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Bhalil Crazy Moroccan village, where the colors are the rules

From Estonian  http://reisijuht.delfi.ee/news/news/poorane-maroko-kula-kus-varvid-on-ja-reegleid-ei-ole?id=73084089

Silvia Parman, editor of the travel guide
Travel guide editor,
02. December 2015 08:00
Moroccan village of Bhalil changes colors every corner and every year, the sight of clutter and misleads the winding streets and different levels in spite of its small size.

Ibrahim was waiting for us at the edge of the old town Bhalil. He looked like a homeless cat, as much as any one man can look like a cat.
Our driver stopped the car. Not to pat done, rather than finding one's way. Although only 1,500 people lived in Bhalil, all on one hill away the volumes and they had only one hotel guests, it was not easy to find a multilevel tänavatelabürindis. So a homeless cat vupsas your chance to see fast car in the front seat.

Booking.com was offered that same morning at four Bhalil single vacant room, and we have not begun to confidently book anything - certainly we can place himself appears, more better price.
Four rooms were really free, not to say that all the rooms were free. Only the green door of the tapping did not meet anyone. Somewhere in Morocco, but at least answered the phone call, the owner Kamal Ibrahim: "If I do an engine run now, I have three hours here!"

We seemed to be enough time to begin to get to know the village and its people. Fesist located 20 kilometers from Bhalil does not give no indication that somewhere nearby there is a modern big city offices, supermarkets, and an international airport.
Bhalil people are very conservative, they buy their food still alive in the market and prepare it according to old recipes, learn to sew traditional clothing and traditional occupations, and I do not represent any of them down, listening to music or browsing the western poetry, which is not rhyme.

But all this does not concern itself with their city. If you think of Miami Vice'i colors apart, and raise all those pink and yellow houses Moroccan village, let you have a little fade in the sun and put on sports cars and speedboats instead of donkeys to move, you can Bhalil.
As if that were not enough - Bhalil colors of each spring without any rules and taboos. One sunny day, the streets are filled with ladders and currently most favorable price, and men and women were värviämbritega võõpavad houses over the winter faded. Fuchsia, light violet, indigo blue, võilillekollaseks.
Of course, there is also the color of the non-disputed but kakeldud. Chefchaouen Morocco are blue, red, Marrakech, Asilah white, blue-white Essaouira - cities, whose colors bring generous place for tourists and observant artists who are famous for talking and paint. The course is also Bhalil people wanted one, and its color. But the meeting of the village, which belongs to the neighboring Istiqlali parter calls for the party's flag colors pale pink city, Environment and Development, the Green Party members röögivad protection, a shopkeeper in favor of the Democratic Party, Vande red, ended with everything remained as always.

As a quick review is in fact a half hour longer than the allotted time, and so were the key before the arrival of the hotel near the back. The sky without warning, pulled a gray donkey from somewhere and came to the cold wind.
Same suddenly appeared in the neighboring house of Fatima, like warm bread oven and an open, caring, and pushed us into one hole in the wall of blue light. Fatima, her husband, and at least four children home consisted of a tiny kitchen, floor to ceiling kõrguvatest clothes stuffed with shelves and a large bed tekikuhilaga of our arrival began to move. Fatima then grabbed two and wrapped us in these emerging, while under a pile of opened up her husband's eyes, looking at us for a moment not so warm. But it certainly was not our revelation to the edge of his bed with something so extraordinary, that the day would come to interrupt sleep.

However, it was pleased to see him, because after Ibrahim had not seen any of the men in the streets, we Bhalil. Our concerns had not yet been replaced by astonishment. We did not realize that when warmer half of the year of construction and agriculture can work out, is not looking for men of your other activities. They just dig in unheated homes tekikuhjade down and waiting. Waiting for spring, northern Morocco Atlas Mountains lets itself always a long wait.
Only in the warm evening sun on the day they are suffering from the Friends a cup of tea, and then disappear again.

Kamal, who apparently in violation of all the rules of the road finally arrived, it was quite a different tree. University gone to France, married and the couple moved there ten years behind Beatrice man was her husband a few years ago moved to the clear intention to open a hotel and do something every day in every season.

Ordinary Bhalil men differed even more, every day of the French consulate in Fes instead running Béatrice helped him take care of the household and guests fragile berberinaine Naima, a wonderful cook, who probably envied Kamali after each gurmeepealinna Fes Restaurant.
And although Kamali Beatrice was one of the family name, he had the same Naïmaga bathrobes and slippers.




Nahksusside sound, among the afternoon we walk at the corner tagalt appeared Ibrahim was not really probably the most common male. He was the village's Guide to poor tourists during the incredible perseverance we tried to offer its services to some of the caves carved into the sides of houses and the village brook display, completely ignoring the sights of the village as the only or the market. "No!" No Moroccan giidile stop light, it works like the color red bull.
Expected a small peace of the countryside still arrived only in the evening and Kamali Naïmaga hot cream soup, golden chicken, colorful vegetables and fruits, and sharing a traditional house Bhalil admiring your designs and wood carvings.
The latter gave us the knowledge that the village is one of the prominent man still - the carpenter, who in a few years has become the largest in Kamali assistant in the construction of the house as a best friend. Forties man thus suddenly became a coveted bachelor in the village. Not for long though, so the next day he was scheduled for a traditional celebration of the birth of the second child and a lamb slaughter festivity.
I wonder if the exotic guests to Bhalil belief to bring good luck, but a day later, we saw all the colors of the city has a completely different angle carpenter standing on the roof terrace of rich and one sheep looking at the truth.
There came to know that Bhalil silmapaisvaid houses not only in terms of its random colors, its spontaneity behind it is very thoughtful architecture. For example, the drain hole on the roof terrace, which is tightly pressed against each other in houses is the only suitable place veristamiseks sheep or chickens beheaded thrive ... what will happen probably more frequently than we would like to know.
Child birth seventh day organized party is still kind of a ghastly murder, it is a happy day when the daughter of the birth of a cut in the throat of one of the sheep - his son for two years - women hooted jauntily sing, children throng curiously giggling increasingly closer to young parents embrace each other happy, all of get plenty of light sweet tea and cookies.

All the streets of the city while looking for new quests softly against a rainbow-colored walls of the house quiet, a few bread from the oven and home tõttav woman to lurk somewhere in the corner behind the catch Ibrahim.

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