City planning seems to be an intrinsic art, as across the globe structures are always repeating. For a stranger in a strange land, this comes in handy — where ever it is that you are, you can always go to the city center, or the historic core and work your way out from the inside, often following the path of progress and history. In Morocco, and in most North African and Arabic countries, the central, and oldest (often walled) part of the city is called the Medina, meaning, literally “town.” The benefit of being at the heart of the city ends there, because as soon as you set off into the jungle of the medina you’re as good as lost.

Moroccan medinas in Fes and Marrakech date as far back as the 9th century and were built in an additive fashion. Buildings came and went, mosques were built, expanded and rebuilt upon, and the streets continued to get smaller and narrower, losing any semblance of a grid or structural layout. Alleys snake off in a meandering fashion, only loosely suggesting their compass heading. Maps are absent, not by oversight, but rather by impossibility. Even from above, the city hides many lanes and passes — the Saadian tombs of Marrakech were discovered only recently, as an English byplane pilot saw from above a courtyard that had been walled in and forgotten by it’s very neighbors.

The largest medina in the world is in the city of Fes, and has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is the best preserved, continuously inhabited, medieval city still in existence — a self-contained world of schools, mosques, workshops and day to day bustle.

Islamic Mosques shepherd the people with calls to prayer heard 5 times a day, starting at dawn. Speakers mounted to minarets (where muezzin once would shout instead) blaze with the Adhan in a slight song.

Sadly, these places of worship — often the most beautiful destinations in the city — are closed to non-Muslims in Morocco. Visitors can admire from the doorways and nearby rooftops, but visits are forbidden.

Islam is taught at a Medrasah, and each medina boasts several. The Medrasah is sometimes open to the public, and in Fes the Bou Inania Madrasah boasts some of the most lavish decoration.

The heartbeat of the medina is hard-working souk where craftsmen work on countless varieties of goods. A world of plenty is available to purchase, and entire days can be spent wandering the maze of vendors, workers, shops and stalls.

Carpets, spices, meats, metals and leather abut in a organized chaos. Crafts are segregated into souks (markets) — a henna souk, a spice souk, leather souk, and on. To us it was almost a shock to see how many things are made here, by the hundreds and often by children. We have seen these goods for sale as far as Mexico, and certainly throughout all the markets of Europe.

Repurposed inns called Fondouks house many of the skilled laborers, working on punching metal for lamps, stretching skins for drums, cutting leather for slippers, and urging you to view their stacks of carpets.

Every second boy in the medina will offer you an escort to the tannery, though your nose will very likely guide you as well. Pigeon shit is used in the leather curing process, which must be done very quickly following the skin’s removal from the animal.

The “removal” area is a bit hairy, we think we knew where it was, but didn’t think it needed to be captured forever in photographs. The smell is pretty crazy, especially in the heat of the city.

Once the hides have left the curing soak, they are free from flesh and hair and ready to be tanned and dyed. The tanneries of Fes have used only natural dyes for hundreds of years to produce a near rainbow of hues, but with modern times some chemical dyes have been introduced as well. The labor has remained the same, while workers are at greater risk from the new materials.

The tanneries, or Chouara, in Fes are likely the most photographed in the medina. Mostly unchanged through six centuries the tannery covers about one traditional city block with a honeycomb expanse of soaking and dyeing wells. A large leather souk naturally surrounds the tannery area, and shops closest to the site will allow you views from their balconies (for a small tip or purchase).

A traditional residence in Morocco is called a Riad. These palatial homes center around a interior patio or garden, and rise up many stories. These oases splendidly decorated in cedar and zellige tiles are unknowable from the outside. Islamic tradition dictates keeping the home’s exterior simple.

Rough walls and uneven windows often open up into incredible restaurants and hotels housed in former riads.

Though the medinas of North Africa are a world away from traditional city planning, Marrakech boasts a traditional, large central square — the Djemaa el Fna. Here orange juice vendors shriek for your attention (about 40 cents a glass!), storytellers mystify crowds and snake charmers scare passerby.

Dentistry on the square

If you are imagining a circus, you wouldn’t be far off. At night hundreds of food stalls enter the mix. All the while the square is criss-crossed by kamikaze scooter traffic and horse and carriage tours.

Everything is closer than usual in the medina. Work is close to the final product, people are close to one another, and the walls lean in. People speak their mind here. We received warm invitations, cultural slurs, questions and many requests. People are constantly speaking their minds.

A nearing election has decorated many of the medina walls with a numbered grid, filled with symbols representing campaigning parties. As best as we could assess, communities would fill in the local party’s symbol to show popularity in that particular area.

The ville nouvelle

The contrast between the old and new city in Morocco – the medina and the ville nouvelle — is a shock. We wondered how many people straddle this divide on a daily basis, and if it is even possible to exist in both simultaneously… it would be a type of time travel.

The medina is a destination in and of itself, it is the setting and purpose of most tourist visits to Morocco. However, with being denied entry into mosques, and the overall deterioration and lack of care faced by other cultural sites, the medina is often the be-all-end-all of our sightseeing. And for what purpose? To shop? Mostly, that is what the medina offers outsiders.

Goods are cheap, albeit that extends to the quality as well. We purchased a beautiful silk bedspread and large military-style leather duffel. The silk was a stellar deal, but the leather bag reeks of dead animal.

It wasn’t easy to avoid shopping: we wanted to see the craftsmen, take pictures of the daily grind… but beyond that, we weren’t able to get through to the secret life of the medina. We found so many doors closed, so many words misunderstood and a universe living somewhere outside the current struggles of the economic crisis — the walls of the medina have kept much of time and the world out.