tales in a Moroccan market place)When I finally got - PDF document

tales in a Moroccan market place)When I
tales in a Moroccan market place)When I finally got may know, is theprofessional storyteller in the Arab culture for whom the and coffee house) much poorer; traditional thingssurvive there in plenty. In Marrakesh where IÕd first watched them at work, And that despite troops of twirling gnawa dancers with crucial moment Because like us green teaand nuts. In the gloom of the inner rooms, you could catch the glint of atelevision, given pride of place amongst od

dly contrasting and more homespunpossess
dly contrasting and more homespunpossessions. I wondered how long the tradition could continue.Taroudant is an elegantly walled city almost in the shade of the High Atlaspeaks. in step with us, I asked him about the family traditionnaturally. What stories would they tell? Many stories, maybe from Alif Layla waLayla Men stood incircles listening, watching. ThereÕs a kind of concentrated stillness in halqaaudiences that shuts out the rowdiness of an Arab city. T

he crowds focusedhypnotised attention on
he crowds focusedhypnotised attention on a man extolling the virtues in the trance of the story. The rawi, a man in his said, but very aware of thestrangely focused quality in the air that goes with good storytelling.ÔThis man also rawi,Õ said Ahmed, pulling me away from the group after a while.ÔHe used to holding audiences. AndAhmedÕs translation was fluent and enthusiastic.He had begun to study to be a teller of tales at the age of twelve. His uncle, nothis

father, had been a rawi qissas before hi
father, had been a rawi qissas before him. HeÕd started had to study. Here in Taroudant, he and the other rawi were working together,telling (appropriately for the holy month of Ramadan) the Wahidan, a religiousepic concerning the successors of Mohammed. This would take several days.Each day of this week they would come to this same place and continue thestories for about two hours. They would make a collection. Many of the samepeople would come back tomorrow. The

y would say Ôsee you tomorrowÕ andthey
y would say Ôsee you tomorrowÕ andtheyÕd made up.I was surprised at that; it wasnÕt something IÕd expected. But the rawi shaped drum) sometimes.They improvised interludes and introductions to his stories. He didnÕt know howmany stories he knew I had the impression thathe But we parted with smiles andgood wishes as I handed him some dirhams for the collection. ÔIt is good to giveto this man,Õ Ahmed said as we walked away. ÔThis man very sell, for once