A House in Fez

I have wanted to visit Fez since seeing a brightly colored photograph in a travel magazine some years back (probably more like 10 years, but I can’t remember exactly!) My enjoyment of armchair travel books and my interest in Morocco pushed me toward this book. The author, Suzanna Clarke, and her husband Sandy decide (sort of on a whim really) to buy a riad, a traditional house, in Fez, Morocco. I love these kinds of books where the author goes on a life-changing journey like Clarke did. I have to admit though, that it makes going to Morocco seem a little more daunting to me. The fact is: I don’t have the personality to deal with all the frustrations and bureaucracy that seem to be the norm. Now, in the Q&A at the end of the book, Clarke does make a good point – there is bureaucracy in every country. True. I guess I just feel like any sort of crap I run into here is different because I’m at home or in the case of Europe, somewhere like home. Yeah I know, that’s not a great excuse. I am not saying that bureaucracy here is better than in Morocco – just different and easier for me to handle. And the truth is, as much I love to travel I can honestly say I’m not sure I’m really that adventurous in my travel. I could probably handle a week in Fez and that’s only if I am a mere tourist (which I would be) and didn’t need to do anything such as deal with a lost passport or something like that.

Now, my opinion on some of the “book group” questions at the back of the book:

The issue of Clarke’s wealth relative to that of the locals: Clark mentions feeling guilt about her financial situation. I think at times she is taken advantage of because she is a foreigner and has more money in comparison to her neighbors. She and her husband are not wealthy, and reading the Q&A at the end of the book cements the fact that a lot of their worth went into restoring the riad to its former glory. I would be interested to find out if other foreigners that were undertaking similar projects had to pay as much as she did for some things, such as the engineers letter – a simple piece of paper – for the dreaded roqsa (permit for renovation.) Numerous times throughout the book the author reminded herself (and the readers) that while their wages didn’t seem a lot to us, many of her workers were making more than their average monthly salary from just one day’s pay from her.

The use of inshallah, and the Western equivalent: I’m not sure that the West has an equivalent to “inshallah” except for ‘what will be, will be.” In the West though, a carpenter or plumber would not get away with this as an excuse for not showing up and doing the work. I felt like for all the poverty and desperation for work, that those who were getting it would be more grateful for it. This wasn’t the case though with some of the skilled craftsmen working on her house (not to include the staff that helped her on a daily basis). I felt like “inshallah” was really just an excuse for whenever the craftsmen found something better to do with their time. And it seemed very unprofessional to me that the craftsmen would just drop one job for another, supposedly better, job whenver it came along. I guess for all the desperation for work, I can understand why some of the craftsmen had several jobs lined up, but they still needed to manage their time better. That’s where I think inshallah just becomes an excuse because they are not planning their time out.