Never before had the phrase sensory overload been better understood than the moment we stepped out of the cab at Jemaa El-Fnaa in Marrakesh. I have been swept up into masses of bodies before. The sights, sounds, and smells of a summertime carnival are all too familiar. We have strolled through markets around the globe, mesmerized by strange-looking sea creatures packed on ice or exotic produce hanging from colorful displays. But there was an aspect about this Square in the Northwest corner of the African continent that I could not fully grasp. A certain je nais se quois.
Perhaps it because we were now thoroughly immersed in all things Arabic. The culture would be front and center, not watered down as it had been in Andalusia. Or maybe it was the realization that we had touched down on our fourth continent — spellbinding Africa. This was the land, in the Great Rift Valley, where our ancestors, all of ours, began walking upright on two feet. It was the region that birthed the great Egyptian Empire. In painful contrast, it was also where humanity was captured and taken as slaves to the New World and where abject poverty is still a daily reality.
As I think back long and hard, what made this location special was the thrill of the uncomfortable that hung in the air.
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