June - September 2009 Part 2; Neighbours.

Fin and Fran...now you're neighbourly!

What can I say about neighbours that I haven’t alluded to before. Of course I’ve told you about Abdulla, but he’s only one of 11 houses that neighbour Tazi, several, tho not all of whom have proved to be utter bastards.

When buying and rebuilding a house in Fez medina, and I assume any others, the building is, to be honest, probably the easiest bit, what really breaks your balls, is the attitude , clamouring, screaming, banging, complaining, maliciousness, and, as we’ve experienced on several occasions, downright aggression of your neighbours.

It’s amazing the difference between the attitudes of the neighbours at Tazi and down in Bab El Guissa, where 813, our home to be, is. There (at 813), an area that is significantly poorer, we haven’t had a complaint, and infact, ironically, it’s been me threatening to go to the Baladier about the building from another neighbour, Saida, who’s building a whole level on her house, of course without any permission!! That of itself isn’t a problem, only that part of their new terrace is very close to ours…so we’ve talked and they’ve agreed to make sure this isn’t a prolem..OK, watch this space, but still, all very amicable.

I was going to say that the main effect is that an area where there are many westerners (gaories in deriga..maroccan Arabic), is for prices of other houses to rise and for neighbours to become greedier. But at 813, we are neighboured by two gaouries, there’s another two in our street and 3 – 4 more within spitting distance, and our neighbours there couldn’t be nicer. If there is a problem they come and talk to me. I’ve barely seen the Mkadum, and the Caid …who’s the caid?
But up on Zkak Rouah it’s a totally different story.

At Tazi the main culprits have been our largest neighbour, that used to be adjoined to our house and was thus part of three large houses that made up the palace of Pasha Tazi, we call them Shameless, after the UK TV series based in Manchester. Anyone who knows the series, might get an impression of who or what I am alluding to!.

Shameless threw this grill on to our workers. Previouslythey've thrown bricks and threatened acid! Nice!

At the peak of the rush to buy in Fez, they were offered E300K for their house, they wanted 350K and so the gravey train rolled past. Now instead of being filled by wealth, there’s 56 people living in it, all with one tap for water and a huge chip on the shoulders of the three main owners.

As I've said we've had Abdellah and of course there is the Screamer..Fatima, who does exactly that...SCREAMS..now matter how you negotiate with her, what time you try to start or stop work...she screams. Fortunately I don't understand, but the guys say it..well, less than polite!

813, is so different to Tazi in so many ways. She's certainly a less complicated build, but it's not just that, the neighbours are much nicer, even though the neighbourhood is much poorer. It’s almost the opposite of Tazi, as I end up giving things to people who are so flexible it at times feels embarrassing.

Drains can tell alot about a place!

Fatima (not to be confused with Screamer), who lives at the end of our little derb at 813, has a house that has literally been constructed out of bits and pieces, many of which are being recycled out of what is coming out of ours, tiles, wood, metal..the odd bag of cement!. It was never part of the original medina and may have once been a garden. When we moved in …well we haven’t moved in yet, rather when we started building, she had had her sewage blocked by another neighbour and had sewage rising daily in to her house.

I asked why she didn’t complain to the authorities and had it explained to me that as an old, poor woman she held no chance of influencing anyone with authority to take her seriously.

We looked at what we could do for her as we also needed to divert our pipes. We managed to organise several households to agree to share costs of fitting pipes to support a new sewage system that would benefit everyone. However this needed to go in to the house of the neighbour who had blocked her outlet.

Now that's what I call a shitty derb...cleaning the drains!

Now this guy, Hassan, was another screamer, like Shameless. I went to see him to discuss the possibility of passing our derbs sewage pipes to connect with his system and for 30 minutes the man shouted at me…until I said I had to leave, being unable to cope with his onslaught. His wife explained he was highly strung, but a good man.

We all agreed that the “community” would pay to repair all work done in his house. He however, stated that he had no confidence in the “community”, but would agree only if I guaranteed the work and agreed to leave all the materials in his house from the outset. I refused, in part because I didn’t trust him to not take the materials and then create some sort of problem with the work (sounds terrible I know…but it’s far from uncommon…never do anything upfront, is now my motto), tho I couched it in terms relating to community spirit; “it’s not up to me”…

”No Mr Paul, you don’t understand, these Moroccans are snakes, they will never keep their word..you will see, I only trust you.”

“But you don’t know me!”

I spoke to the heads of all the five house holds involved, some agreed to provide piping, or cement or the zelige (tiles) to recover hassan’s floor, and so, with Hassan still very reluctant, we proceeded.

Men at work...in shit!

The work went well and in a couple of weeks we had dug through the channels, laid the pipes, connected all house holds and cleared the rubbish from our streets. I went away for a few days thinking it was a job well done only to return to Hassan screaming over the terraces at me.

What has happened?

He explained that once everyone had had their sewage connected, no one had finished the work in his house, that he now had a patio filled with earth from the original sewage, rats coming up from the old system and no one had relain his zelige. I went to find those who had said they would guarantee this work and all were absent or made vague promises. In the end, embarrassed by how we had left Hassan I sent over my workers and tiles I’d taken up from tazi, to complete the job.

“You see”, Hassan told me in volumous tones, as he shared dinner with me, the repairs now completed, “never trust a Moroccan, they lie, they are all snakes.”

It’s not the first time I’ve been told that by a Moroccan and I personally would have to disagree, having met some truly lovely people, but, as they say…where there’s smoke…….!!!!!
Decapeurs.

These guys are carrying on nicely, but they are taking far longer than we originally agreed. Of course it's difficult to assess exactly how long a piece of work will take, but at this rate it will be months. But when it's finished it looks great. I'm really looking forward to getting it finished.

