Marrakech can’t breathe without you

Marrakech can’t breathe without you

I MISS YOU! This is the echo of each corner, each alleyways of the Medina and every Riad’s patio. The Medina of Marrakech misses the sound of the tourists' feet, the multi-language whispering and the most commonly expression “BALAK BALAK” used by the luggage-cart pusher that replace the car horn inside the Medina.

There is no sound louder than the sound of prayer in Jemaa El Fanaa Square, and nothing except silence dances on the rhythm of emptiness, There is no odor smells here rather than the aroma of your love, no tales narrate here except the stories of your fear on me, you may be hurted by my gloomy picture without you. But, yes I’m Marrakech as you have not seen me before. You’ve been roaming among my Medina with its alleyways and enjoying my carnival night in Jemaa El-Fna Square, where musicians, acrobats, storytellers and slapstick acting troupes tap into the Medina frenetic pulse.

You’ve been millions of tourists but today I am crowded by emptiness. Perhaps you've never seen me with this quietness and depletedness but surely I am Marrakech nevertheless I am no more a “Land of God” as it’s indicted my Berber name. I am now a “Ghost Land”. I am no more the Red City for, since this Pandemic, I am living darkness without you so that I can’t see my natural red ochre pigment that bedecks my walls and buildings.

You have become a silhouette, as if you walked from a photograph and left behind blackness. There is an ache that comes and goes, always returning in quiet moments. I want so much to keep you among my Medina walls and into my shapely and comely Riads’ rooms, to huge you, host you, talk and laugh like we always did and I know that your absence is down to me. Please understand that nothing good can come of this right now and I'd rather take the pain sooner than later. Maybe in a few weeks or months we can be together again, close, happy... Then we can have something that is actually good, that has a chance of lasting. I see you everywhere, in the medina, in the square of Jemaa El-Fna, in the alleyways.

The passage of time can dull many things, allow the brain to redirect, reinvest energy elsewhere. In your tough times know that I miss you, that I’ll be here if you ever want to visit, to have fun and to enjoy my climate, but for now our paths diverge and every step is heavy, and I hope this Pandemic vanishes sooner than later.

Please keep your Cheerfulness and be patient, be safe, with you the square will be larger, the tales will be interesting and the Medina life will be back.

I can't wait to see you again.