Morocco (Part 2) : Marrakech Vendors

Some Morocoan Proverbs: 

"Bend over, but talk straight."

"You will see many things in Morocco that surprise you--even donkeys flying."

Having fun with the vendors...

Winston Churchill described Marrakech as "the loveliest spot on Earth to spend an afternoon." He stayed about six months (six different trips) of his life here on painting expeditions--trying to capture the light and beauty of this place he called the "Paris of the Sahara." When he and Roosevelt met in Casa Blanca in 1943 to figure out how to end the war, he coaxed the ailing American president to come to Marakeesh for just two days. The reason? To see the light change colors in the sunset and experience the narrow alleys inside the red walls of the medina (the large sprawling market). Marakeesh sparked him to be a better artist (Yes, he was indeed a great writer, leader, AND artist). Morocco charmed him for about three decades of his life--from the 1930's until his last trip in the 1960's.

Winston Churchill's painting of Marrakech

Churchill was right. Marrakech is one of the loveliest spots on earth. You feel like an adventure is brewing once you step off the train in Marrakech. But to go inside the red walls of the medina and see the people of this desert treasure is, even more, exhilarating My blog about Marakeesh Craftsmanship in the Medina To trek and meander the narrow alleys of the many villages that make up the medina allows you to see Moroccan humanity up close. You can smell the cooking, admire the craftsmanship, laugh at their jokes and antics, and be amazed by the creativity with just a few materials.

As you walk into the medina, there is a distinct sense of many communities working and living closely together--sometimes for generations. Vendors brag their ancestors haggled with would-be customers in their same space--even hundreds of years before. The communities living and working inside the medina are fascinating to watch and observe. For example, many still share an earthen oven to make their daily bread together. The dough is made every day, sometimes twice daily, and brought to the oven to bake. Rubber stamps are embedded in the round, flat, crusty bread so they know which family it comes from.

The medina is divided into quarters--each has a mosque, hammam (bathhouse), communal bread oven, and a madrassa (an educational institution). Just choose a direction. Maps won't be helpful. You have to navigate with landmarks and all your five senses in the "medina maze." You will feel like you are in an Indiana Jones movie. Have fun!

Walking around the medina at night. 

Creative vender in the medina. He wrote signs in English to direct everyone to his shop.

All kinds of olives....

Arabic pastries are usually sweet and syrupy. 

Spices are piled everywhere of saffron, hibiscus, curries, rose petals, turmeric, cinnamon, cardamon, white pepper...

I am endlessly fascinated with spices. Notice the beautifully carved doors to the shop.

A woodcarver shop. He has on the authentic dress of Morocco for men, a wool tunic with a hood.

More spices... and also for medicinal purposes. Vendors wear white coats to show they are here to assist your ailments. Westerners know pills, but not this kind of herbal apothecary. 

It is fun to wander in to smell, rub herbs together in muslin. You can find argon oil, perfumes, and the exoticness of North Africa.

You can find sandalwood, black cumin seeds for sinuses, frankincense to help you feel calm, etc. 

If I could choose, I would say I like the pottery shop the best of all. I wish I could have brought back dozens of geometrically colored plates, bowls, and tangine pots.

Moroccan vendors like to make their wares beautifully arranged to make it more appealing to the buyer.

A family helping their grandma get on a scooter.

Elias going to bed on his birthday with a the traditional Moroccoan hat called "the fez"--named for the city of Fez. It was popular during the Ottoman empire. 

Some people were all dressed for their Moroccan holiday--and fit in perfectly with the crowd. The older men still wear these loose tunics, but the younger men generally wear t-shirts and jeans. 

The bread of Morocco--flatbread about an inch high called khobaz in Arabic. Since Moroccan people consume so much bread (sometimes making it twice daily), you can see many vendors speckled around the streets and medina selling khobz.

Another way to use humor and personalize your accessories is made from the vendors. You can write anything you want, in other languages too.

Bargaining with the vendor of the wedding blankets.

Learning the art of henna...

The captivating doors and statue inside of this rug shop just beg you to come in.

Wandering the medina and its labyrinths are not for the weary. The walk home is filled with stories and adventures of a very full day.  Senses have peeked and you feel like you have just met with a whole new array of humanity. And a few more friends too.

Qatar Public Art Baby Sculptures

"She (the baby) was needed, and then there she was among us, growing and changing every day, a living little girl, one of us. At first, she was only present, enclosed mostly in her own small being. And then, we could see it happening, she began to look out of her eyes. She began to see the light from the windows. She began to see us. She began to know us. She began to look at us and smile, as if greeting us from a world we did not know or had forgotten."  
                           --Wendell Berry from his book Hannah Coulter


When you think about it, we in this world have so many more similarities than differences. One of them starts from each of our beginning, our source. We have all been on the same journey to arrive here on this earth. Each of us has been cradled in the same kind of dark, warm and watery cocoon. The unfamiliar jostling of our birth to this world, I am sure, abruptly awakened our senses. Initially, the new journey must be disorienting and uninviting. Hopefully, most of us are greeted warmly to our new light-filled home.

