Touring Morocco means spending long hours looking up, because the Islamic
architects that crafted Morocco's most dramatic cities carried their talents
high up into the sky in the form of splendid minarets. In fact, were looking
up not so dangerous - it seems like every time I lifted my head I narrowly
escaped being run over by a donkey bearing goods down the cities' narrow
streets - I would have spent more time admiring the delicate craftsmanship that
makes Moroccan cities such a pleasure to experience.
We started with Morocco's newest but most starkly dramatic minaret, the Mosque
Hassan II, at 200 meters, the tallest minaret in the world. After visiting so
many gorgeous cathedrals and monuments throughout Europe, all of which date
from another era, it was amazing to tour a structure that was built during my
lifetime (in fact, since I graduated from university) and will some day,
centuries from now, be an "old" monument for tourists of another generation to
gape at.
The Koutoubia mosque in Marrakesh was stunning because of its architectural
simplicity but its stark elegance, particularly against the backdrop of a deep
blue, winter sky. Dating back to the Almohid period of the 12th century, it
was pleasing to think the grace and elegance of that minaret has remained
unchanged through the centuries, and it was easy to imagine what it must have
looked like centuries ago, as one approached the walled city on horseback.
In Fes, it was nearly impossible to get a clear glimpse of either the minaret
of the Kairaouine Mosque or the Medersa Bou Inania, given the narrow, winding
streets and the short vantage points. But it was exciting to see them above us
over the tiled roof line. But we did find, buried deep in the Medina of Fes el
Bali, a school of architecture, where modern Moroccan students studied the
dramatic Islamic architecture of centuries past and developed their own
creations, building on the past. Their models and projects were on display
throughout the old building, and encompassed architecture, wood carving,
stucco, and tilework. The building itself was a marvel of Zellij tile and
Kufic Arabic script.
The school of architecture reminded me of something that has quietly irked me.
While visiting the grandiose cathedrals and elegant medieval buildings of
modern Europe, I wonder if we are capable of still producing that kind of
architectural splendor. Do the masons, stone carvers, and carpenters even
exist today who can design and build with that sort of elegance? Modern
buildings are designed with much different goals (like plumbing and central
heating, both of which I encourage). In Fes, we met some of the designers who
would be responsible for ensuring the buildings of Morocco's future respect the
elegance and charm of Morocco's past.
Also appreciative of the high vantage points were the White Storks, which
didn't take advantage of the highest minarets, but which seemed to enjoy
setting up shop on a lot of the nation's other rooflines and peaks, including a
newish-looking condo facility we passed in the Atlas Mountain village of Azrou.
"Nice view ya got up here, don't mind if we stay!" The Stork doesn't represent
fertility to Muslims the way it does in Western culture, but as we are
expecting a child, seeing a stork around every corner was a whimsical reminder
that we will soon be traveling as three.
