September 22, 2014
Feel A Little Sick And Sickened
I hadn't planning on stopping in Marrakech, but I liked the idea of keeping this journal updated. So that's what I was doing on Sunday, only breaking off at eleven to go out for breakfast, returning an hour later to pick up where I left off. I was doing well and saw myself finishing by evening to get back on the road Monday, when around four o'clock I began feeling extremely thirsty.
I had no water. The tap water I don't trust and I hadn't drank anything since breakfast. The greasy taste of crepes clung in my mouth and strong coffee worsened my thirst. Soon I began feeling unwell. Feeling like throwing up.
Once I'd vomited I thought about what I had eaten while feeling well again. The place where I had eaten breakfast seemed the culperate. There was a sour milk taste from the crepes and the premises was a little messy. Then I stopped at a second place along the street for another crepe as I was still hungry. This place seemed clean. I came to the conclusion what made me sick was an accumulation of salt coupled with not drinking enough water leading to dehydration and three cups of strong coffee at breakfast-time aggravated the feeling of unwellness.
I put the computer by for the day; unable to concentrate anymore as the unwell feeling returns and soon I'm throwing up again.
Later before nightfall I feel okay for a walk to see what there is to see in Marrakesh. The streets in the old town are narrow alleyways lined with kiosks, craftshops and eating places milling with people and the buzz of scooters sharing the same meagre walkway, precariously swerving and weaving around the walkers. I instantly felt contempt for the place. I didn't go far as with scooters brushing by, feeling dizzy again with stomach churning Is going to throw up again.
I return for a longer walk today after finishing the journal update, loosing myself in the latrine of alleyway streets and having constant annoying characters call out "sir!...the square is this way". I'm not looking for the square, well I am. I've seen enough of these filthy backstreets and having to blank the various huslers trying to get money off me. I pause at a corner opening into a small square concluding the square cannot be this way and before I turn back I hear Mister! Mister! Not again. The man follows me down the street. When I pause at the next corner he's at my side and with a toothless mouth tells me the square is back this way, the way I intuitively know it isn't. Then he holds out his hand for money for telling me. I get the impression of going back a hundred and eighty years to a London street scene from Dickens. Sir! Could you spare us some change sir? Be off with you urchin!
In the main square I had seen the chilling sight of snake charmers yesterday and today I just wanted a photo from afar, but no sooner do I crouch down than a man approaches and abruptly wants money for doing so. I wave him off. I'm not contributing to cruelty. Not only do I see them throwing the snakes around like a piece of meat, but apparently they stitch the mouth so the snake can no longer bite leading to premature death.
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