Zelig.This didn't really get started until the end of July! So much for the flying start. haj had to go to a few other jobs (hope that doesn't bode badly) and bringing in and mixing the hirsch again was a major big deal. It's amazinbg how much of this stuff you get thro.

In honesty we also had to complete the work on the terraces. Driss has build a great BBQ which I hope we'll get to use asap...tho probably next year now. He also martobbed the terraces. martob is another lime/sand mix, but the lime is sieved as is the sand and depending on the mix ratio, you get a lovely fine finish to the external walls. There are so many layers to this house. I've decided to leave open a piece of the wall in the etage so that you can see the work under neath it. It looks beautiful. I hope it works and isn't another botched idea!

Do I have botched ideas? ..Here's one then, our shower fed plant beds at 813

On top of this we've also been working on both top and bottom kitchens as well as putting in plant beds on the terrace. The idea of these beds is that they are fed by shower water in the summer. Obviously this means that you can't wash in the shower, but in the summer what you want is to just rinse off, so this should work. I keep trying to think through "eco ideas". I wanted to have sink water feed in to toilets in the bathrooms, but the units were all in the wrong place. However this is a good start and we'll have to do a total audit for what we put in to xaouen.

Tazi.
At Tazi things are ticking over slowly. We've had Mohammed Teeth working on his own, which he loves, just gratting bits and pieces nd managing the plants. However now we've recruited another small team. Mohammed (old...there are so many Mohammed's it's ridiculous) and M'hamid (did you see the difference) a new Mwalem. He sounds good, let's hope he is. M'hamid is supposed to be a master at Martob and Madloup (fassi tadlakt). There's a ton of both to do at tazi so good luck to him.
Out of work.
It's summer and thus there are things afoot. You've been to a party at your crech, which was VERY LOUD and which people just took too seriously, especially the teachers who wondered why two year old kids weren't performing the birdy song (yes it's true...in Deriga) they'd practiced during crech, in front of hoards of camera totting adults!

We went to a great birthday party at jess's. what an event. She's a great woman Jess, very good fun, very special. She had a local womans' band that you loved and lots of dancing and wiggling. Unfortunately the female cook got too stoned and dinner came out closer to midnight. But it was an excellent evening, thanks Jess.

As for Fez, well it's getting bloody hot, of course and I love it. as is our won't clothes are strictly for out doors. There's been some incredible storms recently, which have cleared the air, though, as you can see from the pic...it needed some clearing!!.

XXX my boy, loads of love to you.

June - September 2009 part 1; Abdullas' story.

As ever this has been difficult, writing up that is…well as John, an artist friend said when visiting 813 this morning, “nothing’s easy here in Fez”, and of course that’s absolutely true…nothing’s easy, and yet here we are, and we are achieving, advancing, completing…well I hope so, that or I’m moving in to complete dilusion, which is also possible!

It's been really difficult trying to keep the idea of this blog alive. Of course it’s not that nothing’s happened in the time we've been doing this, far from it, it’s just that I’ve found that at the end of another day rebuilding 2 ancient houses, raising you and sustaining a marriage, all new adventures and journeys for me, it's far easier to zone out, watch rubbish dvds or cook, eat and snooze.

And that has been a genuine and constant regret, that so much of this story has potentially been lost. Daily, weekly, monthly there’s been that nagging that I need to write it all up, to record it for us to remember, to not forget what we put ourselves through, what we overcame, what we achieved, and how really difficult it is, and yet how much fun also.

And I'm not alone in being knackered! Mum takes a break.

How many great people we have met, which is not to ignore the absolute bastards that have also been out there, with psychopathic intention to do us harm, to fleece us, to screw anything possibly from us, and all because we might have something more than them, that we might be an opportunity to fleece, because they are bastards, and that is what bastards do.

Mates...yup, you need them here!...off with a gang at Barrage El Fassi.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter and twisted…or at least not too bitter and twisted, I hope. We have many good friends here, people mostly who have taken a plunge to make something out of investing in Morocco, in Fez. There’s a real community of expats, who help each other, but it’s so much better than when we first arrived, when it was cold, you were so sick and we had no friends (Paully N O’ Mates..by any other name!). That makes such a difference, that you can phone people up and go for a drink, for a meal, a quiet rant about a bad day.

Building during Ramadan in Fez.

Well it’s currently the second day of Ramadan, which is the holy month of fasting during the hours from sun rise to sun set. I’ve spent Ramadan in many Muslim countries, Sudan, Somalia, Zanzibar, Pakistan, but it’s here that I am really feeling the challenge that faces the millions undertaking it.

Zeliging the top top terrace at 813..in 45 degrees heat..during Ramadan!

It’s been averaging 45 degrees for months, it rose to 50 for one or two days, but generally it’s been sitting around the high 40’s. As Ramadan neared, it has been impossible not to consider how our workers and everyone else would cope with the heat, such long days, and fasting.

The sun rises currently at approximately 03.30 and sets again at about 19.00, which leaves approximately 16 hours of fasting. Even at night I sit here, pouring with sweat and literally pouring liquids in to myself in a vain attempt to quench an all encompassing thirst. My sheets are soaked throughout the night, I peel myself from the sofa each time I get up to get another drink. Here, in our flat in the new town, by myself, or with Beccie, it’s normally a case of walking in the door and stripping off…clothes are strictly a visiting times only restriction!

Not that I would assume that any Morrocan would behave in such a way.

Driss and Said...was it something that I said!?

However whilst we’ve tried to ensure that most of our work during Ramadan is inside, and whilst the houses in the medina regulate heat much more efficiently, there’s no hiding from it.

