it certainly may have helped that the respected religious figure was there greeting us, and in the end, the price was dropped to an even 100dhs. “Humduillah!”(Thanks be to god!) Souq, it seems, in addition to being an important lifeline, is also a place where friendships are made, celebrated, and improved.