Ancient Gods of the Old Testament

Who is Baal? What about Asherah, Dagon, Marduk, Moloch and the other pagan gods of the Bible? And was human sacrifice part of their worship?

Some of these ancient gods, including Molech, who had a built-in baby-burning furnace, are accused of inciting human sacrifice.

My parents were never very religious. But that didn’t stop them from sending me to bible camp in the summer. (It was tons of fun — though we all dreaded the inevitable one-on-one with our counselor, when he’d ask if we had let Jesus into heart. Every year we replied that we thought Jesus was in there but we couldn’t be absolutely sure).

I also went to Catholic school for four years. So, even though I was obsessed with the ancient gods of Greece and Rome, I couldn’t help being influenced by the Bible’s condemnation of the Canaanite deities in the Old Testament. If you asked me about Baal when I was a kid, I’d have told you he was an evil god who was second only to Satan himself.

“The god El could very well have been the original conception of the Hebrew God.

It’s right there in the “el” in the name Israel, which is usually translated as “He Who Struggles With God.””

Imagine my surprise years later, when I learned more about the gods that were so maligned in the Bible. They weren’t always the bloodthirsty incarnations of evil they were depicted as. They were simply the deities worshipped by the kingdoms surrounding Israel and Judah. Baal, for instance, was essentially just another Middle Eastern god of fertility. The Old Testament writers disparaged them because they were rivals to their extremely jealous god, Yahweh. (In fact, when God came up with 10 Commandments for his people to follow, he topped the list with, “Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”)

Here are the major ancient deities of the Levant, and how they’re depicted in the Bible.

Adrammelech

Aka: Adramelech, Adar-malik

Meaning of the name: Majestic King

Domain: The sun, a counterpart to Anammelech, the goddess of the moon

Biblical reference: 2 Kings 17:31: The people of the Assyrian city of Sepharvaim were said to burn their children as sacrifices to the god.

Description: This handsome devil has the face of a mule and the plumage of a peacock. He’s also depicted as having a lion’s body with wings and the bearded head of a man.

Strange story: According to Collin de Plancy, author of the Dictionnaire Infernal, Adrammelech is in charge of Satan’s wardrobe.

Asherah

Aka: Athirat, Ashratu

Meaning of the name: Happy or Upright

Domain: There’s a lot of confusion around this deity. She could be the mother of the gods. In some incarnations, she was a goddess of sexuality or of the mountains. She also could be tied to the sea or the sun.

She might not even be a goddess; asherah seems to refer to cult objects — specifically the consecrated poles used in worship at the time.

Numerous statuettes like this one are tied to the goddess Asherah.

Biblical reference: 1 Kings 18:19: The goddess’ 400 prophets eat at Jezebel’s table, along with the prophets of Baal.

2 Kings 23:4-7: Josiah had “all the articles” made for Asherah and Baal burned, and the “idolatrous priests” were done away with. The Asherah pole was also set on fire and its ashes spread over the graves of the common people. And the quarters where women did weaving for the goddess were torn down.

Description: Often depicted as a stylized tree

Strange story: She’s connected with Yahweh as a consort — meaning that before the Jews were monotheistic, their God had a wife!

Ashtoreth 

Aka: Atar-gatis; connected to Ishtar and Astarte

Meaning of the name: Star

Domain: The moon; supreme goddess of Canaan and female counterpart to Baal

Biblical reference: 1 Samuel 12:10: One of many references to people declaring they will no longer worship the Baals and the Ashtoreths. The use of the plural could indicate that these names were used to speak generally about so-called pagan deities.

The goddess in her Atar-gatis guise has legs as well as a long fish tail.

Description: As Atar-gatis, she was a woman with the tail of a fish.

Strange story: As an earlier incarnation, Ishtar, the goddess was worshipped through prostitution. And she eventually morphed into a male demon, Astaroth, a great duke of Hell.

Baal

Aka: Ba’al, Baal of Peor, Baal-Berith, Baal-Zebub

Meaning of the name: Lord

Domain: Fertility, as well as the sun and storms; supreme god of Canaan and Phoenicia

Biblical reference: The Old Testament is lousy with references to Baal. He gave the Golden Calf a run for its money. Some choice selections: 

2 Kings 10:18-28: The Israelite King Jehu tricked all the servants and priests of Baal to come to the temple for a great sacrifice, where he had his soldiers massacre every last one of them. To add insult to injury, Jehu then made the house of Baal a public latrine. 

Jeremiah 19:5: Baal’s worshippers are said to burn their sons alive as a sacrifice to appease the deity. 

1 Kings 18:28: The priests of Baal worked themselves into a frenzy and cut themselves with swords and lances.

You can see how depictions of Baal might have helped influence Christians’ concept of the Devil (aka Beelzebub).

Description: Baal is basically a minotaur — a powerfully built man with the fearsome head of a bull. He’s sometimes shown as a man wearing a toilet-plunger-looking hat  over his luxurious curls and holding a lightning bolt in his upraised hand.

Strange story: Baal’s worship included public ritual prostitution between one of his priests and a local woman.

The demon Beelzebub, whom Jesus links to Satan in the Book of Matthew, is a modification of one of Baal’s names.

Chemosh

Aka: Asthor-Chemosh

Meaning of the name: Uncertain; perhaps Destroyer or Fish God

Domain: War, mountains; primary god of the Moabites

Biblical reference: 1 Kings 11:7: Despite being held up as a paragon of virtue, King Solomon actually built a sanctuary to Chemosh — thought of as a move to please his Moabite wife.

2 Kings 3:27: The king of Moab sacrificed his firstborn son and heir to Chemosh on the city wall — and the strategy worked. The Israelites scurried away in defeat.

Description: An old man with a full beard, wearing a bulbous cap and sometimes brandishing a sword

Strange story: There’s rare archeological evidence that calls out Chemosh by name: the Moabite Stone, or Mesha Stele, discovered in 1868 at Dibon. It bears an inscription commemorating the circa 860 BCE endeavors of King Mesha to overthrow the Israelite dominion of Moab. 

Dagon

Meaning of the name: Grain

Domain: Fertility, agriculture, war, death and the afterlife; chief god of the Philistines

Biblical reference: 1 Samuel 5: The Philistines captured the Ark of the Covenant and put it in the temple of Dagon. In the morning, the statue had fallen over, face-down, in front of the ark. The next morning, the same thing had happened, and the statue’s head and hands had broken off. The worshippers of Dagon were justifiably freaked out, so they moved the ark from town to town — but everywhere it resided, the people developed tumors. Eventually, the Philistines returned the cursed ark to Israel.

The statue of Dagon kept falling down in front of the stolen Ark of the Covenant.

Description: A merman — half man, half fish, or a bearded man wearing a sort of giant fish cloak, with the open mouth pointing skyward

Strange story: The concept of Dagan’s appearance is fishy, though — some sources think it’s a misrepresentation of the deity.

El

Meaning of the name: God

Domain: Father of the gods

Biblical reference: Genesis 14:18–20: Abraham accepts the blessing of El.

Description: An old man, often with wings; sometimes depicted as a bull

Strange story: In the Bible, El is the supreme god of the Canaanites, yet is identified with Yahweh. In fact, he could very well have been the original conception of the Hebrew God. It’s right there in the “el” in the name Israel, which is usually translated as “He Who Struggles With God.”

If El was the prototype of Yahweh, it explains the connection between his wife, Asherah, and the Hebrew God.

Hadad 

Aka: Ramman; often conflated with Baal

Meaning of the name: Thunder

Domain: Storms, fertility

Biblical reference: It’s believed that some of the mentions of lower-case baals (gods) in the Old Testament refer to Hadad — though he also gets jumbled up with numerous other deities of the region. 

One theory, which I imagine to be controversial, states that Psalm 29 was actually about Hadad and not Yahweh, waxing poetic about the voice of God striking with flashes of lightning, shaking the desert, twisting oaks and the like.

Description: Another bearded man wielding a lightning bolt

Strange story: Like the Egyptian deity Osiris, Hadad is murdered by a fellow god, and the world goes barren before he is resurrected.

Marduk

Aka: Bel (which means Lord)

Meaning of the name: Bull Calf

Domain: Justice, compassion, healing, magic; sometimes also a storm and agriculture deity; patron god of Babylon

Biblical reference: Jeremiah 50:2: A rallying cry about the fall of Babylon, where Bel is put to shame, and Marduk is dismayed

Description: A man with a curly beard wearing a robe covered with circular devices. He’s got a pet/servant dragon.

Marduk, god of justice, defeats Tiamat, the goddess of chaos.

Strange story: Marduk killed the goddess of chaos, Tiamat (often shown as a griffin-like creature), with an arrow that split her in two. From her eyes, the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers began to flow, and from her corpse, Marduk formed the heavens and earth. 

Moloch 

Aka: Molech, Molekh, Mo’lech, Moloc

Meaning of the name: King

Domain: Not sure — maybe the underworld; does sacrificing babies count?

Biblical reference: Leviticus 20:2-5: Yahweh demands that the Israelites stone to death any man who “gives his seed” to Moloch, who loved a good child sacrifice.