It’s amazing how the houses work within the seasons. In winter the houses are warmer at the top and thus families traditionally moved up the house to benefit from the heat provided by the rising of hot air and insulation from the thickness of the walls, neighbours and the building materials of earthen bricks, sand, lime and plaster.

In summer, the patio is by far the coolest part of the house and you can tangibly feel the changes in temperature as you move from bottom to top. Thus in summer families moved back down the house.

Workers oiling wood inside 813.

In our flat in the Ville, despite it being spacious and having a wonderful view of Ave Hassan 2, with it’s colonnades of palm trees, strings of lights and myriad fountains and water features, as well as the medina and Mount Zalagh, being made of red brick and concrete, and having large outside walls, it’s freezing in winter and roasting in summer. That’s not to complain, at approx 300 euros a month, it’ll do until we get in to 813, but it’s a sorry reflection on the developments of building.

But I digress……

Anyway we have tried to ensure that our workers are inside for Ramadan, but unfortunately for a number of reasons that hasn’t worked out as we’d have liked.

At Tazi I negotiated with Abdulla, one of our neighbours, that we’d grat (pick the covering off the) exterior walls, and cover them with hirsch (rough lime and sand mortar) and finally martob (a fine lime/sand mix) before Ramadan. We’d discussed this previously when we’d worked on the inside of his house.

Unfortunately due the flooding this year, that saw heavy rain fall almost daily from October to March/April, and the incompetence of our “plumber” at the hotel/Tazi, a man most appropriately named “Twatty”, not only did this flood the house, leading to the collapse of our first floor passageway, but the inundation of water through our unfinished drainage system, led to Abdullas’ salon walls getting soaked, and the ceiling of the neighbours that we wanted to buy, collapsing.

Thus chez Abdulla, we gratted and re covered with plaster and tiles his whole ground floor. As I say, during this time I negotiated with him that we would also grat, hirsch and martob the exterior walls, which very much benefited him, but also us. We agreed and I thought that was it…................................ Wrong.

Gratting and hirsching Abdellas.

As we finished hirsching his walls, Abdulla suddenly came in with a claim for us to add a sun shade on to his terrace, as we would have guests in the hotel that would look on to his roof, stare at his wife, invade his privacy. I refused, saying that hadn’t been in the agreement and that if he wanted to put up a covering, given that we had completely rebuilt the ground floor of his house, he could pay for it himself. Again I left thinking that was it………

Wrong again!

Now throughout this time we’d been working without building authorisation (Roxa), for no other reason that it had run out and I hadn’t had it renewed. There have been times when I’ve worked on both houses without any authorisation and generally these have been because we were doing something that I didn’t want the Baladier (the office that gives building permission) to see.

So at Tazi when we built the mezzanine and at 813, when we put in the plunge pool and raised the roof of the top kitchen, I simply told the guys not to let anyone in until we’d finish and to say that I’d said I’d sack anyone who did.

Of course the baladier came round, once with the Mkadum (Caid’s ears and eyes on the street) and Caid (government head of the quartier), and with me inside the house. The boys did well, but when they eventually did get in and a tour of the illegal building was undertaken I was pointedly told that I’d made approximately 1,000 infringements of the Roxa…and that this would …could .. be over looked, but that I’d have to, well play my part in reconciliation……

And so the next day I duly handed over a brown envelop, appropriately charged, and that, was that.

Sure beats building regs at Camden Council…and whilst the mirkiness of the lines of authority and authorisation can at times be frustrating, what it does mean is that generally, no doesn’t mean no, it means, try harder! If you see what I mean.

Anyway, I digress again…

For some reason, following this conversation with Abdulla, I decided to get the new roxa, and whilst doing so saw Abdulla in the Baladiers’ office. I didn’t think anything of it until a few days later by which time we’d gained our roxas. Beccie called me to tell me that the Baladier had come in to Tazi, had stated that complaints had been made by neighbours, that we had multiple examples of illegal building, there had been allegations of bribes and that they were now on our top terrace taking photographs of our guys working illegally on the neighbours house that we had only just bought and that we were in the process of illegally knocking down, or at least knocking in to such a state that the baladier would agree that it was an unstable ruin, and allow us to make it in to an external garden!
The kitchen at 813...part 1....nothing to do with Abdullah, just thought you'd like to see this!

Ouch…..caught in the act……but why the complaint and by whom…of course it was Abdulla.

We were instantly shut down, not that we actually ever stopped work, we just stopped all work on the outside and ..”made a noise quietly”..until we could sort the problem out.

But what a problem it proved to be. Of course I went to the Baladier who hung me out to dry and scorched my ears with crys of abuse and illegality. I apologised for creating any problems, which was sincere, and told them how we were only working on the newly bought neighbours because it was dangerous for our guys working on the external walls…which was less sincere, but gave a justification, which at times is all you need.

But nope, that didn’t wash…there was something much bigger, which I only found out when I went to see the Caid and Mkadum, who told me that this had gone as far as the Pasha and Walli, the biggest two cheeses in Fez, and that the claims of bribary and corruption had ruffled everyones’ feathers.

Beccie agrees ..there are times you just want to disappear and , at least consider, never coming back.

It must be said that whilst Morocco is admirably making great efforts to break with a tradition of bribery and corruption at every level, it is still endemic, or at least very much so in the building trade. But for someone to point fingers, was not only rude, but something that got everyone looking in to corners, or at shoes/floors and wondering if the finger was pointing at them..

In the meeting with the Caid, he told me he would assist me in sorting this out, and I told him I would be very appreciative. But I immediately went to Abdulla. Yes I was angry, we’d completely renovated his ground floor, with far more work than necessary, we’d had an agreement and he’d gotten greedy and reneged on it and now he was trying to get us shut down…all for a parasol…I let out a few expletives and left.

