Day 16 - Fes, Morocco
I stand outside of the shrine of Moulay Idriss, waiting for Bodhi. He passes easily for Moroccan and no one questioned him at the gate. I, on the other hand, am always being denied entry somewhere.
Was it beautiful, I ask when he returns.
Yes, he says. And it's full of women. They're praying for good husbands and healthy babies.
We walk to get lost. It's easy to do in this medieval city. I taste several kinds of dates and buy bags of dried rose petals. Local artichokes are in season and they have small pink blooms.
We pass a large camel head, hung outside a butcher's shop. The animal's face is serene, floating without a body.
Wind gusts and the head sways.
The guidebook says they hang heads outside meat shops to entice shoppers, Bodhi says. So you know the meat is fresh.
I walk behind the head. It's as large as my torso. The muscles of the animal's throat appear at the back. I move closer and pull out my Leica. I take pictures, lean in and inhale.
Bodhi is looking at me as I return to him. A group of curious shoppers watch me. A brown girl in men's clothes.
Funny, I say. Death doesn't smell the way I thought.