Each time I have gazed at the shimmering 14 bronze sculptures by the British artist, Damien Hirst, here in Doha, Qatar that is called "The Miraculous Journey," I am flooded with awe. This continuous journey, which humanity has been traveling on for eons of time fills me with a renewed reverence for the breath of life. Each of the 14 sculptures illustrates a turning point on the journey we have all passed. As you walk along the path by the sculptures, they spark you to remember our singular common journey--that we were meant to change and grow. They show you that being alive means we are constantly developing and being shaped--that life is a wonderful wonder.

All of the 14 sculptures make up about 216 tons. When you are underneath them, you feel the magnitude of the scale and power of life. Furthermore, you sense the importance of how tremendously important every child/person is in this world. They came on "The Miraculous Journey" for a purpose all their own. And when we encounter all of these sojourners, we must remember the tenderness and goodness that each can bring to this world.

As my husband says who has delivered about 25,000 babies, "Every child is a miracle. I never tire of bringing a child (sometimes two or three or four at a time) to this world. I enjoy it so much that I would do it all for free. The moment the child arrives, the room is filled with unspeakable hope and happiness. And I feel like the luckiest person to be there in that room with all that joy. It is different every time, every family, each child. But the same joy is there. Every time."

The end of the gestation journey--a baby boy who is almost 46 feet tall.

The public sculptures in front of the new Sidra Women's and Children's Hospital that opened in January 2018.

The first one in the series of the gestational beginning in the uterus.

The splitting of the egg and then the division of the eggs. The top is called the morula, the early stage of an embryo consisting of sixteen cells.

The first three sculptures in a line show before the embryo is formed.

The beginning of the fetus

The fetus begins to form.

Growing 

The body begins to be distinguishable...

The one may be my personal favorite. Do you see the smile on one of the twin's faces? My husband is a twin so he particularly liked this one too. 

About 20 weeks or five months of pregnancy

About six months

About seven months

Giving another perspective of the different stages of life. My husband wanted to stand in front of the twins since he has a twin sister. Sometimes people ask if they are identical. The answer is no. He says she is much better looking. 

The Rememberer

Elias getting his Eagle Scout award last week here in Doha. I was tremendously struck as I looked out into that audience in Doha of all the people, visible and not, who helped him get this award. Many communities interlinked in my mind as I thought of all his mentors whom he has loved and love him.

Definition of a "rememberer": Someone who belongs to a community or has been a part of several or many communities. All those people of the past are pressed into the rememberer's heart--bonds they will never let shrivel and die. The simple unraveling of the memories of people, known and connected, bring comfort and elation. The rememberer, above all, is supremely grateful to be a part of a community, a neighborhood, a family because it gives the opportunity to connect and love even more. Every person is important to the rememberer.

Often times people will ask me what it is like to have a child with autism. They are curious and I want to answer their question as succinctly as possible. The autism journey is individual and personal--no child with autism, of course, is like the next one. But for me, if I could say what I have learned most is: I am blessed to live with a "rememberer." Elias absolutely loves people. The mere mention of anyone who is in his memory bank brings him infinite pleasure and joy. He loves without conditions and boundaries.

Relationships and people are his euphorias. It fuels him to the top to see and visit those whom he loves. Furthermore, he knows their birthdays and talks about the impact they have had on his life. He will even ask about your grandfather's birthday and if he fought in WW2 or the Korean War. He is not only curious about you but he wants to know extensive facts about your family. If no one else is interested in your family history, you can depend on him to be. There are hundreds and hundreds of people in his head swirling around whom he has loved, and he never lets them vanish. Never. I know because I hear the reflective unfolding of his memory bank daily.

When you are an expat who has lived in the Middle East for four-plus years, there is a constant flow of people coming and going in your life. It is ever stretching, transforming. As I say, "You never know how long someone will be on your island." In sometimes brief interludes of time, you try to comprehend and grasp what you are supposed to learn from those people who are placed on the island with you. For most people, we relinquish many relationships because of time and distance. But not for him. No matter how long you have been on his island, he will remember and love you.

This past summer we went to St. Louis for a wedding. We raised our children there for many years so I tried to see as many people as possible. We went back to our old neighborhood and gazed at the home where we had all grown up. Elias pleaded to go to various neighbor's homes to visit them. He wanted to knock on every door and greet them. At first, I resisted. We didn't have that much time. There were events to attend and prepare for. But I agreed to let him walk around, knocking on doors, to see the faces from his old community, his old space of feeling loved.

I was a little ashamed of myself that I was initially hesitant about his request. Everyone wanted to see him, his growth, and the pure pleasure he had in seeing them. Again, I was reminded of the importance of the community I had loved and what was actually still very much a part of me. No matter which community I reside in, he teaches me to be an intentional rememberer--to try the best I can to bind and connect all those people I have loved. He is a benediction and a blessing to me every day.

Thanks for all the multitudes of communities in our pocket. Every one of you are remembered . . . and loved.