The next day his 25 year old, only son died having taken a tetanus injection for a minor scratch on some rusty metal, only to have a massive allergic reaction to it……and this on the guys 25th birthday!

What can you say to a man who has lost his only son. When I heard the news I came home and hugged Finn, and when I went round to Abdullas’ house for the wake, which lasted a full week, I hugged his wife and in sincerity, cried with her.

This tragedy gave an insight in to a very particular part of Morrocan lives. This was his only son, and as such even more of a disaster. Family and friends from all over Morocco and Europe came to the house, which held an open door for a week. Like a week long wake, all and anyone came to sit with the family. Their daughters did everything, the mother was inconsolable and Abdulla simply murmered about it being the will of God. I couldn’t see that myself, but for them it gave a reason, an understanding for the tragedy.

Another strange thing was discussing this with Moroccan friends who would simply say, “what goes around comes around”. I found this harsh in the extreme, and to this day it fills me with dread that anyone, especially anyone from Abdullah’s family could think of any connection between the two events…but here they do, they definitely do.

These days, now a month later, their door is shut and they live lives trying to heal, from the inconsolable. I've recently found out that during Ramadan they went on the haj to Mecca, again bringing their tragedy within the context of their religion.

I must admit, whenever I think about it, I think of Finn and a shudder passes through me

Anyway, in terms of the building, obviously nothing could happen during the wake and after that some very sensitive boards needed to be tread. After about three weeks I was finally told that discussions had been had, Abdullah had recanted all statements and complaints, noone was corrupt and I could carry on building. I offered my thanks in appropriate quantity.

This was great but it now means that poor old M’hammed our Mwalem (Master builder) at Tazi is still out there, in the heat of the day hirsching and martobbing the walls, regularly pouring water on himself, and hopefully not falling in to a thirst drenched stupa, and falling from the scaffolding.

All the workers say that it will make no difference, Ramadan that is, but whilst we’ve changed working hours to be from 08.00 to 14.00, these past two days I’ve gone in to work and haven’t drunk a thing for these 6 hours by the end of it I’m dizzy, not quite compus mentis, my mouth is dry like saw dust and I’m irritable as hell.

Sure enough tempers fray and people launch themselves at each other. Only yesterday I saw a guy screaming at another for…well nothing…I joked at a friend, Le Ramadan a deja commence, and he laughed, oui! Driving home today at 15.00, the whole roundabout was blocked as two drivers threw themselves at each other, crowds looking on, and others trying to restrain the melee, as others were drawn in to it, with everyone fixed by the hightened tension that is universally felt.

It’s now about 15 minutes before the break of the fast. If I look out of the window, the roads, normally chocked with traffic at this time, are empty. A few individuals scurry along near bare pavements, there is a huge sense of expectation in the air. In a moment there will be the sound of a canon, followed by the muezzin, the call to prayer, and finally the long day will come to an end, people will eat, drink and smoke, and pour on to the streets until the early hours, to eat, drink, laugh and smoke, until tomorrow and the dawn of a new day.

Boom…there it goes and here’s the call to prayer….think I’ll have a G n T, somehow I need it.

June - September 2009 part 3; Absent Friends and family.

What to do?

Just trying to write a quick note before the wonderful Didier comes round to sink a few very much needed G n Ts.

You see the plan for a while has been that I stay here for part of Ramadan and push the house/813 forward, trying to get it finished for Jane and Monica, friends of Beccie’s, coming out in early Oct and Jules, Lisa and Gordon, friends of mine, coming out at the end. It would be great to actually have the house finished by then and we are sooooo close, tho to be honest I’ve been saying that it’ll be finished in 3 months, for the past 4 months now!!!

The thing is I feel absolutely shattered, exhausted, crawling…well I would be crawling if I had the energy, but rather I feel like I’m just lying on the floor prostrate, motionless…and that’s me crawling, or the nearest thing I can summon….that’s how tired I feel.

It has to be said that I do feel immeasurably better now. When Beccie and you left I swear I had a couple of days that I literally did nothing, except ensure that I had something to eat, drink and was, at a very basic level, within the norms of acceptable basic personal hygiene! God I was fucked.

I think we started Tazi around April/May 2008, and 813 in October of the same year. We had Finn in August 2007 and moved to Morocco in November of that year. And since then I really don’t think I’ve had a holiday. We did have a break in Jerez around August last year, but in reality, with the combined stress of everything, we spent the whole time arguing…no ones’ fault but hardly relaxing.

Then there was Xmas…but I was finishing a consultancy for UNICEF, and spent most of the time trying to work on that, and since then….apart from a short thing with OXFAM, I’ve been re building two aged houses, raising a child and trying to maintain a marriage, not alone, Beccie has been tremendous and does so much, especially with Finn, I frequently stand there in awe…how does she do it? How does she know how to do it?

Gorgeous wife on a rare day off.

Don’t get me wrong, I genuinely count myself as incredibly lucky. I have a gorgeous son, who I adore, a wonderful wife, whom I have dragged all over Africa since I asked her on bended knee to give me a chance of seeing her, and promising her that I was fully prepared to settle down…oops! And no matter how challenging things are here, and at times they really are difficult, we have a very good life and, hopefully, good prospects of making a successful business.

Morocco and Moroccans are cool, it’s a great place to live and we are happy.

But, Jesus I feel so tired!

As I say, with 813, we are close, soooo close.

But we lost a month with the disappearance of our first zeligi. He started around June and we should have been looking at completing all the zelig within the month. That would have meant that we could have had our mwalem (skilled craftsman) for Gubbs (plaster) start in July, and that should have seen both jobs finished by …well now.

Thus the perennial 3 months that I've been citing as the finish date.

Unfortunately, there is an unwritten rule when working with craftsmen here and that is never criticise their work….not if you want to keep them working.