Description: A calf or an ox; a man with the head of a bull with arms outstretched, its body a furnace to roast infants

Strange story: There’s no real archaeological evidence of a god named Moloch. This most likely wasn’t the name he was known by among his worshipers but rather a Hebrew transliteration. Some scholars think Moloch was actually the same god as Baal.

Nisroch

Aka: Nisrok

Meaning of the name: Possibly relating to a plank of wood, specifically from Noah’s Ark, which Sennacherib, the king of Assyria, worshipped as an idol

Domain: Agriculture

Biblical reference: 2 Kings 19:36-37: Sennacherib was worshipping in the temple to Nisroch, when two of his sons came in and smote the heck outta him with their swords.

King Sennacherib’s sons flee the temple of Nisroch after killing their father.

Description: A muscular man with the head and wings of an eagle (though this is thought by some scholars to originally have been a depiction of a jinni), sometimes shown watering a sacred tree

Strange story: There’s some debate as to whether Nisroch is actually a deity or if it’s a scribal error for the god Nimrod. In later folklore, Nisroch became a demon who’s the chief cook in Hell.

Tammuz

Aka: Dumuzi

Meaning of the name: The Flawless Youth, the Good Young One

Domain: Fertility, shepherds (helping keep newborn animals from being defective)

Biblical reference: Ezekiel 8.14-15: A being of fire (even its loins were aflame) shows the prophet Ezekiel pagan atrocities. At the entrance to the Temple in Jerusalem, Ezekiel sees women weeping for the death of Tammuz, much to his horror. The fire being, though, assures him he’ll see much worse abominations, which is hardly surprising.

Description: A total hottie

Strange story: Tammuz was killed by his lover, Inanna, the goddess of sexuality, because she felt he didn’t mourn her enough when she was lost in the Underworld. Don’t worry: In a foreshadowing of Christ (and in the tradition of Adonis and Osiris), Tammuz was resurrected. –Wally

The Saadian Tombs: A Glorious Monument to the Dead

Peek inside the royal necropolis in Marrakech, which rivals parts of the Alhambra in its beauty. We can thank Sultan al-Mansur for its magnificence — and Ismail Ibn Sharif’s fear of the dead for leaving it intact. 

The Saadian Tombs in 1925

Don’t judge a tomb by its cover. The unremarkable exterior walls surrounding the Saadian Tombs in the medina of Marrakech concealed their exquisite mausoleums for centuries, attracting little more than stray cats and storks. While not much to look at from the outside, the secluded interior courtyard is a completely different matter. 

Walled in and forgotten for more than two centuries, the necropolis of the deceased Saadian royals and their descendants remained hidden until its discovery in 1917. French Resident-General Hubert Lyautey commissioned an aerial survey of Marrakech and, by chance, the photographs revealed the existence of the tombs. They were brought back from disrepair by the Service des Beaux-Arts, Antiquités et des Monuments Historiques before being opened to the general public. 

The unassuming exterior of the Saadian Tombs belies its gorgeous interior.

The historic property is located along the Rue de la Kasbah near the ruins of the El Badi Palace. Even if you have a strong sense of direction, the unmarked streets and nondescript ancient rammed earth walls surrounding many of the buildings in the medina district of Marrakech make finding a destination challenging. 

Ahmad al-Mansur

We eventually did and purchased our tickets, which cost 70 dirhams, or around $8, each. Wally, our friend Vanessa and I passed through an inconspicuous narrow corridor cut into the exterior wall and emerged into a tranquil courtyard garden. 

The royal necropolis dates back to the beginning of the 14th century and originally served as a courtyard garden of the Kasbah Mosque. It wasn’t until the reign of the sixth and most famous sultan of the Saadian dynasty, Ahmad al-Mansur (who reigned from 1578-1603 and was known as Eddahbi, the Golden), that the construction of the tombs reached a far more elegant and refined status. Before al-Mansur died from the plague in 1603, he expanded and embellished its mausoleums in the grand style of the Alhambra, the royal residence of the Nasrid Kingdom, built 200 years prior in Granada, Spain.

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Brightly tiled tombstones fill the courtyard.

A Rested Development

Seven sultans and 62 family members are interred in the Saadian Tombs, with over 100 more outside in the gardens. 

The courtyard enclosure includes two mausoleums with gabled, glazed green roof tiles of kiln-fired clay. 

The gravestones in the mihrab, or prayer niche, reminded us of prayer mats.

The main tombs are located to the left of the enclosure. The first of the three chambers was originally a mihrab, or prayer niche, and is now the final resting place of Saadian princes. Its walls and floors are covered with intricate multicolored zellij mosaic tiles. The varying shapes, colors and patterns embedded in the flat graves reminded me of prayer rugs, laid facing Mecca, for eternity. The stucco work of the archway is delicate and ornate, while the ceiling is equally impressive.

The Hall of Twelve Columns is the star of the show.

Pillars of Society: The Hall of Twelve Columns

The central mausoleum where al-Mansour lies is known as the Hall of Twelve Columns. This chamber incorporates a dozen Carrera marble pillars, carved stucco walls and gilt honeycomb ceiling vaulting known as muqarnas. Al-Mansur traded sugar with the Italians in exchange for the marble, which is fitting, as its white, crystalline surface resembles the fine granular texture of sugar. The sultan’s narrow marble headstone stands in the center of the room and is flanked by those of his son and grandson. The chamber is also home to the remains of Princess Zahra, whose epitaph reads, “Here is the tomb of the noble lady, new moon, marvel of virtues.”

A coffered cedarwood ceiling with sunken square panels of diminishing sizes representing the earth and a circle at its apex standing in for the heavens spans the columned central chamber. This sacred geometry symbolizes the passage from the material to the spiritual world. 

Recent restoration work on the Saadian Tombs began in 2013 and lasted for two years.

The Three Niche Chamber and Lalla Masuda Qubba

Beyond the great hall is the Three Niche Chamber, where those relations deemed less important, including children, are buried. The three arched recesses for which the mausoleum takes its name feature magnificent incised muqarnas embossed in gold, lending the space a luminous quality. 

The “less important” relatives were interred in the Three Niche Chamber, which is still not too shabby a place to spend eternity, if you ask us.

Between the mausoleums and throughout the gardens are descendants, wives and emirs, each resting closer or further away from al-Mansur’s sepulcher, depending on his or her status. 

The entrance to the Lalla Masuda Qubba. As with the rest of the complex, you can’t go inside —  but you can peek into the chambers.

The second and smaller structure is called the Lalla Masuda Qubba and refers to the domed roof mausoleum which contains the grave of al-Mansur’s mother. 

Lalla Masuda

The oldest and original Saadian tomb includes a cedarwood dome and two entrance porches or loggias. It was built by Sultan Abdallah al-Ghalib to bury his father, Mohammed al-Sheikh, the founder of the dynasty. 

In 1591, al-Mansur had his mother, Lalla Masuda, added to the tomb. She was a Moroccan political figure in the Saadi dynasty remembered for her humanitarian work and considered an awliya, or saint. 

Fearing the Dead 

Less than two decades later, Sultan Ahmad al-Abbas was assassinated, the Saadian dynasty had come to an end, and the Alaouites had taken control of the country.  

When Sultan Moulay Ismail Ibn Sharif assumed power, he wasted no time eradicating the legacy of the Saadi dynasty. He systematically set about looting and stripping most of their architectural achievements, including the El Badi Palace. However, he spared the Saadian Tombs — probably because he feared bad luck if he desecrated them and was superstitious that the spirits of the dead would pursue him. He satisfied himself with sealing up all but one obscure entrance from the Kasbah Mosque. 

Moulay Ismail Ibn Sharif completely stripped the nearby El Badi Palace but left the Saadian Tombs intact. Was he nervous about disturbing the spirits of the dead?

The Saadian Tombs gave us a sense of the former grandeur of the El Badi Palace. Heads up that the various chambers are off limits to the public, but a path winds past them, letting tourists see them from outside, much like peeking into a diorama. 

While the tombs are cordoned off to human visitors, felines are another matter. We witnessed more than a few cats and kittens napping on their cool tiled floors. 

If you enjoy Islamic architecture as much as we do, then a visit to this funerary monument and tribute to the Saadian legacy is a must. –Duke

 

Notre-Dame Before the Fire

We passed by Notre-Dame de Paris every morning during our week-long visit. Now you can admire some photos of the famous cathedral before the damage from the 2019 fire.

Wally jumps for joy in the beautiful garden behind Notre-Dame Cathedral, which glows a warm pale yellow.

It was the perfect morning tradition. In 2013 we visited Paris and stayed at our friends Michael and Kent’s apartment in Montparnasse. A few days into our trip my parents arrived and Duke and I would ride the Métro to meet my parents, who were staying at a cute little hotel on Île Saint-Louis. We got off on Île de la Cité and walked past Notre-Dame, before crossing the bridge to meet my mom and dad at the oh-so-Parisian Saint-Régis café at the foot of the street. 

Wally’s parents stayed on the neighboring isle, so Notre-Dame was a short walk away en route to the Métro.

We felt so lucky to have this morning ritual: a stroll past what is arguably the world’s most famous cathedral, with its beautiful gardens and statues of saints and gargoyles peering out from its façade. 

