Camels, Berbers and the Atlas Mountains

On Saturday, all seven of us went on an excursion outside the city to see a traditional Berber village and a waterfall. We piled into a van and headed west towards the foothills of the Atlas mountains (or was it south, or north, or east? I have no idea.) Our first stop was a dirt road off the main two-lane highway, where we were to ride camels. Camels are much calmer than horses and much more comfortable to ride. We went on a short ride along a dried up river-bed, took some pictures, bargained with the camel people on the price, and hopped back into the van. The next stop was a traditional Berber village in the mountains. The village was built into the side of the hills and the houses were made of dirt and cinder blocks. We got to go inside one of the houses, and it was just a few dark and dank rooms with uneven dirt floors. Only one of the room s had furniture in it, and one of the rooms held a cow and some hay. I didn’t see running water or electricity. We met the owner of the house and although he didn’t speak English, he was extremely friendly and welcoming. It’s crazy to think people actually live like that and are content with it. We are definitely spoiled in America.

We got further into the mountains, and the river bed started to contain water. We drove through the canyon that houses the river and all along the sides of the river were ”restaurants”; small buildings with tables outside all around them and all along the banks of the river. The area that we were in is a retreat for the people of Marrakesh—on hot days in the summer the banks are crowded with people who come to escape the city’s heat. The river is lined for miles with restaurants like this. We had lunch at one, with stray cats begging at our feet.

We arrived at our final destination where the highway ended—the first of 36 Berber villages that lines a walking path through the Atlas Mountains. We met a local guide who took us on a hike up to the waterfall. It turned out to be not much more than a small waterfall of about five feet, but I loved seeing a different side of Morocco. The path leading up to the waterfall was also lined with restaurants, some of which put tables and chair in the water so on really hot days a lucky few got to sit at those tables with their feet in the cool water. There were tubes hanging from the trees above our heads that carried water down to the villages, and the village had created aqueducts to carry the water down to the village as well.

On our way home our driver popped his favorite CD back into the stereo—it was an Arabic pop CD that contained four songs. We listened to that CD over and over the whole two-hour drive back to Marrakech, as we had the entire journey to the waterfall.

Pictures: Camel rides; me in the Atlas Mountains