Working with a mwalem, any mwalem, of any trade, is all about trying to get the best possible, which is to say, by perpetually massaging their egos, by saying that bad is really quite good, but what about something slightly different; that their ideas are excellent, but if I might possibly include some miniscule component of my own thought re the design of my house and the work that I am paying to be done; that whilst I know I am not a mwalem, I can see that black is not white and to acknowledge without reservation that any fault, error, mistake, is ultimately my fault, perhaps then, and only then, we could keep moving forward.

I know this rule, I’ve learnt it over the months and soon to be years, that I have been working on these chantiers (building sites). We had Mwalem mason Driss, a great mason, but one whom it was impossible to get to work faster than second grear. It was like massaging a rheumatoid geriatric slug, trying to get him to move out of first gear. His walls were straight…perfectly straight. His brick work was truly beautiful, but it was like watching snails climb walls..infact I believe that he learnt his trade building walls for snails to climb on, one brick at a time!

And what could you say? Certainly not “Fucking hell Driss could you please get your finger out and build that wall at something resembling a mason and not a rose bush creeping up over several summer seasons?”

No, the only way forward is to massage his ego, to tell him how great his work is, to joke about maybe, perhaps, bizarrely it might be possible to go slightly quicker, you know, so that we might finish the wall (forget about the fucking house) before I have to retire!!!

Always being ever so aware that to criticise, is to risk…at best a mood, a strop, hours, maybe days, possibly weeks, of petulance, passive aggressive, childish STROP…and that is the best scenario. Others include sabotage, (blocking drains is a very popular one), theft, slowing down even further, decreasing the quality of work until you are forced to sack them…yes there are times when the strategy is not to say “thanks but no thanks..good bye” but rather, I’m going to force you to sack me.

Why? Now there’s a question!

Or simply walking off the job, which is to say, not turning up one morning.

Its all smiles as long as you can grin and bear it!

Thus there was Mwalem Haj, our initial zeligi. We had agreed a price for all the work, measured it out, explained our needs and that there was the prospect of working on Tazi when this was finished. We had shaken hands and hugged one another. We had told him how great his work was when we had gone to see it in other peoples’ houses.

He had then worked on our terraces and once completed by him we were very happy. We told him so, many, many times.

Then he worked in our Menza (a room that gives on to the terrace) and the work was simply not as good. His workers were off for a job in Agadir, a jolly if ever there was one in Morocco, and they didn’t have their minds on the job. He wasn’t around as he was managing a bigger job and as I saw, and told him from the outset in this room, the work wasn’t up to his normal, magnificent quality.

I emphasised the magnificence of his normal quality, how it wasn’t his fault that his workers hadn’t worked as well without him as with him. That he was a true leader of men, but the demands of his popularity, caused by the evident quality of his skill, had caused a lapse in an otherwise bleached white copy book. (in fact I’d been told that this was a similar pattern and that once he left his underlings to work, the quality frequently dropped!)

He looked at the work and agreed. It wasn’t as good as the rest, it could either be redone or we could agree a discount.

Amazingly reasonable, I thought and opted to leave the work and accept the discount. We shook hands, laughed as adults do at mistakes maturely resolved, and went our separate ways until his return after the weekend.

He did not return.

I called him and he told me he’d been delayed but would be at the house in two days.

He didn’t turn up…I began to suspect there was a problem.

I called again…he didn’t pick up. I used someone elses’ phone…..a common ploy when trying to find absent friends..and on answering, I asked if there was a problem. No of course not, I’ll be there tomorrow, ish allah.

Now it should be noted that “Ish Allah” if God wills it, has a number of meanings. Obviously everything depends on Gods will…that goes without saying. But equally it can mean…”No chance”..or “maybe”…or I haven’t decided yet…or if the job that I might be getting with someone else falls through…you begin to understand the subtlety the longer you live here…I suspected the former.

He didn’t turn up.

But this was stupid, we had done nothing wrong (you see how quickly it becomes the fault of the purchaser of services!!!), and we had discussed everything like adults, like grown men. And we had shaken hands. There had been plenty of room for disagreement to be expressed, if there had been any disagreement. But there hadn’t been, we had agreed that the work wasn’t up to scratch, that it had been no ones fault, that we respected each other…were adults.

So I got someone to call him. On their phone. He said he would meet us.

He didn’t turn up.

So I decided to find him, I had to confront him, I needed to ask him…what the fuck are you doing playing these childish games, Jesus you’re my age!

Fortunately I knew one of his workers very well and found his newest chantier. I waited outside…stalking him..yes stalking him! You should have seen his face when he saw me…Let noone say that Fez is anything but a village…there are no secrets, no hiding places.

We talked, he said that there had been a mistake, of course he wanted to carry on working and would be there in two days…

He didn’t turn up.

It took about a month to find a new mwalem zeligi, having trawled any number of potential candidates, to be shown work ranging from the atrocious to the atrociously expensive. Finally we have decided upon working with Yussef, a guy I’ve known since I got here, who’s worked with a few friends and is tried and tested. He’s affable and his work is good…tho, whilst his team is now shooting through the house and has now completed the etage and intra sol, the quality of it is very similar to the menza…tho now I am more prepared to look at it and think that it may not be perfect, but at least it’s fine.

Certainly I’ve learnt that it’s a major decision to lose this mwalem again and again retard the completion further.

Despite everything, we've gotten this far on the terraces.

It took us months to find our initial masonry and labouring team. I’ve forgotten how many masons we’ve been through…perhaps ten, perhaps more. There are the jokers, the chancers, the no chancers and the you’re having a laughers. Some have lasted days, months, hours. Some haven’t turned up, others keep turning up. Some go peacefully, others are too stoned to care, some have put up a fight, threatened legal action or have only left because we’ve threatened the police. We’ve had stand up rows, come close to fisty cuffs, or just burst in to uncontrolable laughter.

