It’s 1:38 pm and I’m sitting in the main room of a riad in Chefchaouen. It’s Friday and there is a very melodic sound going all over town through loud speakers. It’s one of the six muslim prayers taking place every day.
But Friday seems special more than other days for some reason that I ignore.
I’m sat on a traditional Moroccan couch almost down to the ground. Arabic singing all around town from this spot is quite hypnotising…makes me wonder.
There’s one main male voice singing all along, while many other voices are following behind, and from many different corners. I don’t see any of them, I just sense them as I close my eyes.
The ambience is quiet and still. Stores in the crazy Souik centre of town are mostly closed. Now I understand why.
Life seems to go on normally, but prayers definitely make locals stop in their own privacy. Streets are full of mostly tourists having late moroccan breakfasts or early lunch.
A long siren makes it way through the ancient walls of this blue maze. The strong male voice in charge of the main prayer is now gone quiet after ten minutes. A lower choir of hundreds of voices can still be heard following the arabic sounds.
It’s 1:48 pm now. Ten minutes have gone by. Wind is chilly but the day is warm, skies are blue and sun is strong. It’s a calm day.
Morocco seems to vow down in devotion and respect.
I’m just an observer, or more of a listener instead, while sitting at the central patio of my riad as the arabic prayers take place.
There’s something calming about this all. It eases you. In surprise. In wonder. In curiosity. In questions and more. I later learned that Friday is the most important day of the week, like Sunday is for Christians.
It’s 1:54 pm already. I keep listening and I can’t stop thinking and enjoying it in my own way.
Morocco seems quite an interesting mix of places.
That’s how you learn travel is a real deal changer.