Saints alive! (Actually, the fact that they’re saints means they’re long dead.)

Gargoyles (chimères en français) do double duty: They scare away evil spirits and act as rainspouts.

While impressive, the interior has always struck me as a bit too claustrophobic, gloomy and choked with incense — more suited to a mystery religion to honor a pagan deity than to inspire awe in the Catholic God. I’m much more of a Sacré-Cœur type of guy.

The sides of the cathedral are dark, lit only by candlelight.

Sometimes we’d drop my parents off at their hotel in the evening. We saw the cathedral in all kinds of light. It was the backdrop to our vacation. 

An electrical short most likely caused the fire that damaged Notre-Dame in 2019.

Notre-Dame and the Fire of 2019

Because Notre-Dame was such an integral part of our trip and an iconic symbol of Paris, it was with great shock and sadness that I watched news footage of the fire that consumed the cathedral on April 15, 2019. It was horrifying and heartbreaking. 

The blaze started in the attic (who knew Notre-Dame even had an attic?!), causing the spire to plummet like a spear, piercing the stone vault of the 850-year-old cathedral. The most likely cause? An electrical short.

The spire, designed by Eugène Viollet-le-Duc, melted from the heat of the blaze, plunging down into the heart of the church. It once pointed heavenward 295 feet high.

Two of the biggest issues from the fire are toxic lead from the melted spire and damage to the flying buttresses, which support the vaulted ceiling.

Les pompiers, the French firefighters, had been trained how to handle such an emergency. They used low-pressure hoses and focused on saving priceless artworks and the bell towers. 

While the damage wasn’t as devastating as it could have been, one of the major issues now is that the roof and spire were made of lead, which melted and poured the toxic liquid into the damaged building. Some of it formed stalactites of sorts that remain to this day. 

And the very structure of Notre-Dame is at risk: The architectural innovation that supports its vaulted ceiling, the flying buttresses, tottered dangerously, threatening to collapse the structure before being shored up by temporary wood bracing.

Here’s hoping that this magnificent cathedral is someday soon renovated to its former glory. In the meantime, here are some of the photos we took on our visit before the fire. –Wally

Notre-Dame served as the backdrop of Wally and Duke’s trip to Paris.

I never promised you a rose garden — but there’s one behind Notre-Dame.

Duke in front of the bell towers, which were a priority for firefighters to save.

Duke puts Wally on a pedestal.

The carvings on the façade of Notre-Dame are quite ornate.

Notre-Dame is one of the most impressive examples of Gothic architecture.

This guy has lost his head. Saint Denis of Paris was a 3rd century bishop who was decapitated for his religious beliefs.

Adam and Eve — and the serpent, depicted as a temptress

A tarnished bas-relief

Sharp angles and monsters on Notre-Dame’s exterior

Creepy (but cool) gargoyles, their screams set in stone

Medieval griffons form this geometric pattern.

Sculptures of the kings of Judah line the façade of Notre-Dame, which was dedicated to the Virgin Mary.

One of the more hideous gargoyles seen at Notre-Dame

The main aisle of the cathedral is narrow — though surely groundbreaking at the time of its construction.

Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

A statue of Joan of Arc (known as Jeanne d’Arc in her native France)

H is for…?

The stained glass windows add vibrant splashes of color to the otherwise gloomy interior.

Light a votive candle and admire one the famous Rose Windows.

Doubting Thomas pokes one of Jesus’ wounds after the resurrection.

A container in the cathedral is filled with letters people have written, one supposes, to God.

A model of the cathedral

Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris
6 Parvis Notre-Dame
Place Jean-Paul II
75004 Paris
France

 

The Crumbling Ruins of El Badi Palace in Marrakech

Once praised for its massive scale and beauty, El Badi Palace soon became a mere shell of its former grandeur. Only storks now call it home.

A ruined palace sits within the medina of Marrakech.

It must have once been quite a spectacle. El Badi Palace was commissioned by Ahmad al-Mansour, a Saadi sultan who ascended to power after his brother’s untimely death in 1578. Its financing came from ransoms paid by the Portuguese to release their prisoners who had been captured and enslaved following their defeat after the Battle of al-Qasr al-Quibir.

A ransom paid by Portugal financed the construction of El Badi Palace.

Al-Mansour and the Battle of Three Kings

The young and impetuous King Sebastian of Portugal wanted to reclaim coastal Morocco for his country and intended to convert the Muslim populace to Christianity. He combined forces with the deposed sultan al-Mutawakkil, who had his own aspirations to reclaim sovereignty. 

When King Sebastian, al-Mutawakkil and their troops landed at Tangier, they were met by Sultan Abd al-Malik and his men. Within a mere six hours, the Muslim army easily forced the invading Christians to retreat to the port city of Larache — but while fleeing across the Wadi al-Makhazin at high tide, Sebastian and al-Mutawakkil drowned. 

Exhausted from combat, Abd al-Malik fell ill and expired the following morning. In the end, all three died. For this reason, the event is also known as the Battle of Three Kings.

“Al-Mansour asked his court jester what he thought of his palace complex.

The jester replied, “It will make a magnificent ruin.” ”

Was this stork once a human being? Or is it off to deliver a baby?

Say Hi to the Storks: Visiting El Badi Palace

While staying in the Marrakech medina, we spent a day trying not to get lost and seeing the sights, including El Badi Palace. 

Outside the site are shops. An open-air restaurant with charcoal braziers filled the air with oily black smoke. Enormous storks nests that could easily accommodate the three of us have taken up residence atop the remains of the rammed earth walls. The storks of Marrakech are considered to be holy animals. Even before the arrival of Islam, an old Berber belief held that storks were actually transformed humans. As a Westerner, I’m only familiar with storks delivering babies.

The silhouettes of storks seen at sunset. The birds find niches in the ruins of El Bahi Palace to build their nests.

Wally, our travel buddy Vanessa and I paid 10 Moraccan dirham (about $1) at the kiosk located outside the palace. We entered through a towering doorway and found ourselves enclosed in a massive bare-walled chamber open to a cloudless blue sky. These are the ruins of the Qubbat al-Khadra or Green Pavilion. The two-story pavilion most likely had a pyramidal roof of green terracotta tiles, a common material of the period. 

El Badi means the Incomparable One.

Nothing Compares 2 U: The Incomparable Palace

The name of the palace derives from one of the 99 names of Allah given in the Qur’an, and translates to “the Incomparable One.” It served as the reception palace of al-Mansour, who spared no expense in building his lavish monument to the Saadian dynasty and its growing power. 

While the palace was widely acknowledged in its time as a spectacular architectural achievement, it was plundered for its rich decorative materials only a century after its construction. However, you still get a clear sense of its monumental scale. The courtyard features four symmetrical sunken groves planted with lemon and orange trees surrounded by footpaths and separated by a large central basin, which was dry upon our visit but once provided irrigation for the orchards. 

The sunken courtyards house small orchards of citrus trees.

It took nearly 16 years over the course of Sultan al-Mansour’s reign to complete, using materials imported from numerous countries, including onyx, Carrera marble from Italy, gold from Sudan, cedarwood and ivory. Walls and pathways were covered with multi-colored glazed zellij tiles arranged in geometric patterns. 

The zellij tile floor is the one section of the palace with some color.

We met a fussy tomcat who at first craved our attention and then just as quickly grew fickle, batted a paw and hissed at us. (I think it was an angry jinn who became unhinged as we didn’t have any scraps of food to offer it.)

Sixteen-century Moroccan architecture during the Saadian period was heavily influenced by Andalusian decorative traditions, an Islamic architectural style that spanned across North Africa and Spain. El Badi’s layout follows a rectilinear grid similar to the Court of Myrtles at the Alhambra in Granada, Spain, but on a much larger scale.

Foreign ambassadors of the time gushed about El Badi’s unparalleled beauty and grandiose domed pavilions: In addition to the Green Pavilion, there’s the Qubbat ad-Dahab (Golden Pavilion), the Qubbat az-Zujaj (Crystal Pavilion) and the Qubbat al-Khayzuran (Khayzuran Pavilion). According to a plaque outside the latter, Khayzuran comes from the Arabic name for wild myrtle and is believed to have been the harem’s quarters. 

I’d suggest bringing bottled water and sunblock, as the site is mostly exposed. Although there isn’t a dress code, it’s respectful to stay modest wherever you go in Morocco. Wally and I both wore linen pants, and Vanessa covered up appropriately. 

It’s too bad the grandeur of the palace didn’t last long. Moulay Ismail stripped El Badi and repurposed the materials to build a new residence in nearby Meknès.

El Badi’s Short-Lived Beauty

Less than a century after the construction of El Badi, the 17th-century Alaouite Sultan Moulay Ismail decided to move the capital from Marrakech to Meknès, and spent over 10 years systematically stripping El Badi of its riches to reuse for his palace in the new capital city. 

This could explain why, as far as ruins go, El Badi might have once been astounding, but now it just doesn’t inspire much awe. That being said, according to local lore, al-Mansour asked his court jester, who was in attendance at the official opening, what he thought of his palace complex. The jester replied, “It will make a magnificent ruin.” And indeed it does. –Duke

If you have a few days in Marrakech, you should visit El Badi Palace. If time is limited, skip it and do the souk and Jardin Majorelle instead.