However I have to say that these days we have the basis of a really great team, many of whom have now been with us for over a year and a half and I would say are great, and great fun. Obviously everyone has on and off days, but generally we all do pretty well. But it’s taken time, and lots of opening and closing of doors.

Finding a new mwalem is to enter a world of the possible and the possibly not. It may be that anyone recommended was brilliant in their last job, and will be so on yours…or possibly not. Then there is the re negotiating of prices, assessing current work rate, quality etc as opposed to those reported or promised, integration in to the team, development of mutual understanding…or mis understanding, and the ever necessary massaging of egos. It brings a whole new first hand and personal experience with the theory of “forming, storming, norming and performing…………………………….and this is part and parcel of starting any new mwalem or team.

Such complications are part and parcel of all teams or skills.

Our decappeur team (the guys who strip the old paint off the wood in the house..and there’s a lot of wood in the house!) started saying that they would be finished in a month, took three months to complete and in the mean time, raised their price by 30%, refused to include the oiling of the decapped wood, something that that we had agreed originally, and walked off our job to that of another house in our derb, that I had recommended them to, only returning when I had finally organised with the house owner for them to be shut out of that house, until they had completed ours!

Equally our very lovely, tho very frequently stoned iron monger, who gave us a quote of a week to complete the metal railings a month ago, and told me a month later, that they might be ready next week! I've since seen him and he now, two months later, tells me, there's a shortage of iron!!!

Ali, our loveable plumber, went missing for a month as we were trying to finish our plumbing system, so that the zeligi and carpenter could finish their work…both of which remain…waiting. Fortunately he has returned. I managed to track him down by visiting a coffee house he worked on, where the owner knows his cousin, whose house I visited to ask a man I had never met to contact his cousin so that he could return to my house, as Ali was no longer answering his calls, to find he had been on holiday in Casa and Rabat and had been working in Azrou.

He promises to come back to the house on Monday…Ish Allah, which will mean that then the carpenter can finish his work, that means that the mason can build on top of that and finally that the zeligi can complete the tiling.

Ish Allah!

And all this, and the buying of materials and negotiating with neighbours and authorities is done, mainly in Deriga and if we’re lucky, in French. But if I’m in the chantier, if I’m with our teams, it’s all in deriga…I’ve a great scope of building terms in Deriga….

Sometimes you need to be able to do this too! Wedding musicians letting off steam in Fez.

That equally is fine, if tiring. But apart from anything, it’s not as if either of us are experts in anything building related. Yes I can change a plug, but not much else. I’m sorely disappointed that I haven’t learnt more of all of the trades, but to be honest, just doing the management, logistics, politics, admin’, sourcing of materials, planning, checking…it all takes too much time. Which is not to say that I’ve not been hands on, I can lug a bag of rubble like…well no, not like the best of them..I’m too feeble for that, but I’ve lugged my fair share, tho it would have been nice to know how to build a brick wall, lay pipes and maybe electrics…or maybe not.

Of course it hasn't all been so bad and I love it when we can get away and enjoy the real beauty of Fez and it's surroundings. We had John and France over for a while before you went and took them camping on Zalagh. What fun, what joy and how we enjoyed it all. Yes there are great things here, there and everywhere, but one needs a break...I need a break or I become more of a boring old fart than I already am...what a terrible thought!

May 2009: The begining of the end?

Ahhh, the joys of sunshine Finn. At last it's here to stay. It'll get hot, very hot, but that's fine. Bring it on, now at last we can get to feel as if we really have moved out of the west midlands.

813.

Decappage.
I keep going on about stages, but that's exactly what you have, stages and we've gone to another one. This month we've started Mounaym and his team who decap wood. This is basically paint stripping, but given the amount of wood at 813, it's a serious job. Equally there are several pieces that are highly detailed an/or painted. It's good to get another team in, to have a set of fresh faces and again to see us move on to something else that isn't masonary, or plumbing or electrics. Something that says we are looking towards, if not yet at, the finishing line.

Piscinette...and Driss is back.

Oh look daddy, there's a big hole in our house can I get in? No son, not without protection!

We're also building our piscinette still. Once this has been dug out fully, it'll be a job for our prodigal son, Driss who has now returned. That's one of the things here with workers. They come and go around. You go to another chantier and there's half the team we had back this time last year at Tazi.

I caught up with Driss in the street and it was good to have him back. Yes again he's never going to be the fastest, but he's good and we'll see what he gets done this time. Can't see hamid starting again tho!

Obviously this piscinette thing is completly illegal. There's no point in going to the baladiers' and asking for permission...especially as we're only working on a V2 here. Thus we need to get it done and covered asap....umm, maybe not the job for driss!

Work on the terraces.

On the other hand we are moving ahead with completing work on the terraces. Razi's been finishing the terrace above the kitchen. I love this place. It's small, but will be perfect for getting a nice small two seat sofa type thing. The views are 360 degrees and you really feel as if you are flying above Fez. Umm, nice with a G n T and a little doobie!

Below that we've relain new walls on the second terrace and have decided to lay a false floor on the bottom/menza terrace. There's been a sort of walk way around the halka which is really just a loss of space, so we've putting RSJs in to the walls, to hold the weight, and are laying a floor on them. It should be great. It might seem a little thing but it reflects more confidence, to just say that's the idea and let's go...whilst always negotiating with the masons.

Zelig.
Another start is the begining of the zelig. We're planning to start from the top of the house, thgus all the work of the masons in these areas, but this really is moving towards a finishing stage. Haj, the mwalem zeligi, seems really quite affable. He's the most reasonably priced zeligi we've met and I'm really looking forward to getting going with him. jesus, imagine if we had the house zeliged for the summer...then the wood finished and then the plasterer...wow!

