Market Day

Market day is my favourite day of the week. Something random or interesting always happens so I thought I should write a blog entry about a typical trip to the souk in Tafraoute.

We get up early and walk up to the road by 8am to wait for transport into Tafraoute. This is sometimes a bus that passes on its way south, sometimes a min-van or sometimes a taxi with 10 people crammed in the back on top of each other. We prefer the bus which is what we hopped on this morning as it slowed down just enough so that it was still moving but gave us time to jump on.

Upon arrival in Tafraoute we usually find a dustbin to dispose of our rubbish that accumulates over the week. There is no waste collection service in the valley so rather than throw it in the river bed like everyone else does we prefer to take it to Tafroute once a week. We then head to the souk to buy our fruit and veg. We usually buy a massive bag of veg for the equivalent of about £1.50 and various dried pulses and spices. Today we bought a 3.5kg squash for 80p!! We’re going to carve it into a lantern for Halloween. Then we head up to a café at the top of town where Stacey usually sits writing postcards and getting chatted up by the locals while I go to find things like cheese and cereal. These things are a rarity and usually take a while to find but the shopkeepers are really friendly and I usually learn a bit of Tashleheet from them at the same time. Occasionally while we’re sitting in the café French tourists will come and chat to us. Today 3 french aid workers came to ask us whether there were any nightclubs in town! No such luck, there isn’t any alcohol within a 150km radius of Tafroute! They must have just arrived.

Once we’ve got everything we head back to the taxi rank usually bumping into a few people we know from the village on the way. We have to sit and wait until there are enough people wanting to go to Imin’Tizeght to fill a taxi. Moroccan transport is crazy and we never quite know what we’ll be in for on the trip back to the village. Today we got a lift with a guy who was taking an oven to someone in the village. The oven was wedged in his boot with more of it sticking out than in. We were wedged in the back as usual with a couple of women trying to talk to us in Tashleheet, fearing for our lives as the taxi driver navigated the numerous potholes in the single track road back to the village whilst turning round often to ask us questions in French. I’m always so happy when we arrive back at the village in one piece!