El Badi Palace
Ksibat Nhass
Marrakech 40000
Morocco

 

The Quirky Charms of the L’Isle sur la Sorgue Sunday Market

Part flea market, part farmers market, stalls line the river that encircles this town in Provence known for antiques. 

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is entirely surrounded by a canal, like a watery hug.

We learned about L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue from ma mère. She’s always been good at research and finding fun excursions as well as amazing places to stay on vacation. I still recall that she and her fellow librarians in Annapolis were among the first ones to realize the potential of what was then an upstart search engine named Google. 

Dave and Shirley wait for Wally and Duke to stop goofing off inside an antique store.

A toast to a wonderful little Provençal town! Wally and Duke get fancy with their cafés crèmes.

While we were staying in Aix-en-Provence (those Provençals sure love their hyphens), the Shirl, as we affectionately refer to my mom — sometimes even to her face! — informed us of the Sunday market in a nearby medieval town named L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. Most of the small towns in Provence have their charms, but what makes this one so downright adorable is the fact that it’s encircled by a river — hence its name, which references an island on the River Sorgue. The Sunday market stretches along the water’s edge halfway around the town.

Pretty much everywhere you look in Provence is stinkin’ cute, like this small square.

Round and Round in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue

We got up early on Sunday morning to catch a train to L’Isle. (I’m not sure if that’s what locals call it, but L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is just too much of a mouthful to say every time. For the record, the town is pronounced, “Leel sur la Sorg.”)

There were once many watermills in town — now all that remain are the algae-covered wheels.

Bridges crisscross the canals, and now and then you’ll pass large wooden wheels in the water, covered with beards of green algae. They’re now fenced off and just there for show, the mills they were once connected to long gone. Et bien sûr, with the canal surrounding the town, it has earned the predictable nickname “the Venice of Provence.” We were there back in 2017, but more recent photos reveal that they’ve run with this, and the river is now filled with gondolas. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Aw, heck, who am I kidding? Duke and I would have totally caught a ride in one.

Wally had a delightful day exploring the L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue Sunday Market.

Duke takes a break on one of the back porches that line the River Sorgue.

About 300 stalls are said to set up each Sunday, selling everything from secondhand goods to saucisson. 

We didn’t purchase any bull sausage.

Right as we entered the town, we passed a table with various representations of the Provençal mascot, the cicada. (Learn why this lovely part of France chose a bug as its symbol.) We admired an iron trivet shaped like a cicada. Not sure we wanted to lug it around all day, we uttered that famous phrase of many a traveler: “We’ll get it on the way back.” 

But then I remembered having been burned before: You never know where the day will take you, or if the vendor will sell out or pack it up early. So I forked over the requisite francs (actually, by this time it was probably euros, but that doesn’t have as nice a ring to it). The trivet still sits in the windowsill above our kitchen sink. 

The charming vendor who had the Shirl blushing

The Shirl’s Suitor

One section of the market opens up into a square filled with various stands selling food items. A diminutive man, who wasn’t even as tall as my 5’2” mother, with a prominent nose and a beaming smile, called out to us as we passed by. He zeroed in on the Shirl, and started flirting with her something fierce. He shamelessly ogled her, showering her with compliments, wrapping his arm around her back, unphased by the presence of my father. He was so full of energy and was so amusingly slick, we all just laughed at his antics. 

Tasty Mediterranean spreads

The samples and the flirting are free!

He was selling various tapenades and other spreads, and offered to have us try some free samples before realizing he had run out of bread. 

So he told us, “Un moment,“ and darted off to a nearby stall, where he snatched a baguette. It looked like he stole it, which cracked us up — though I’m sure he has an agreement with nearby vendors. 

He sliced the bread up, slathered on some of his colorful spreads and batted his eyes at the “belle madame.” He was so utterly charming and over the top, we felt obliged to purchase quite a few jars of his wares. 

One of many charming vistas in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue

At one point, the Shirl stopped to admire a scarf. It was blue, of course. We joke that my mom likes lots of colors: blue and white and…blue. 

She put the scarf down and moved on through the crowd. We waited till she was out of sight, and then Duke snatched the scarf and bought it for her as a Christmas present. He’s sneaky that way.

Vintage toys line the back wall of one shop.

Gone Antiquing

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is also known for its antique shops. The town’s reputation as an antiquing hub draws crowds from all over Europe, and prices tend to be high. Peter Mayle, he of A Year in Provence fame, famously groused, “The only thing you can’t get in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue is a bargain.”

Despite being steeped in the fancy heirlooms of the past, L’Isle has a playfulness to it. Most of the stores don’t take themselves too seriously. You’ll find a statue of a giraffe statue peeking its head up amongst birdcages or a smiling clown looking to have his finger pulled. 

No antique snobs here! The town has a whimsical feel.

Wally clowns around.

We hit a bunch of shops after wandering through the market. One was situated right on the river’s edge. It seemed to balance precariously over the water, like the slightest push would cause it to totter into the Sorgue. We peered out the back door and chuckled over an amusing vignette: In the middle of the river, two chairs sat partially submerged at a table.

That’s one way to cool off and take a break.

Inside the two-level store chock-a-block with antique bric-a-brac, we rummaged through a bin of hand-painted numbered tiles until we found two 5s, which we passed off to my parents, who purchased them to use as their house number. 

I mean, how cute is this glass? Wouldn’t you steal it, too?

Many of the buildings in L’Isle are painted bright colors like this sunshine-yellow bistro.

The wait was too long at this restaurant, so we headed to another establishment, where we had delicious salads for lunch.

The L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue train station, which meant that another fun excursion had come to an end

We grabbed lunch at a café and sat on a small balcony over the river. The glass my beer came in was so cute, complete with a cicada, it somehow found its way in my bag. Karma ended up catching up with me, though. Because we hadn’t been back in our vacation rental for five minutes before the bag bumped into a wrought iron gazebo-like structure by the kitchen, and I heard the glass shatter. C’est la vie! –Wally

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Indian Handicrafts Meet Modern Design: A Q&A With Harpreet Padam

Traditional techniques inform modern consumer products — all within the framework of the Indian aesthetic. 

Harpreet Padam of Unlike Design Co. explains a detail to some of the artisans he collaborates with.

Scrolling through Instagram (one of my favorite hobbies), I was instantly impressed by the well-curated feed of Harpreet Padam (@generalaesthetic). It features images of places and objects found or designed by him. 

Recently, I saw a post featuring an article Harpreet wrote for Big Little Things, a magazine that celebrates thoughtful design and living. In the article, Harpreet describes his lifelong love for traditional Indian handicrafts and his collection of childhood objects filled with special memories and their influence on his designs. 

“A better, exclusive understanding of Indian-ness is something I really strive for through my work.”

— Harpreet Padam, co-founder, Unlike Design Co.

Harpreet is the co-founder of Unlike Design Co., and his creations include the Petal series of tea scoops that have an organic feel to them and were developed in collaboration with woodworkers from Udayagiri, Andhra Pradesh, India. His Bidriware is produced by craftspeople in Bidar, Karnataka. And I’m particularly partial to the miniature houses inspired by the vernacular architecture of Srinagar, Kashmir. 

We were thrilled to connect with Harpreet, who shared a bit about his influences, design background, favorite objects and the enduring legacy of artisans. –Duke

Tell us about your design background.

Honestly, the impulse to study design came about for me by a poster I found in an apartment that the previous tenant, a furniture designer, had left behind. It was a neat collage of industrial design works by the French architect and designer Marc Held. I still have the poster and keep in touch with Marc every now and then. 

I went on to study at the then very respected accessory design department of the National Institute of Fashion Technology in New Delhi. 

After graduating, I worked for six years as a designer, then design head at a fashion accessory firm in Bangalore. It was a wonderful team, and I got the opportunity to design jewelry, home products, store windows, brochures and even a store interior. 

 Eventually, I was drawn to packaging and graphic design for Indian fashion brands. My partner, Lavanya, and I established our studio Unlike Design Co. — first in Bangalore, and now in New Delhi. We do a mix of projects, ranging from home accessories, craft-based objects, graphics and packaging. Both of us also teach at various design schools across India. 

Harpreet looks to traditional Indian culture to create a new, non-Westernized take on contemporary design.

How would you describe your design philosophy?

I look at design as very closely related to business and culture. The experience and understanding of the client as well as the softer nuances within the lives of the user influence my thinking greatly. 

A better, exclusive understanding of Indian-ness is something I really strive for through my work. 

I am also always thinking about how the words “modern” and “contemporary” apply to India and our people. The way designers like myself have been trained and the early influences we have developed as a result of that, our understanding of these words has been shaped largely from a Western viewpoint. My mind struggles to think afresh as an Indian living and working amongst the Indian masses — I think this struggle forms an important part of my design philosophy.

What are some of your favorite objects that you’ve picked up on your travels? Why are these important to you?

 I really like this set of wire puzzles we picked up on the Ganges riverside in Varanasi. The man who sold them used to make them himself. The puzzles range from simple to sheer mind-benders. On subsequent visits, I couldn’t find the man again, and the pieces I had bought earlier became more special.