Time Out.

INGO work.
I've completed a follow up to my British Red Cross training this month. This was so much better than the previous course and was based far more within skill sets, thus we all got a chance to learn more. It was based in the west country and we camped. Unfortunately it was really wet the whole time, which was a bit of a drag, but over all a really good time, good learning and good people.

I followed this with some work with OXFAM Wash cluster testing out their training kit. It's good,very good. Suzanne Ferron, who's lead the piece of work has done remarkably well.

It was interesting to see where, and how old aid workers go tho. Lots of consultants, quite a few people who want out but can't..we're lucky to have these options. I'm glad I did the work for so long, and I hope we'll go out and do a bit more, I think you'd love it Finn, but you need other options, which we have now.

Papa Wemba (didn't) come to town.

On the subject of aid work, I caught sight of a poster saying that Papa Wembe would be coming to Fez. Papa Wembe! I couldn't believe it, he's a god, a super star of Congolese music...here in Fez. I followed up phone calls and there was a whole Congolese evening being planned up at the Fez camping...It took a bit of persuasion to get the possie together and of course when I said that it peobably wouldn't start till 03,00 noone believed me. So we went up late, cooked out of Habiby and waited. 01.00...nothing. 02.00....more of the same...people were losing faith. I told them 03.00...this was Congo...Kinshasa...wait you won't be disappointed. and then at 02.30 people started turning up, music went on and by 03.30 we were well away. Fantastic music, amazing dancing and lots of congolese women leaving little to the imagination. I love congo...would be nice to go back, perhaps not quite yet tho Finn!

Cafe Clock also had another party, this time to celebrat a year (or is it two) being open. I'd told mike about the barrage and off we went to check it out. Of course beautiful. The following week we all set off, us in habiby, mike with a coach filled with party goers for a picnic at the barage. Stupendous. Lovely people and a great time. You loved it...we'll be back.

You also had parties of your own to go to as Fatimas' grandchild had her first birthday. Off you went to be the solitary gaourie amongst a group of adoring women and kids. You seemed to like that one too...could it have been all the cake and sweets?

This is also Fez Sacred Music Festival time and thus of course we went to see some of it. I was sorry that I missed Souad Massi, but did catch the Whirling Dervishes from Turkey, also Sufis. It's great when the festival comes round, tho the past two we've been too busy to enjoy it. However it feels less a festival than a series of relatively high brow concerts.

There are free public events, notably in the square and at Riad Pasha Tazi, but in reality tickets are about 20E, there's regularly a huge guest list of people there to be seen and it's all a bit too high brow. No street gigs, nothing like that. But it's here, who am I to complain.

You've also managed to get yourself out of Fez and up on to Mount zalagh, with your mum, Gail and Fran', who also live here. It's good that there are other English parents here and we would do well to meet more. Obviously Moroccan parents would be nice to meet as well, but for language and just relaxations sake, more anglo saxons please (how bad is that? Sorry, but there are times). I'm sure they're out there, we'll just have to go looking...Umm good time for that summer, meeting new people!

April 2009; At last a bit of sun, the begining of the picinette and letting yer hair down.

Ahhh, Finn, at long last it seems that the rain has stopped, or at leasdt that it's stopping. We had a moment there, a false stop, where the sun began to shine, where our hopes were raised, when I thought it was all over. But it was afalse dawn, and instead those few days of sunshine were followed by yet more rain. But, and I say this holding on to anything wooden around me, we may at last be through it.

It's been a disaster, I've never seen so much rain. I don't think it even rained this much in Mozambique when I was managing a flood response.

The up side of this however, is that not only are we able to at last do something other than hunker down at home come our weekends, but wherever we go at present os gorgeously green. As such we've taken a few day trips away, which we've all loved, but it's such a joy to see you out in nature. You've been stuck in doors for too long and even in the nedina there's nowhere for you to go and play. It's a real issue.

Of course there is Zalagh and thank goodness we've got the car to just go up at our leisiure, but it's still not the same. This again draws me to Xaouen where at least you'll have a whole mountain to play on. Let's hope that this time next year we're able to begin work up there and you get to benefit.

One of the other difficulties about the weekends is that it's just one day, a Friday. Six day weeks are simply killers. It would be so nice to luxuriate in doing little but loitering, but we don't have the time for that, we've got to have time together, make time together. So we tend to go away.

Barrage El fassi and other sites.
There are some great places near here, Zalagh, Barrage El Fassi, this side of the Middle Atlas (you haven't seen the monkeys yet!), but with the exception of zalagh, all require a treck and that can be a real chore, especially for bex who's less of a fan of the road trip than I am.

In xaouen we've got mountains, waterfalls, the sea, monkeys all within an hour. Umm, sounds good for next year...better get the places finished here first.

Fin and Skin.
Your skin is bad again. I hope the sun and summer will help, certainly I frequently feel helpless trying to do anything about it.

Tazi.
Things at Tazi have been stunted by yet further attacks from Shameless, who recently threw a mettle grid down a shaft at us. They're complaining that we haven't finished work in their house. But it made no sense to do so until we had finished the area around it on our side. They are such a nightmare.

The Deep.
Beccie brings in the materials, with a bit of help from John.
Anyway, we've launched ourselves in to the cellar of the house and are clearing that, which will be a large and important area in the house. We managed to find beldi zelig on the floor which might save us some money, and have lain drains in to the river.

This is a huge piece of work, clearing floors, digging through drainage systems, cleaning and clearing old kaduces and zelig. And it's all down in the depths. It's a funny place down there and desperately needs us to move forward with the buying of those neighbours so that the whole area can be opened up.

