Violetta skymningar: A visit to Rabat

Before Easter, I made a pleasant trip to Rabat, the administrative city of Morocco. I took the train from Fez, watching the lush landscape with patches of different shades of green climbing the hills, olive groves and vineyards in the area around Meknes, families waiting for a train at stations with beautiful names like Ain Hammam and Sidi Yahia.

A fellow passenger was having lengthy phone calls, talking on his cell phone in a mixture of French and Arabic, which I found very interesting. I love the intonation of Moroccan Arabic, called Darija, influenced by Berber, French and Spanish.

Morocco seems to be full of contrasts, from life in the medinas to modern city life, from shepherds watching their sheep to busy businessmen, from contemporary art to the more traditional craftwork, from donkey carts to silver coloured city trams. Rabat is one of the four Imperial cities, the other three are Marrakesh, Fez and Meknes.

In Rabat, I stayed at a hotel quite near the Hassan Tower, a minaret of an incomplete mosque from 1195. I loved visiting the site, which encompasses the white marble Mausoleum of Mohammed V, and I returned to it a few times, just to enjoy the environment. There was a nice breeze from the sea (or from the river?), I enjoyed watching the guards on their magnificent horses, the people walking in the open space among the columns, Moroccan families dressed in beautiful clothes, and tourists, some of them dressed in a less attractive way, but nevertheless paying respect to the historical site.

On my way back to the hotel, I stopped to have a snack at one of the cafés in the quiet sidestreet of Al Marinyine, popular among young people. And as I love trams, I took a tram ride and drove down to the medina, where I bought a very modern looking cotton/linen djellaba, grey with orange and black embroideries in front, nice on cold winter days in Finland.

I also visited the Nouzhat Hassan Garden, where men, both young and old, were having lively conversations at a small café in the shade of the trees. In Finland, I am used to seeing both men and women mingling at cafés and other public places, but I do understand that traditions vary in other countries and cultures. So after hesitating for a moment, I sat down at the café and ordered a soft drink, enjoying the afternoon sun. A small cat occupied the chair next to mine. Too bad I missed the Andalusian Garden. Back on the tram, I was proud to present a valid ticket to the young man checking the passengers’ tickets, as we passed the St. Peter’s Cathedral in Art Deco style.

Rabat is full of Street Art, from my hotel room up on the fourth floor I could see the big mural by the young Italian artist Pixel Pancho. The futuristic metal figure of the painting, a good robot shepherd with his robot lambs, looked a bit spooky in the evening as darkness fell... Hendrik Beikirch’s Najma, a portrait in black spray paint of an elderly woman in a head scarf, is another famous mural in Rabat. Too bad I didn’t get to see more of them.

At the Mohammed VI Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art I saw the exhibition Afrique en Capitale. There was art by Guerresi Maimouna, Diseye Tantua, Faouzi Laatiris, Cheri Cherin, Leila Alaoui, Kouka, among others. Like always, I enjoyed taking pictures of people watching the art, a young boy impatiently pulling at his mother’s arm, a girl wearing blue, almost becoming part of the art works on the wall. I also enjoyed the building itself, built in Arab-Moorish style, both modern and traditional. The light fell beautifully in the entrance lobby and in the stairs. The museum is an initiative of His Majesty King Mohammed VI.

The museum’s tea room seemed to be a popular place for young people, young Moroccan women in particular, perhaps students. Many had brought their laptops with them, the atmosphere was relaxed and inspiring. In the bookstore, I bought a t-shirt with a Moroccan version of the classic Keep Calm and Carry On-print (originally a British poster from 1939).

In Rabat, I visited the Embassy of Finland. The young taxi driver had problems finding the address in the residential area of Souissi, where embassies from all over the world are situated. The name of the street didn’t help, but it was interesting to drive around in the area… We passed the Lebanese embassy, the Hungarian… Finally I caught sight of the Finnish flag, next to the Norwegian. The Finnish embassy shares its office with the Norwegian, the interior design of the nice villa is Nordic and minimalistic, but the Moroccan room has preserved its intricate wood ornaments.
Had I arrived one week earlier I could have cast my vote in the Finnish local government election. Anyway, I enjoyed afternoon tea and told the friendly staff about my stay at Culture Vultures’ international art residence in Sefrou. I exchanged a few words with young Norwegians visiting the embassy, and of course I had to mention how young people in Finland (and their mothers!) are impatiently waiting for the next season of the popular teen drama, Skam… Kjempebra!

I also met professor and writer Abdelmajid Benjelloun, former president of Moroccan PEN, in his beautiful home not too far from the American Embassy. Again, I enjoyed the taxi ride along the Avenue Muhammed VI. I caught glimpses of the Boug Regred River (which I thought was the sea!) and we passed sienna coloured walls, perhaps the walls of a former Kasbah fort. Over a glass of mint tea we discussed writing and literature, the works of Tahar Ben Jelloun and Paul Bowles, life in Europe in the 1960s, surrealism vs realism, questions concerning freedom of speech and human rights, and more personal things like the agony of getting older along with the imnmense joy of having grandchildren, the blessing and gratitude of having had the opportunity to lead a creative life.

In the evening, I had a snack at the Zumba sports café in the building with Pixel Pancho’s mural on the wall, opposite the hotel. Young people were watching a football match and I got the feeling I could have been anywhere in the world, north or south, east or west…
Next day, I took the train to Fez, and from there a grand taxi back to Sefrou, where the residence in the medina was waiting for me, one more week to go. On the roof top, the evening sky was rosy, storks were attending their nests up in the minarets, and soon the evening call to prayer filled the air.

Now I am already home in Helsinki, but I want to write about my last week in Sefrou, my visit at the Paul Bowles Wing at the American Legation in Tangier and the lovely Café Hafa, the ferry ride back to Tarifa and Spain, back to Europe, Fortress Europe… Too bad I missed Marrakech and “tea in the Sahara”… the blue city of Chefchaouen…