Harpreet picks up keepsakes on his travels, like these wire puzzles bought along the Ganges in Varanasi.

Then there is this block of wood which I found in a wood turner’s workshop in Kashmir. It’s some sort of a shaping tool, though the artisan was using it as a seat. According to the family, it is very old and made of a rare hardwood exclusive to Kashmir — I forget the name now. I think I enjoyed its multipurpose perception and its naturally aged look. 

Hapreet found this shaped wood block at a workshop in Kashmir.

There are so many more things, found by the roadside, in hardware stores, in people’s homes, rejects during workshops. Lavanya and I collect a lot of such things, get really attached to them, and end up filling cupboards and boxes to the brim.

Artisan Khatoon Bi uses her hands as well as her feet to carve a Petal teaspoon for the Udayagiri wooden cutlery collection.

Who are some of the artisans you work with?

At the moment, I am working with embroiderers, woodcarvers and papier-mâché makers in Kashmir. I also work with a family of Bidriware makers and a community of women cutlery carvers in South India.

A Kashmiri woodcarver’s workshop

What appeals to you about traditional handicrafts?

I enjoy the struggle of aiming to create a kind of new relevance. In the past, a lot of traditional handicrafts were seamlessly integrated into the lives of their users — through intelligent combinations of their function, appearance, significance. Artisans nowadays are a bit detached from a firsthand understanding of consumer lifestyles — sometimes even within their local environments. 

I like the attempt of acting to bridge this understanding — just nudging and guiding a bit. It’s magic to witness an artisan thinking for him- or herself about a new product. And they do it more intuitively than designers. It’s also design, I guess, helping someone with the confidence to think for themselves.

Master craftsman Abdul Rauf works with Harpreet on the Bidriware product line.

Another important thing for me is changing perceptions about traditional handicrafts, especially for young design students, who find the whole subject boring and stuffy. I think I’m able to achieve this to some extent when I teach my craft-based design course at the National Institute of Fashion Technology. 

Prototypes for Unlike’s Srinagar Houses

How have you given traditional handicrafts a modern twist, as in your Srinagar Houses miniatures?

I didn’t have to do much more than spot significant details of old Srinagar houses that stood out for me. And this happens naturally when you visit Kashmir — the older architecture stands in sharp contrast to the more universal style of building prevalent now. 

So I simply made small models of what I saw, and the artisans improved upon it with their own thoughts. Though we did attempt to paint details of windows and brickwork onto the houses, eventually we left them gray. 

The minimalism of the Srinagar Houses lends them a modern feel.

I was inspired to do this by a conversation with one of the traditional artists, who was joking when he said it’s better not to paint windows and doors since the Kashmiri people are almost always under curfew and house arrest. I think that stark grayness, coupled with strong architectural features, gives them a modern feel.

Architecture like this in Bidar helped inspired Unlike’s Bidriware.

What have been your biggest influences as an artist?

Most of all, I think it’s the opportunity of traveling and meeting varied places and people. And then I think it’s also an equilibrium of mish-mash from films, magazines, books, writings and work of designers, artists, filmmakers and the like. 

I spent my late school years studying in and around Corbusier’s Chandigarh and that did affect my view on architecture and design, in a deep way that’s hard to describe. 

I also really admire the writings of the late Italian designer Ettore Sottsass and the work of Vico Magistretti, his fellow designer of the time. 

And then Indian cinema of the 1980s and early ’90s — such films as Ek Doctor Ki Maut by Tapan Sinha, Aakrosh and Ardh Satya by Govind Nihalani, Mathilukal by Adoor Gopalakrishnan and Sadma by Balu Mahendra. I wish my work could imbibe that level of starkness in thought, the honesty and courage to address issues head on — even in commercial products and the way they are made.    

Traditional techniques are used to create the Convention vases in Unlike’s Bidriware line.

Explain some of your favorite traditional techniques, and how you’ve applied them to your work, as in your Bidriware series.

In Bidriware, I think I’m still learning more about the possibility of techniques. In my last extended interaction, I enjoyed learning about the hollow-core casting technique. Unlike many Bidriware objects, this technique does not weld two symmetrical halves to create a hollow object, which is a simple but crude way to do it. The method employs sand casting to achieve a completely hollow form, without visible joints. 

Moreover, the artisan I have been working with is extremely skilled at creating hollow molds out of solid forms — it is magic watching him employ decades of skill and dexterity in the few moments it takes to achieve this. 

I used both these specialities of the artisan for a series of flower vases called Convention.

Share something that you think would only happen in India.

Oh, our roads. The astonishing synchronicity of traffic, animals and people moving in any and all directions of their choosing. I’m not sure any other country can match that.

Overnight in the Sahara Desert

No trip to Morocco is complete without a camel ride to a Berber camp at Erg Chigaga. 

The tents are spacious and have carpets lining the walls to keep the warmth in.

There are some adventures that offer a one-of-a-kind experience that simply can’t be passed over. For Wally and me, an overnight at a Berber camp in the middle of the Sahara Desert fell into this category.

Besides, the road trip from Marrakech takes you to some amazing stopovers, including Atlas Studios and Aït Benhaddou. 

“The camel was wide-eyed with fear or fury, rearing its head and making terrible Chewbacca-like warbles. 

“Nous avons peur!” Wally exclaimed, which translates to “We are scared!””

Look how happy being in the beautiful and vast Sahara made Duke, Wally and Vanessa!

On the Road Again

After spending the night in Ouarzazate, Wally, Vanessa and I set out with our driver, Barak, to Erg Chigaga. Prior to our trip, we had debated at length whether to set off for the desert from Erg Chebbi or Erg Chigaga, and settled upon the latter — perhaps just because it sounded a bit like Chicago.

The landscape beyond Ouarzazate is covered with scrub and jagged rocks. Hillsides are mostly barren, covered with loose-looking boulders and thorny bushes. The rock color shifts from mountain to mountain — red ochre at first, then a sulfurous basalt green and finally a deep coal black. The large angular red rocks of the Anti-Atlas range jut out in a staccato formation like massive fallen Jenga blocks littering the mountainsides.

Unfortunately, even remote places like the Sahara aren’t immune to pollution. Disposable plastic bags of blue, faded rose, green, pale lavender and yellow littered the landscape like deflated balloons.

The Sahara isn’t an immediate vast expanse of sand — the first hour or so of our camel ride was over semi-rocky terrain with green outcroppings here and there.

Draa Valley: It’s a Date

We passed through Zagora, the last major town, 60 miles outside of the small rural outpost of M’hamid El Ghizlane, our departure point for our desert adventure. 

Zagora is located in the fertile Draa River Valley and was originally known as Tazagourt, the singular of the plural Tizigirt, Berber for Twin Peaks, referring to the mountains that flank the village. A sea of lush green date palms lined the road, seeming to stretch endlessly. Since they happened to be in season, they were heavy with ripening fruit. Dates are a big agricultural business in Zagora and are sold roadside, in local shops and in the markets of Marrakech. I regret that we didn’t stop and try some.

We purchased bottles of water at a small shop while a little boy with a Spider-Man backpack watched us curiously from an alley across the street.

Upon arrival in M’hamid, we were a bit shocked when we pulled into a dusty parking lot that was literally across the street from the desert. The three of us decided to use the restroom before heading out. It was the foulest bathroom I’ve ever been in, and the stench haunts me to this day. 

Camels aren’t the most pleasant creature to ride upon.

Zou Zou le Fou Fou: The Camel From Hell

Something wasn’t right. As we were queuing up to be paired with the camels we would be riding out to the encampment in the middle of the Sahara, one was noticeably smaller than the others. Crouching on all fours, the camel’s front right leg was folded up and bound with what looked like an Ace bandage. The animal was wide-eyed with fear or fury, rearing its head and making terrible Chewbacca-like warbles. 

Barak presented the camels with a flourish. We all took a step backward simultaneously, staring at him, wide-eyed. Wally, who can speak French, asked if there was another camel we could ride instead of the bucking bronco. Barak asked the handlers, then shook his head no.

“Nous avons peur!” Wally exclaimed, which translates to “We are scared!”

Barak could see the terror in our eyes but tried to assure us that Zou Zou, for that was the camel’s name, would be perfectly safe. He explained that she was young and her leg was tied up like that because that’s how they train camels to kneel for passengers to climb on top of them.

Wally muttered that the camel’s name should instead be Fou Fou, a play upon the French word for “crazy.” 

After we all stood there, staring in horror at the thrashing, spitting Zou Zou, Vanessa bravely volunteered to ride her. We thanked her profusely, and she shrugged and said she figured she was the lightest.

Camels spit and eat shit, and riding them is a bit like being on a slow-mo mechanical bull.

Wally rode Mujeres, an ironically named male camel (it’s the word for “women” in Spanish). Mujeres enjoyed stopping to eat Zou Zou’s dung nuggets en route to the camp, which was funny, disgusting and annoying all at once. My camel’s name was Mimoun. He was mostly well behaved, aside from periodically making a series of unpleasant gurgles.

All aboard the camel train! We caravan out to the middle of the Sahara.