Mohammed Teeth and Said, playing about in the dirt.

On that we've been in significant discussions with the neighbours re buying and I think we are close. You never know and certainly the bottom neighbour, who is actually sub terranian to us, are very difficult to negotiate with. Watch this space!

Work on neighbours.
Outside of this we've been working doing repairs to the houses of many of the other
neighbours here.

I thought this wouldn't take too long, but it's probably taken up the best part of this month. many have been very accommodating, some, Shameless, are a nightmare, and Abdullah is trying to get every penny's worth out of us. I feel guilty re his as there has been major water damage caused by our twat of a plumber. He's desperate to get started and i can totally understand, but he needs to let his walls dry first, which he seems loathed to do.

813. Hirching completed.

And the begining of our picinette.

At 813 it's been all action. The hirsching has finished and the house looks fantastic, but now we start a couple of really big jobs. The first is to try to complete the building of a piscinette between the bartal on one side of the house.

Beccie is far from sure about this, but I've been here for a couple of summers and it's hot, roasting hot. Whilst it's usually definately cooler on the ground floor compared to the top of the house, and acknowledging that the floor space isn't huge, I thought that it'd be a good idea to put in a small pool that we can cover in winter and enjoy in Summer. I am also sure it will add value to the house, especially if we sell in summer!

Ground floor bathroom.
Another project started is the ground floor bathroom. This is the only bathroom we have, the others being shower/wet rooms only. The idea is to build a huge arch in it and have smaller archlettes for candles etc. I've seen a design and am working with razi to interpret this in to 813.

Razi's great and whilst he does tend to slaken at times, he's even tempered and workls well. Infact the whole team are great...I think the sun must be getting to me!

The drains.
The third big project we've been doing at 813 has been to finally try to finish the drains. This will mean that we decide either to pass thro Slonge or through hassan's a very exciteable neighbour. There's lots of negotiations to be had and whilst I'd rather go thro hassans, he's too up tight and I fear being cornered in the street by him if anything goes wrong.

Re Slonge, it's more a case of questioning whether her drains work in the first place and whether we'd be building upon problems by joining to hers.

Outside of Fez.

Akchour and xaouen.
Above xaouen.
After a while managing both builds I decided that I nneded a few days off, a mini break. I felt exhausted and was getting crabby. So Beccie said she'd look after the fort and I went up to xaouen for a few days. I took the back route along the old Ouazzin road, across zalagh and up through Zonga (I think). It was so green, Ireland green, amazingly green.

Camp site near Akchout.
I spent a night camping with the car near our land in Loubar and then headed down to the national park near Akchour, which is simply stunning. I found a camp site down by the river, just 1 - 2kms from the entrance to the national park and Gods Bridge. This place is run by local Moroccans who lease the land from the government. They've done an amazing job and I'd fully recommend it to anyone. Clean, well lain out, deeply and subtly mixing with the natural environment, next to a river and surrounded by trees and mountains. What more could I have asked for.

God's Bridge.
The next day I went off to treck up to Gods Bridge, a naturally formed bridge over two dies of the valley. It's also beautiful and the area is slowly being developed with assistance from the Andaluscian Junta in Spain. Thus small, discreet cafe are popping up. There's home stay type lodges on walking paths from Xaouen. I'd like to do a bit of walking from Xaouen.

Funnilly enough I'd been in touch with Jules in the Uk who had friends coming over to Fez and the Rif. They had been going south but I advised them there was much untouristed fun to be had up here. I'd expected a call from them in Fez but nothing happened. Then, on God's Bridge as I was babbling in Deriga to a guy, a woman came up and asked if I was Paul?, A friend of Julie Edgecombe, Did I live in Fez?

And it was them. They'd just hiked from Xaouen and were loving every minute.

Amazing.

Infact I really fancy taking off for a month to walk the length of the Rif. D'you fancy coming?

The time at xaouen was well needed and did just what the doctor ordered. After a couple of days I felt refreshed and ready to get back to the chantiers.

Girls night out in Rabat.
How did it start like this?
Beccie also decided she needed some time out and as such she, Jen' (dar Romana), Justine (of Justine and Didier fame) and Jenny (of Jenny and Jon fame) planned and executed a night out in Rabat. It sounded like it was going to be a hoot; good restaurants, bars and a spot of clubbing. Whilst the cats away however, I decided to have Jon and Didier over for a spot of chicken tandori and a few rounds of cards..along with all the other poisons that are part of a quiet night in.

Get to this?
At some point in the morning I was awoken by beccie calling from rabat...it was still dark outside and I was, well, not feeling quite myself. there'd been an incident...several incidents. Yes everyone was Ok, if a bit tired and emotional, and would I come and pick them up with a spare set of car keys. Jen's bag had been snatched, it was a long story... Fine, and back I went to sleep.

And end up like this, who's in charge?

I arrived in Rabat to find that a quiet night by budding self employed professionals had morphed in to a classic of Brits abroad. All the classic traits of our excessive anglo saxon culture had exploded on to an unsuspecting audience in Rabat. Punches had been trown, words exchanged, tears shed...all after several large clear spirits....

Just as well my wife has a husband to look after her...I laughed!!!

Outside of the joys of our own chantiers, I 've also been spending quite a bit of time with Dominique, who also rehabilitating his "small" house...as opposed to his bigger one! At times this is real therapy, you can moan and complain together, and advise and aid eacjh other. But there was little to say when he told me that he'd been away for a couple of days and came back to find the whole side of his house collapse.
These are the times when you think, well at least that didn't happen to me!

And around Fez it seems to be the begining of the wedding season. For the next 3 - 4 months the streets are regularly filled with processions of families, brides and grooms, bands of musicians and pall bearers.