A Glance At The Future
Written by Youssef Arrouss
It was almost 8 o'clock p.m when our hotel mini-bus arrived at Jama El Fna.The trip from Palmeraie Golf Palace hotel to the place did not last very long. Since I am Moroccan, it was not, of course, the first time for me to be at Jama El fna. I was once here when I was a child, but I could not remember it well. The image of the place in my memory completely faded away like a thousand of images I saw during my childhood. "What time would you like me to pick you up, sir?" the driver nicely asked me. Indeed, I wanted to take my time to explore the place. "11:00 p.m will be a suitable time for me", I replied. "Thank you in advance", I added.
It had been warm and sunny since the morning, but it became a bit cold and the wind was gently moaning now. Jam El Fan, however, had already been flooded with people from different countries and they were still more coming from various directions as if a multi-racial, pre-arranged meeting would take place in the coming minutes. I stepped into the crowd so cautiously and anxiously, trying to get familiar with the place. Wherever I moved my eyes, all I could see were musicians, itinerant dancers, acrobats, jugglers, snake charmers, medicine men, storytellers and soothsayers. Gnawa music all what came into my ears. The power of the rhythm offered me a free tour into The African history where this type of music was a common feature of the religious rites in the primitive tribes.
The smells of different Moroccan dishes unconsciously took me to a continuous row of food stalls surrounded with wooden benches and tables where a countless number of people were busy eating unaware of the passers-by. The place was filled with the grilling smoke of different types of fish, chicken, meat and other things. Nearby each stall, there was a smiling waiter whose job was to attract mainly tourists to his stall. As soon as my eyes met theirs, they kept inviting me to join them, using phrases from different languages. I heard "bienvenue, monsieur!" or "welcome, sir". The smell of Harira was irresistible, so I headed for a stall where I helped myself with two bowls of Harira to stave off my hunger pangs. Not very far away from those stalls, there were some modern restaurants in which a tourist would think he was in one of the most luxurious restaurants in London. Those restaurants and stalls added special spices to the beauty of the place. On Jama El fna square, there is, certainly, a happy marriage between modernity and traditions.
Buying souvenirs is customary in Jama El Fna, so I kept rambling through the very narrow alleys, attempting to find something beautiful but cheap for my friends and family. On both sides, there were numerous small shops selling antiques, leather sandals, hand-made carpets, traditional clothes, sliver jewelleries and other fascinating items. While jumping from one shop to another, doing my best to bargain for a good price, an old man stopped me. He was a tall, thin man wearing a dirty, woolly, white Jalaba. It was quite obvious that both poverty and age had allied against him and bowed his back so badly. Nevertheless, his oval, tanned face with piercing, large, brown eyes and gray goatee implied reverential awe. Without uttering a single word, he softly took my hand and started looking at my palm. "You are Stubborn", he said. "Excuse me, sir", I tremblingly said. He looked at me with a frown face and explained "When you want to do something there is no power on Earth that can stop you, and when you don't want to do something there is no power on Earth that can make you do it". I confusedly said "Yes, this is very true". He smiled and said "The good news is you will want to do a lot of things this week". This was the first time for me to meet a real fortune-teller. All my knowledge about them was what I saw in movies which I always doubted and what I read in books. He asked me "You are still single, aren't you?". "Yes, I am", I replied. "You are dating a girl and you love her very much, don't you?", he asked me. "Yes, that's right", I replied hesitatingly. After an intent look at my palm, he said in a sad voice "Unfortunately, she does not love you". Even if I never believed fortune-tellers, I kept listening to him carefully. "This unhappy relationship will end soon, but do not worry, my son, you will be approached by a very pretty, tall girl who will truly love you", he cheerfully said. He frowned again and said "There are many enemies around you and some of them are disguising in friendship". "What are their names?", I hurriedly asked. He ignored my question and added "Be careful!!! Do not trust all your friends". A skillful fortune-teller usually tells only what people wish to hear. This was exactly what happened to me because what the entire fortune teller told me easily found a way to my heart. He opened his hand as a gesture to ask for money in return for his service. I gave him some coins which were in my pocket and he disappeared in the crowd, trying to find another client.
I stood for some moments thinking about what the fortune-teller told me and got into a shop where I bought two pairs of leather scandals for my friends, hoping they were not from the foes the fortune-teller had just told me about. When I looked at my watch, it was already 12:00 p.m, so I knew that I had already missed the hotel mini-bus. I wished the fortune-teller had told me about that as well so as not to spend a lot of money on a taxi fare.
© Youseff Arrouss