Camel Ride 

The camels were tethered together and led by a guide on foot. We had an hour-and-a-half camel ride out to our encampment. There’s a saddle of sorts, covered with a doormat-sized rug and a pair of handles not unlike those found on a bicycle. 

Guidebooks tend to gloss over the fact that a camel’s awkward gait makes for a bumpy ride. It’s basically like riding a mechanical bull.

Our guide whipped out his cell phone and chatted away, which took us out of the moment. “Who knew they’d get better reception in the middle of the desert than in some parts of Chicago?” Wally quipped.

Vanessa takes a selfie while camelback.

Guidebooks also neglect to mention that the desert isn’t all drifting dunes. We expected the desert to start with a dramatic line of sand like you’d see in a cartoon. But the first leg of our journey into the Sahara was rocky and punctuated by gnarled outcrops of mastic and cypress trees. 

It wasn’t until we got closer to camp that the foliage disappeared, the sand turned an intense orange, and the ergs, or sand dunes, emerged. 

Duke explores our Berber encampment.

Berber Camp

The camp consisted of several tents whose interiors were covered with blankets. Upon arrival, we were served what locals love to call “Berber whiskey” but is disappointedly mint tea, a sign of hospitality. It was all a bit surreal being surrounded by nothing but dunes and knowing that we were halfway to the border of Algeria, which was undergoing some political unrest at the time. 

Wally got up early to climb a dune for a moment of zen.

There was a tent for eating and separate tents for sleeping. Our desert companions included a large group of Dutch travelers. They tittered as they asked our guides if they had a magic carpet, could charm snakes or summon genies. (Wally and I, by contrast, know that jinn are no laughing matter. In fact, we blamed them for our camera having malfunctioned, causing us to lose most of our photos of the trip. Once again, shoutout to Vanessa for sharing some of her photos with us.)

Vanessa and Wally hanging out at camp. There’s not a lot to do except admire the view — and experience traditional Berber music around a bonfire at night.

We arrived at camp just as the sun was setting. The sky changed from pink to amber to a deep blue before darkening to an intense black as soon as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. I let my mind wander and hummed a few bars of “Tea in the Sahara,” a song by the British band the Police, inspired by Paul Bowles’ bleak novel The Sheltering Sky. 

Vanessa in our tent

Duke and Wally lounge in the tent, glad they didn’t have to share it with any of the boisterous Dutch travelers.

The stars were absolutely incredible and the three of us laid down on the sand outside of our tent to look up at the night sky, feeling utterly small and at peace. After a while, we joined the group and sat around a bonfire, listening to our hosts intensely play drums and sing ritual Berber music. 

The sand in the Sahara blazes a bright orange.

You’ve probably heard that while deserts can be scorching hot during the day, they get to be surprisingly cold at night. We awoke the next morning and put on our sweaters and scarves. Much to Wally’s relief, no scorpions had crawled into his boots.

Wally and Duke were glad they took a couple of days to travel to the Sahara.

The beauty of the sunrise was amazing — it’s not every day that you begin by leaving a tent to climb a sand dune in the Sahara Desert. The sunlight made the ochre grains of sand glow, and we sat there for a bit in a meditative state. It almost seemed disrespectful to break the silence with our voices.

As we rode our camels back to Erg Chigaga, we began to feel the effects of the previous day’s trek. As mentioned, camels are not comfortable rides. With their arched backs and their lurching around, shifting me almost comically sideways, I found myself tightly gripping with my legs. After our ride, all three of us had a piercing pain right in the taint, which Wally coined “camel crotch.”

Obligatory cameltoe pic

We would have liked to spend more time in the desert, but we had to get on the road for the long journey back to Marrakech. The trip was about eight hours, returning through the treacherous turns of the Atlas Mountains. As we neared Marrakech, I noticed storm clouds on the horizon. –Duke

 

Road Trip! Marrakech to the Sahara

The death-defying hairpin turns in the Atlas Mountains are worth it. With stopovers at Aït Benhaddou and Ouarzazate, a big part of the fun is the journey to Erg Chigaga for an overnight in the Sahara Desert. 

A stray dog looks off at the Atlas range, surely thinking deep thoughts…like how no trip to Morocco is complete without a sojourn in the Sahara.

There was one thing we knew we couldn’t miss out on while Wally and I planned our itinerary for Morocco with our friend Vanessa: a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a desert adventure. We decided upon a three-day and two-night Sahara excursion through Imzi Tours.

The familiar sound of the muezzin’s voice broadcast over the speakers of the nearby Koutoubia Mosque in Marrakech woke me from my slumber at 5 a.m. When the alarm rang an hour later, I thought I’d half-imagined the call to prayer, asking Wally and Vanessa if they had heard it, too. 

“Nothing can quite prepare you for being a passenger in a car maneuvering the tight cliffside turns with low guardrails found throughout the Atlas range. ”

By the time we got dressed, it was only 6:30 in the morning, so the kitchen at our riad, Alwachma, hadn’t opened — which meant we were served an abundance of carb-laden fare that left the three of us longing for the cumin-dusted fried eggs we had enjoyed the day before. Our breakfast spread consisted of msemen, a traditional flatbread cooked in a frying pan. It reminded me of a chewy square-shaped pancake, but was described best by Wally as “crêpe jerky.” This was accompanied by another unleavened bread, matloua, the Moroccan version of an arepa, which was served with preserves, freshly squeezed orange juice and French press coffee. 

We had to get an early start for our desert excursion because Marrakech is roughly 225 miles from Zagora and the dunes of Erg Chigaga, though we had an overnight at Ouarzazate. At 8 a.m., the three of us met our guide and driver at the end of Derb Bab Doukkala, the cobblestone alley outside our riad.

His name was Mubarak, but he went by Barak. After asking our names, he promptly gave us Berber names: Vanessa was Fatima, Wally was Mustafa, and I was Ali. Vanessa whispered a theory that I was inclined to believe. She said Barak gave us Berber names so he didn’t have to remember our real ones. But what the heck, it’s all in fun, right? 

Moustafa, Ali and Fatima…err, Wally, Duke and Vanessa stretch their legs and admire the view on a road trip through the Atlas Mountains in Morocco.

It’s a long ride to M’hamid, the launching point for the camel ride to the desert camp, but Barak assured us that there’d be plenty of stops along the way. Our first day would take us to an argan oil cooperative, Aït Benhaddou and Ouarzazate, where we would be spending the night. 

Our driver Barak, posing with our friend, Vanessa. He was a fiercely proud Berber and expounded about his people at length.

The Free People: A Lesson About Berbers

As we sped along National Route 9, Barak explained that there are several different types of Berber tribes, the semi-nomadic people who inhabit the Sahara. Two of the largest populations are found in Algeria and Morocco. Their livelihood revolves around traveling with their livestock as the seasons change.

The name Berber was ascribed to the oldest known inhabitants of the Barbary Coast of North Africa. The term stemmed from the Greek bárbaros, used to refer to any foreigner, and which is the root of the derogatory term barbarian. It’s understandable that Berbers prefer to call themselves Imazighen, which means “Free People” in the indigenous Tamazight language.

Berber on a motorbike: A man whizzes by in traditional Berber garb.

The southern Atlas and Anti-Atlas Mountains are home to the Shilha, the largest Berber tribe in the country and often viewed as having the “purest” dialect: Tashlheit, the most commonly spoken in Morocco.

Riffan or Rif Berbers speak a dialect called Tarafit. The smallest Berber population in the country, this group stays within the bounds of the Rif Mountains.

In the Middle Atlas are the Zayanes, who spread from Fès in the north to Marrakech in the south. Their dialect, Tamazight, varies wildly from region to region but is usually intelligible by native speakers. Some Zayanes, particularly those near Ouarzazate in the south, are still nomads. 

It’s astonishing how much work goes into extracting oil from the argan nut.

Argan Oil Women’s Collective: A Tough Nut to Crack 

As we entered the High Atlas Mountains, the undulating surface of the surrounding landscape resembled gray-green fleshy folds of walrus skin peppered with errant bursts of green scrub. In other parts, it was like driving through the Grand Canyon. A frequent roadside sight are the paddle-shaped limbs of the nopal cactus bearing prickly pear fruit in varying states of ripeness.

Argan trees are indigenous to the Atlas Mountains. They are thorny, drought-resistant trees that bear a hard yellow fruit. 

Argan trees are quite tenacious and can grow on rocky outcroppings. The oil from their fruit is used in cosmetics and cooking.

Our first stop was a roadside argan oil cooperative shop whose parking lot was littered with desiccated argan fruit husks. Inside, Berber women demonstrated the manual labor required to make this “Moroccan gold.”

Collectives like the one we visited help provide women with lucrative employment.

One pair was seated and cleaved the inner nut with a sharp stone to extract the kernels. Another pair ground the roasted kernels between two slabs of rock into a paste that resembled natural peanut butter. A woman who served as a guide told us that two types of oil are produced — one is used in cosmetics while the other is used like olive oil in cooking. 

Because the extraction process is labor intensive (it takes between 25 to 30 kilograms of argan kernels to produce 1 liter of oil), the government has established a fund to help ensure the success of cooperatives like this. UNESCO has designated the 10,000-square-mile argan growing region as a biosphere reserve. This empowers the women who produce the oil, providing them with fair wages, an opportunity to improve the welfare of their families and safe working conditions.