Some of the workers in our compound from Bangladesh and the Philippines who happened to be here on the day of his award. The Philippine man had been a Boy Scout in the Philippines and had even gone to the Philippine National Jamboree in the 1990's.

Never forget old friends...

Reunions in St. Louis

The old childhood friend who we found at the door in St. Louis. 

We went to visit beloved Dorothy who has loved and supported him all his life.

Janet, a friend, and teacher, who takes the time to teach Elias many things. In this picture, she is teaching him to play the game of Splendor.

At an art barn in the Tetons where Elias and I teach art to teenage boys. I am beyond grateful for the given gifts Elias's communities have given him.

Here in Doha making bubbles for a child here at the school where we teach art 

A community of people who love us and we love them here in Doha--at a school for children with disabilities. They are our people.

And of course, the community of people as in Where the Wild Things Are when "Max the kind of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all." That is the best kind of remembering... 

Elias' Art: Getting ready for his big exhibit

Art is something you breathe with a different kind of happiness.  --Anni Albers

The incredible Anny Ku from Kaohsiung, Taiwan who has lovingly, patiently taught Elias and me so much about art the past two years. She is a very gifted artist who paints scenes from all over the world, but mostly about Qatar where she has lived for 13 years. Anny Ku Artworks

Sometimes I wonder now what my life would be like if autism had not come on my path. But perhaps, the most important questions are, "Who are the people I would never have met?" So many mentors have almost magically appeared. Elias's first art teacher, Gabriel Deerman, saw more than a 12-year-old boy with autism in 2014 when Elias entered his class. Instead, he saw a boy who desperately wanted to create and connect. Perhaps, also, he saw a new expat mom who needed some sore assistance too. Blog about Creative Connections Since that time, art has gathered friends and brought purpose to a young boy (and a mom) over some difficult bridges. As I have said before, autism and adolescence are not an easy mix. The past four years have been more tranquil and joyful than, I believe, they otherwise would have been without creating art together.

Art has increased his self-confidence, purpose, and curiosity. Elias is willing to try any medium, any project. This summer he took up wood carving--with some kind mentorship.  He is always pushing to the next horizon with me panting, trailing behind. Ha! If I am honest, and I try to be, I know he has brought me, with his art, to other places and people I would have never seen. I know better now how to wait for the unfolding process of not only art but of life itself. I am more patient with the improvision--not expecting immediate results.

Indeed, there is a power and enfolding when we do art. We see again as children, in the splendor of all colors and textures. We again believe, if we ever forgot, that anything is possible. Every time we do a project, we create something new that has never been known before. We are reborn again and again--feeling the exhilaration and renewal of creating. We talk, answer questions to each other. Life and the world makes more sense.

Elias's art has reminded me that yes, he, as a kid with autism, has boundless possibilities. 

Doing work with Adell, curator of exhibits at the Fire Station in Gallery, who is helping Elias have an exhibit. If you live in Doha, you have to go to this place Adell has asked Elias to have his own exhibit this year so we are busily preparing and painting. Initially, I thought it would be too much for him to do an exhibit by himself--maybe share the spotlight? But Adell insisted that he wanted Elias to do a solo exhibit.

Here are are some older paintings from a few years ago. But just a sneak peek of a few that will be in his exhibit. We have a busy year ahead, for sure! 

First exhibit in May 2015 here in Doha at the Malthaf Museum. Encouragement of his first art teacher, Gabriel Deerman

He Lon Bay, Vietnam Painting a place we visited for Christmas three years ago with Seurat style dot painting. Questions as you paint, "Do you remember how big the mountains were? Do you remember the light shining in the ocean in the morning? Do you remember the caves in the mountains?

Qatar desert. Painting with texture and sand 

Qatar desert Questions: Tell me why you like living in Qatar. Let's learn about the animals that live there. What would it be like to journey in the desert long ago? 

Tossing Waves Questions: What does it look like under the water? Let's go and see some pictures. What colors and light are under the water? How is global warming affecting the ocean?

Beach Swirls--painting about 50 different small pictures turn into a mosaic. Lots of small pictures make the whole. Elias and I talk a lot when we paint--telling stories and asking questions. With the conversation and the image in front of him, he begins to understand and see the world in a deeper, more detailed way. For example, asking "Do people have a lot of parts in them? Do you have a lot of pieces and parts in you?"

Idaho/Utah Fall Aspen Trees
Asking questions like, "Did you know that the aspen trees feed and give nourishment to each other under the ground? They help each other to stand. Elias and I never tire of painting aspen trees, the trees that flutter in the wind.

A Raven--With Printmaking, done with his first teacher, Gabriel Deerman
Printmaking is always spontaneous. You watch and discover what appears on the page. A lot like life. We talk about that too.

Painting a commissioned painting for a friend in Utah

Keith Merkely with Elias in our "home" gallery."

Some fun ways Annie taught Elias how to mix various techniques

"Teton Spring"--A commissioned painting that now hangs in Utah

"All the Fruit to hold"