People of the Medina: A more personal look at Fes

As you may have noticed, this blog is mostly devoted to food, landscapes and cats. While these images may seem innocent, they’re actually evidence of a big problem I’ve been trying to deny when it comes to my photography.

Dear readers, I have a fear of rejection.

While I’m completely happy to take pictures of subjects like noodles and kittens, who probably couldn’t care less about their images being posted online, I’m deathly afraid of asking individuals who might say no.

A photojournalist whose work I admire very much recently pointed out that this fear is somewhat bulls***. She told me I needed to include more pictures of people in this blog and, to meet the journalistic code of ethics, ask their permission as well. So, in order to work on this fear and my fledgling Arabic, I decided to employ her suggestions on a weekend trip to Fes.

Here are my first attempts, dear readers: the Fes medina from a different perspective.

After spilling out of the Grand Taxi Saturday morning. T., E., Darling and I hangrily (scientific term) rushed to the nearest restaurant to avoid clubbing each other for the succulent meat we hide beneath smooth flesh. We found a BBQ joint rivaling Arthur Bryant’s, where we consumed kidneys and hearts. Here are the chefs who saved us from a gruesome fate.

At Fes’s hillside medina, the friendly A. crushed sugar canes and lemons for us to drink.

Within the medina’s pinball hustle, a striped little boy enjoyed meeting a donkey.

A young merchant selling multicolored nougat and sesame seed candy fearlessly advertised his wasp nest (note: I did not ask him to do this).

And a woman hustled through a relatively deserted alley reminiscent of the Hodgson Burnett’s secret garden.

Next time, I will try to collect the stories of these individuals.

If you have any questions or suggestions regarding visuals or text, please let me know!

Also, for Game of Thrones fans: how many houses are represented in the bronze knockers below?