The trio of adventurers reach the highest point in the Atlas range — and, indeed, in all of North Africa.

Tizi n’Tichka: High Point of the Atlas Mountains

Whenever we stopped to take a photograph anywhere along Route 9, a local man or boy emerged from the rocks brandishing geodes split open for us to see the glittering crystalline structures inside, some artificially dyed a vibrant pink or blue. 

We passed dozens of beaten earth houses, many of which appeared to be uninhabited, although we learned from Barak that this wasn’t always the case.

The houses in the mountains are made of local materials and, as a result, are practically camouflaged.

Laundry is put out to dry in the sun on the rocks of the Atlas Mountains.

Before making our descent into Ouarzazate, known as the Gateway to the Sahara, we reached the highest point of the Atlas Mountains. At an elevation of 7,410 feet (2.260 meters) above sea level, Tizi n’Tichka is the highest mountain pass in North Africa. We stopped for a moment to take in the incredible views and an obligatory photo, of course. 

We were sure we’d never make it through the mountains alive, as Barak sped past large trucks winding through the switchbacks of the Atlas.

Nothing can quite prepare you for being a passenger in a car with a driver maneuvering the tight cliffside turns with low guardrails found throughout the Atlas range. Since this route is shared by trucks and other large passenger vehicles, the three of us would lean to the opposite side every time Barak passed a vehicle on the narrow lanes, in hopes that this would help prevent our car from toppling over the edge. 

You definitely have to stop off at Aït Benhaddou en route to the Sahara.

Hollywood in the Desert: Aït Benhaddou and Atlas Studios

One of the coolest stops en route to the Sahara was the fortified village of Aït Benhaddou. Barak told us that the oldest dwelling in what he called a kasbah was built in the 11th century, though UNESCO dates the oldest construction “to be no earlier than the 17th century.”

Wally thinks the ancient structures of Aït Benhaddou look like sandcastles.

Regardless, the atmospheric desert dwellings have been so well preserved that it has captured the imagination of Hollywood. Several productions have been shot here including, The Sheltering Sky and The Mummy. In fact, a large artificial entrance had been constructed for the Daenerys storyline in Game of Thrones — but unfortunately, they weren’t going to start filming for another month or so, much to Wally’s dismay.

Many movies set in Ancient Egypt have been filmed at Atlas Studios in Ouarzazate.

Speaking of Hollywood, the next stop was Atlas Studios in the town of Ouarzazate, where numerous desert-themed movies have been filmed. For some reason, our guide was enthralled with Steven Segal. The group we toured with was predominantly French, with a small group of English-speaking Brazilians. 

Most of the sets were made of fiberglass with back supports of bamboo scaffolding. I was intrigued by the false perspective and scale used in the spaces to trick the eye. 

Hopefully Les Jardins de Ouarzazate has been upgraded a bit since our visit.

Les Jardins de Ouarzazate Hotel: I Never Promised You a Rose Garden

Atlas Studios also boasts an exclusive 10-suite hotel aptly named the Oscar. Perhaps we should have stayed there instead of Les Jardins de Ouarzazate, which was included in our tour package.

At the time we visited, back in 2012, the hotel had clearly seen better days. A layer of dust and grime covered everything inside the expansive lobby and I half-expected to see Miss Havisham from Dickens’ Great Expectations descend the tiled stairs.

Our room, at the top of the stairs, had a foul smell, so we were upgraded to a private suite off to the side of an unkempt but beautifully wild rose garden and swimming pool. Both rooms were dark, and when we went to take showers the following morning, the water was cold.

An old man kept pacing around the pool. Vanessa thought he was lost; I thought he was a Peeping Tom; but Wally fabricated the most amusing story: The geezer was wandering around looking for Arab boys. “Is this where the Arab boys are?” Wally said, mimicking an old man’s voice, while I laughed. “I thought I saw one come back here.”

The highlight of our stay was our waiter. He was quite jovial, so we nicknamed him Giggles. He asked us if we were doctors because we were all wearing glasses. 

There was a little kitten that stayed next to me throughout dinner. It took all of my willpower not to toss it a scrap of food.

Breakfast was a buffet of fly-smothered, day-old croissants loosely covered with cloth napkins.

Mediocre hotel aside, the interesting stopovers make the journey to the Sahara as much fun as the overnight in the desert itself. –Duke

The Beautiful Bahai Temple in Chicago

What is Baha’i? What’s the history of the Baha’i Temple in Wilmette, Illinois?

The beauty of the Bahai’i Temple makes Wally jump for joy.

Those of us who live in the Chicago area are familiar with the Baha’i Temple — though most know nothing about the religion itself. We’ve seen glimpses of the structure on the North Shore and have been drawn to it, where we discover that it’s a gorgeous building that makes for a pleasant visit to spend a short time wandering its gardens and admiring its intricate stonework. 

Which is exactly what we did one weekend with our friend Kate during the COVID-19 pandemic. We weren’t able to go inside the temple, but to be honest that’s not too big a disappointment. The interior isn’t all that impressive — a large, open space that’s unadorned, in stark contrast to the ornate exterior. OK, the interior of the dome is gorgeous. But that’s the extent of the beauty inside, I promise. 

“The Earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens.”

— Bahá’ulláh, founder of Bahá’í

An illuminated manuscript of Baha’u’llah’s writings that was presented to the British Museum in 1913

What is the Bahá’í religion?

It’s a relatively new faith, having emerged in the Middle East in the 1840s. A Persian teacher known as Bahá’ulláh preached a religion founded on the principles of peace, equality and the unity of humankind. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? 

Bahá’ulláh, the founder of the Baha’i faith, might look stern — but he was really all about peace, love and understanding.

To Baha’is, the soul is eternal and should be illuminated by focusing on kindness, generosity, integrity, truthfulness, humility and selflessness. That’s exactly what this world needs more of, if you ask me.

At a Parliament of the World’s Religions meeting in Chicago in 1893, the United States was introduced to Baha’i. (By the way, it’s pronounced “Buh-high.”) Despite being proclaimed as one of the world’s fastest growing religions, it never caught on big time, and I’d wager that most Americans aren’t familiar with the faith. 

But by 1900, there were about 1,000 Baha’is living in the U.S. and Canada. Worldwide, the faith’s adherents now number around 5 million.

Duke and Wally spent a pleasant day with their friend Kate, circling (and admiring) the Baha’i Temple.

Do they have a prophet or savior like Mohammed or Jesus?

Like Muslims, the Baha’i believe that Mohammed, as well as Jesus (along with Abraham, Moses, Buddha, Krishna and Zoroaster, for that matter) was a prophet — just not God’s final prophet. Divine revelation, to them, is not final but ongoing; there will be other prophets in the future. Maybe the next one will be female.

The Baha’i faith sees all people as equal — a view that doesn’t fit with conservative Islam — and has led to persecution since its inception.

How have Baha’i been treated over the years?

It’s sad that a religion that preaches acceptance has suffered so much oppression and violence. Perhaps it’s telling that no temple exists in Iran, the birthplace of the faith. The Baha’i messages of religious tolerance, gender equality, universal education, and elimination of all prejudice and racism don’t jibe well with many conservative religious entities, and the faith is viewed as a heretical branch of Islam. As such, countries including Yemen, Egypt and Afghanistan have persecuted and imprisoned Baha’is on the sole grounds of their beliefs. And Iran has a history of torturing and killing Baha’is, closing their schools, banning their literature, and denying their rights and marriages.

Worship for Baha’is is very personal and freeform, devoid of rituals and clergy.

What is worship like for Baha’i?

The freeform, personal worship certainly won’t appeal to everyone, especially those who find comfort in religious rituals. My ex became interested in Baha’i, but the lack of any sort of pomp and circumstance never appealed to me. I have always been more drawn to Wicca, which has a similar acceptance of all faiths, seeing them as symbols, but has the flair of magic spells.

In keeping with the Baha’i philosophy of egalitarianism, everyone is welcome at their temples, and there isn’t any clergy. Ceremonies happen on only a few holy days each year. Typical worship consists of sitting there quietly, praying or meditating on your own. 

It’s also encouraged to get involved in social projects in your community. 

The COVID pandemic meant most people had to stay closer to home, so Wally and Duke headed up to give the Baha’i Temple another visit.

What is the Chicago Baha’i Temple’s history?

It began with the purchase of a couple of plots of land along Lake Michigan in 1907, north of Chicago in what is now the town of Wilmette. Because it was funded by individual contributions, the project was delayed, much like Gaudí’s La Sagrada Família cathedral in Barcelona, Spain (which is still being built, by the way). The Chicago Baha’i Temple was further held up by the two World Wars and the Great Depression. The foundation stone was laid in 1920 and construction ended with the temple’s formal dedication in 1953. 

The temple was built from 1920 to 1953 and is composed of a variety of architectural styles.

Who designed the Chicago Baha’i Temple?

