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    Photos from Morocco

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    by anakuka, Views[222]
         		 by anakuka, Views[230]
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    by anakuka, Views[198]
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         		 Kids still rule the streets in the small city of Chefchaouen...the excitment and tension of a penalty kick...the goalie spreads his arms, the public is hypnotized, the striker kicks and...: by manoel_ferreira, Views[510]
     
    The morning travellers crossing the desert. It´s hard to have a sense of direction in that beautiful sea of sand, sun and dunnes: by manoel_ferreira, Views[836]
         		 The moment I arrived in Morocco, I felt travelling back to ancient times...that woman and her donkey could have been crossing that small river for centuries : by manoel_ferreira, Views[340]
         		 Not knowing arabic, I was as curious as the school boy on the meaning of the enigmatic equation... : by manoel_ferreira, Views[346]
         		 In a lost corner in Marrakesh, old-friends meet for a quick chat...: by manoel_ferreira, Views[1421]
         		 With his stall adorned in glowing lights, an array of dried produce awaits sale at the night markets in Marrakech.: by emstack, Views[431]
     
    Custom to the ancient city of Fes, the art of blue clay pottery is well known. However the superstition in Islamic culture that a photograph takes away your soul is not well known to an eager watching westerner. : by emstack, Views[423]
         		 Fleeing the busy medina alleyways, a worker scales rooftops to lay softened leather to dry in the sun. : by emstack, Views[433]
         		 In the 40 degree heat a young man submerges himself into the grueling daily task of softening leather in ammonia rich baths. : by emstack, Views[430]
         		 High in the Altas Mountains an inquisitive indigenous Berber man practices his English with passing tourists.: by emstack, Views[408]
         		 A woman and her children wait outside the entrance of a small mosque within Fes, hoping for a compassionate gift of food or money from a passersby. This is one of the few safe places to sit and they have the best chance of receiving help here near a religious center.: by missloukins, Views[263]
     
    The common sights and sounds of Fes: people- yelling out words of caution and frustration- and animals hauling over-sized loads, as pedestrians flatten themselves against the walls to avoid being trampled. But as this man and his mule passed by transporting water containers, he remained silent and patient with the commotion ahead of him.: by missloukins, Views[307]
         		 Just inside the gates of a religious/education center, a man turns an uneasy gaze towards a flock of pigeons that has just been disturbed above him.: by missloukins, Views[282]
         		 A boy tries to haggle with a shop-keeper over the price of baghrir (Moroccan crepes/hotcakes). : by missloukins, Views[465]
         		 by adynugroho, Views[220]
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    by adynugroho, Views[248]
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         		 What's happening in the Medina?: by cptdemuro, Views[253]
         		 Mogador Ancient Citywalls: by cptdemuro, Views[254]
     
    Mogador Customhouse: by cptdemuro, Views[274]
         		 When the sea meet the sky!: by cptdemuro, Views[245]
         		 Fishermans organizing the hard night job: by cptdemuro, Views[236]
         		 This man, for me the icon of Essaouira... in the right place at the right moment! What he's thinking about all the tourists coming in the land where his parents live since century ago?: by cptdemuro, Views[231]
         		 Tipical Moroccoan woman cleaning fishes with hungry seagulls waiting for something fresh: by cptdemuro, Views[275]
     
    Old citywalls protect today the city of Essaouira from the actual civilization... the port is the place where the land meet the sea and preserve fishing traditions!: by cptdemuro, Views[282]
         		 Customhouse... : by cptdemuro, Views[282]
         		 Tipical small blue fishing boats made one body with the sea and the sky... at the back bigger fishing boats to protect the story of this place!: by cptdemuro, Views[309]
         		 Some fishermans organizing their hard job...: by cptdemuro, Views[254]
         		 Walking through the souk is an overwhelming experience: an indescribable variety of sounds, smells and colours are constantly competing for your attention. As you rush through the narrow passageways you feel as though you have been transformed into a giant eye desperately trying to register every little detail. You glance to your right and in that moment, a moment so short that it doesn’t seem to have duration at all, out of the corner of your eye, amidst the ‘clamour of being’ that is the souk, you glimpse a little girl at the end of a narrow side street. It happens so fast that you don’t know if you’ve really seen her: rather you sense her presence. I took this picture while I was walking. It looks blurry because I took it while I was moving: this is not an effect I added later. There was something surreal and serene about the way in which the little girl appeared only to disappear in the next instant. The essence of the souk is exactly this: an endless series of moments, of passing impressions that often don’t have the time to coalesce into conscious perceptions but when they do they produce an aching sensation of the timelessness of this place.: by nushi, Views[535]
     
    As you walk past the clothing souk you barely notice the seller: he seems to merge with the caftans and the Arab and Berber djellabas hanging around him. After spending a few days wandering in the souk you begin to recognize this look on every face you see: it’s the look of a man for whom time has no longer any meaning. The souk seller measures time in customers. Once in a while a customer wakes him up from his daze. Once the customer is gone, the seller slides back into his narcotic-like state, locked up behind his vacant stare, until another customer breaks the spell.: by nushi, Views[567]
         		 In the butcher’s souk you can find anything you can imagine, from plucked chickens to camel liver, goat heads, camel heads and sheep brain, all ‘tastefully’ displayed on the counter or hanging over it. Amidst live chickens squawking in cages, waiting to be weighed, and scrawny cats prowling underneath the counters bedecked with tongues and lungs, this old man, focused on his work, seems to exist only in the moment even though he must have performed exactly the same movements hundreds of times, on days exactly like this one. : by nushi, Views[492]
         		 Another day at the butcher’s shop. While the young apprentice cuts the meat (lamb, cow or camel) the old man stares vacantly in front of him, waiting for a customer or perhaps vaguely recalling every day of his life that began exactly like this. The monotonousness of life in the souk can be oppressing and yet strangely liberating as you become acutely aware of the ephemeral, transitory nature of this one moment in the timeless life of the souk.: by nushi, Views[548]
         		 Marrakech, the souk: the heart of town. Early in the morning, while the tourists are still asleep in their luxurious riads (traditional Moroccan houses with an interior garden), the narrow streets of the medina are already swarming with men in djellabas and women hiding their faces behind chadras, going about their business the way they have been doing for centuries. Every day, within the ancient walls of the medina, the same daily ritual is repeated as men and women haggle for various goods over a glass of hot mint tea. Rays of sunlight through the palm-frond roof illuminate the mind-boggling variety of wares—from silver Berber jewellery, blue-glazed Fassi ceramics, argan oil, brassware, tajine spices, meats, snails, magic potions, lanterns, freshly dyed saffron and vermillion wool, djellabas and purses to sequin-dotted leather camel toys, babouches (traditional leather slippers), burnooses (hooded capes) and magic carpets. : by nushi, Views[658]
         		 View from the roof of my hotel: by t-rev, Views[223]
     
    by jbargar, Views[222]
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