Louis Bourgeois, a French Canadian who had been a Baha’i for over a decade at the time, got the commission. He wanted the building’s design to reflect the beliefs of the faith: the oneness of humanity and the unity of all religions. To really run with this symbolism, he designed a conglomerate of various architectural styles: Neoclassical symmetry, Gothic ribbing, a Renaissance dome, Romanesque clerestory and Islamic arabesques on pillars that hint at minarets. And while that sounds like an unpleasing Frankensteinian mishmash, it somehow all comes together gracefully.

The carvings on the nine pillars feature symbols of the world’s biggest religions: the Christian cross, the Jewish Star of David, the Islamic star and crescent moon — even the swastika of Hinduism, Buddhism and Jainism. 

That swastika causes a lot of controversy — but that’s just because people don’t understand that Buddhists and Hindus have used that symbol long before the Nazis co-opted it.

Bourgeois’ vision was to create “a gathering place for all humanity.” When describing his design, the architect said, “There are combinations of mathematical lines, symbolizing those of the universe, and in their intricate merging of circle into circle, and circle within circle, we visualize the merging of all religions into one.”

Ornate scrollwork depicting symbols from major world religions covers the building’s façade.

What’s with the repetition of the number nine?

To a Baha’i, nine is the most sacred number. As the highest single digit, it’s a potent symbol of comprehensiveness as well as unity. In addition to the nine columns, there are nine entrances, nine verses above the doors and alcoves and nine fountains. 

Each column is topped by a nine-pointed star, the symbol of Baha’i.

The nine columns around the exterior are each topped with a nine-pointed star, the symbol of the Baha’i faith.

Small pools and fountains surround the Baha’i Temple.

How many Baha’i temples are there?

The original idea was to have one house of worship on each inhabited continent (sorry about your luck, Antarctica), and the one in Wilmette, known as the Mother Temple of the West, remains the only one in North America. It’s also the oldest Baha’i temple in the world. (The first temple was built in Ashkhabad, modern-day Turkmenistan, in 1908 but was commandeered by the Soviets and later badly damaged by an earthquake before being demolished in 1963.)

The temple outside of Chicago is the only one on the continent and is supposed to serve all of North America.

Here’s a list of Baha’i temples around the world:

• Wilmette, USA

• Santiago, Chile

• Panama City, Panama

• Kampala, Uganda

• Langenhain, Germany

• Sydney, Australia

• Apia, Western Samoa

• New Delhi, India

Other national or local Baha’i houses of worship are planned for the Democratic Republic of Congo, Papua New Guinea, Cambodia, India, Kenya, Colombia and Vanuatu.

If you’re in the Chicago area, consider a trip north of the city to visit the Baha’i Temple.

What about the gardens?

The gardens are an essential design element at all the temples. There’s one in front of each of the nine entrances to the temple, featuring rectangular as well as rounded elements, revealing influences both Western and Eastern.

Wandering through the gardens with our friend Kate, we kept circling the temple, admiring its beauty. The circumambulation can be meditative.

Who’d have thought that the delicate beauty of the Baha’i Temple was achieved using concrete?!

What is the Chicago temple made of?

Would you believe that various materials were suggested, including limestone, granite, terracotta and even aluminum, before they decided upon concrete?

This didn’t go over so well, as people feared the material lacked beauty. But a fifth-generation stone carver named John Earley devised a technique inspired by Italian mosaics. He exposed the larger pebbles in the aggregate of the mixture, which gave the concrete an unusual warmth. And when you see the final product nowadays, there’s no denying its lacelike beauty that seems to glow, earning its nickname as the Temple of Light and Unity.

Sadly, neither Bourgeois nor Earley lived to see the temple’s completion. –Wally

Kate wasn’t the biggest fan of this shot. “It looks like you’re in front of some office building,” she said. Wally looked at the pic and replied, “That’s some office building!”

Bahá'í House of Worship
100 Lindon Ave.
Wilmette, IL 60091

 

Atlas Studios: The Hollywood of Morocco

Ouarzazate, a stopover en route from Marrakech to the Sahara, is where blockbusters and TV series, including Gladiator, Kundun, The Mummy and Game of Thrones, were shot.

If you’ve seen a Hollywood movie set in the desert, there’s a good chance it was shot at Atlas Studios. The Mummy, Gladiator and Kingdom of Heaven have all filmed sequences here.

On the well-traveled route from Marrakech, almost all roads lead tourists heading to the Sahara Desert through the city of Ouarzazate (pronounced Wahr-za-zaht). It looks like a sleepy town, and, indeed, its name is derived from the local Amazigh dialect for “without” (ouar) and “noise” (zazt). 

But under the surface, the Gateway to the Sahara has a few surprises up its sleeve. Just minutes from the town center is a major motion picture facility. Though there’s no Hollywood sign visible on a hillside, there are faux pharaonic statues and a pair of iron gates emblazoned in gold letters with the name Atlas Corporation Studios. 

“You can really see through the illusion when you go around back and realize that it’s all supported by bamboo scaffolding. ”

The working movie studio, which takes its name from the vast mountain range that surrounds it, was established in 1983 by Moroccan entrepreneur Mohamed Belghmi, who recognized the need for a permanent film facility in the region. He promoted Morocco as the perfect setting for virtually any Middle Eastern location — think Biblical epics and Ancient Egyptian myths. Perhaps he took a cue from British producer David Lea, who, in 1962, saw the potential of Ouarzazate when they needed a desert location for Lawrence of Arabia. 

It’s all a façade (literally!) at Atlas Studios. What at first appears to be a temple is actually just a front supported by scaffolding.

Lights, Camera, Action!

When the cameras aren’t rolling, public tours of the studio are offered, and that’s just what Wally, our friend Vanessa and I did after visiting the UNESCO World Heritage site of Aït Benhaddou en route to a camel ride and overnight in the middle of the Sahara. The entrance fee is 80 dirhams (about $9 at the time of this writing), though ours was included as part of our tour package.

Our driver dropped us off outside of the complex, where we joined a small group and guide leading a walking tour of the studio. 

Just a sampling of the many movies and TV shows filmed at Atlas

The first thing we saw after passing through its gates was the elaborate interior set of a Tibetan temple, one of the soundstages constructed for the 1997 film Kundun, Martin Scorcese’s biopic based on the life of the 14th Dali Lama. The track used by the cameraman during production is still in place on the floor of the set. 

Fun fact: Extras from Tibet were flown in to lend the movie authenticity. 

You can see the track used for the camera in Kundun. It’s this kind of behind-the-scenes looks at movie production that make a visit to Atlas Studios so fun.

Beyond the temple lies a replica F-16 prop jet plane used in the production of The Jewel of the Nile (1985), starring Michael Douglas, Kathleen Turner and Danny DeVito. 

While the sets at Atlas are impressive, they pale in comparison to the real deal, obviously.

Taking a Peek Behind the Curtain

From afar everything looks real — but once we got closer, it became clear that it’s all smoke and mirrors. Walls are actually false fronts, their sides sculpted from polystyrene and concrete. But you can really see through the illusion when you go around back and realize that it’s all supported by bamboo scaffolding. More than a few were weathered and worn by the passage of time and desert air. 

Hang in there, Vanessa!

Not sure if you knew this, but Wally’s a witch.

On one lot, the three of us found ourselves in a medieval square that was surprisingly small. But the buildings’ exteriors use forced perspective, which, when seen through a camera lens gives the illusion of being farther than they really are. Incidentally, this was where the scene of Russell Crowe’s character, Maximus, getting sold into slavery in Gladiator (Ridley Scott, 2000) was shot. 

We were quite charmed by the Egyptian temple sets, the largest of which were used for Asterix & Obelix: Mission Cleopatra, a French film based on the comic, starring Christian Clavier as Astérix, Gérard Depardieu as Obélix and Monica Bellucci as Cleopatra. 

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The global hit series Game of Thrones converted one of the Atlas backlots into Pentos, one of the Free Cities of Essos, where Daenerys Targaryen lived in exile early on.

Vivid technicolor Egyptian temple interiors. I wonder what the hieroglyphics translate to?

Atlas’ Massive Productions

In terms of scale, Atlas is one of the largest movie studios in the world. At 49 acres, it’s equal to the length of 37 football fields. It’s so vast that there’s confusion as to where sets end and the sprawling desert begins.

When a film finishes production, the sets are typically left behind, with new ones built nearby for the next shoot. The end result is a studio that grows larger each year. That means many big-budget productions are left in situ, though some are recycled and reworked for other features. 

Atlas acts as a stand-in for many countries of the Middle East, but Egypt in particular, as attested by the numerous set pieces, like this ram-headed sphinx.

Visiting the studios was one of the highlights of a trip filled with astounding adventures. It was a fascinating glimpse behind the scenes. We weren’t sure what to expect and were pleasantly surprised. Our guide was friendly and gave us plenty of time to take pictures. If you’re looking for an interesting day trip from Marrakech or happen to be en route to the Sahara, you should definitely add Atlas Studios to your itinerary. –Duke

Special shoutout to Vanessa for sharing her photos with us. Our camera’s memory card got fried on this trip and we lost most of our photos.

Is that the Ancient Egyptian temple of Karnak?! Oh, it’s just a replica at Atlas Studios in Morocco.

Atlas Movie Studios
Km 5
BP 28 Route de Marrakech
Ouarzazate, Morocco