Chapter 6 Chapter Four

Chapter 4 Free Streets and Alleys Section 14 Free Streets and Alleys (1) (1) The foreigner stared round, as if my Morocco schedule was short-sighted and perverted. "Aren't you going to Fez? You haven't heard of Fez? Then why are you going to Morocco?" But no matter how she stares, I can only say it again frankly, though ashamed: "Where is Fez? I really don't know Know." Now that I think about it, I still can't figure out how to solve this problem besides grinning and shaking my head. It's not easy.Fez?Everyone in China knows that even if it is Morocco, we probably heard the teacher read it at most once in the world geography class in middle school.Or I heard it chanted in the jingles of cross talk actors.Whether it is a barren land or rich than British and American, whether it is white or black brothers - we Chinese don't know.Relying on an American movie, many people have a "Casablanca" song lingering in their ears; but being in love with Casablanca does not mean knowing where Morocco is, let alone the inexplicable Fez.

I don't have that ambition.Unless China's terminally ill education system is reformed, there is no way to explain Fez clearly.Who can include both the situation of the Atlantic and the Mediterranean, the history of the Roman Empire and Arabia in a short article; both the life with strong sentiments and its position in the forest of nations? This remains for the future. The funny thing is, when I was skeptical, diverted my route to Fez, and actually made a trip there and came back—I was looking forward to doing it again almost immediately.Although the veil is still hidden from me, my understanding of it is far behind that of my foreign friends staring - but I have been fascinated by it.It is like a magical magnet, attracting people to miss it.The body does not come close to it because of the barriers of national boundaries; the soul pours into it uncontrollably because of its desire for mystery and beauty.

(2) At most, talk about the feeling of this city.No, maybe I meant to talk about architecture.No, I want to talk about the combined appearance of those magical buildings, their layout.No, like all shallow tourists, I was just confused by its intricate and endless alleys, as if I had taken a magic drug, as if I was drunk in the fascinating Arabian mood. I was thrown into the abyss out of thin air.The flat-roofed houses in Arabia are built and squeezed together, which is really "row upon row", and an alley and another alley naturally appear between the cracks. My eyes hurt from not being able to keep my eyes open; on both sides of the winding and changing alleys, every hole looked at me with shops.Every hut and small building, every facade and window is a shop, shop, shop.

Glittering like an eye-catcher is the resplendent marquetry.Next in the close row are painted pottery dishes that hang all over the walls.There are delicious delicacies and snacks overflowing from the fire, as well as spices, fur, silk, Fuji film, scriptures, woodenware, Moroccan robes, McDonald's, ironware, dyeing workshops, bank branches, elementary schools, seminaries, mosques, beautiful Double eyelids and big eyes, a donkey pacing along a one-way street, an old craftsman with a silver beard who glances at you, an Arab girl chatting in twos and threes, a child after class running around in an alley unbelievably—ah, all the living beings in the world Everything is in this dense alley and street that cannot be identified, let alone remembered, entangled and superimposed just like the so-called "a mess" in words, like a river flowing into countless ditches, noisy and flowing, Live vigorously...

I was surrounded by this flowing alley and went down the river. After a while, I completely lost my way.My mind is blank, I can't think, only excited.So wonderful, so unreasonable!You must know that this is not a small remnant of the old city. The entire ancient capital of Fez maintains this medieval style in its original colors and forms.I knew it was one of the world's cultural heritages before I came here; but I didn't expect that this cultural heritage is not like those places of interest and historical sites in China that have completely become "heritages" - the old city of Fez, including the bustling life of people today. Together, they are included in the wonders of human civilization and are included in the list of protection.The Moroccan youth who led the way (thanks to having such a friend! He is a staff member of the Carpenter Museum) was satisfied with my excitement, but he emphasized: "You must know the most incredible thing: the old city is still a commercial center today."

I followed him and turned a corner, and entered a sesame-sized square where seven or eight alleys converged.Dazzling copperware shone under the light, and the schoolbags on the backs of the flying children were flipping and flipping.Shop, shop, shop, only your tired legs are numb, there is no end of the alley or end of the shop. I was exhausted, sitting in the doorway of a candied sweets shop, staring at the mouth-watering things in the glass case. "This is the sum of five hundred kashgars," I said to my friend in the carpenter's museum, "rest, rest for a while." He asked me with concern: "Or don't go any further, let's just take a look at the ancient dyeing workshop?"

(3) In the extreme excitement and exclamation, I struggled to recover my thoughts.No, this is not the kind of city where you can leave after seeing the "attractions".Fez uses the full-scale Arabian Nights hidden in its belly to cast magic on visitors, making them drowsy in enjoyment and satisfaction.I just want to stay and not leave.This is a city that makes people want to call it home. why? Tokyo is so bustling and flowery, but I have no peace of mind during my stay.Even if I appreciate its cultural and religious beauty so much, even if I walk among the crowd like fish in water without language barriers and inconveniences, I still feel uneasy.After appreciating Jingyuan, I finally bid farewell to it.

But a small town like Fez rings a signal to me, like a provocative phrase.My heart fluttered; I suppressed my desire to devote myself to music, and I tried not to think about what would happen if I adopted such a lifestyle. Lo and behold, another Medellis—a school of madrassas.The sign says that it was built in 245 A.D., when China was in the midst of the Tang Dynasty.The building is already a treasure, and the treasures are so dense - I still can't get rid of the feeling of surprise in my heart; how is it possible?Such a lifestyle!People are in history and modernity at the same time, living in ancient cultural relics and mud huts, experiencing dreams and reality at the same time?

The inner hall of Medreis was brightly lit.In the orange light, some old people are giving an evening ceremony.The open side doors lead to alleys where bright girls are whispering.Children waited in front of the fried sweets stand, and donkeys laden with goods filed up the steps.After resting for a while, I walked along the path again. Every turn around was a gorgeous genre painting, and every up and down was greeted with more sultry music... It seems that everything is just for feasting the eyes.It seems that everything is just for regret in the visual feast.The world is so beautiful, but I am excluded from it.Drunk and dizzy, I hummed without realizing it, and let the path up and down lead me to wander around in this maze of thousands.

After walking for a few hours, I realized that what is amazing is not the architecture, but the assembly of architecture as a material.It is the streets and alleys, the mysterious map woven by the streets and alleys.People poured into it like flowing water, activating a miracle.What becomes a miracle is not the ancientness of the city, but the layout of the ancient city. Chapter 4 Free Streets and Alleys Section 15 Free Streets and Alleys (2) (4) Weaving is not enough to describe it.This kind of deep streets and winding alleys of the ancient city did not follow a single needle method when walking.It’s not enough to use running water to describe it; first, there are not so many intersecting canals; besides, the water flows to the lower places, and the alleys of Fez are three-dimensional—the ups and downs of every step and the connection of every hanging ladder make the city become a city. up multiple layers.Racking my brain, I can't deal with this kind of plane at all.How should it be expressed?What is its scientific name?

The guide told me that there was an expert named Dr. M•Ada who died young. He specialized in this kind of ancient city civilization. It is said that his works are magnificent and regarded as classics by the Arabs.If you came last year, you can talk to him. I can't find the vocabulary.I cannot generalize, describe and capture its spirit.I was just captured and taken away from my soul, my heart was filled with love and yearning, and my body was so soft that I didn't want to move.I feel the tittering, rushing, teasing of these magical alleys, and I just know that if I run after them I'll see the free spirit. Hey, free layout and free urban planning.Perhaps this characteristic of Arab cities could be named "liberal planning"?Or is it a kind of architectural liberalism without planning because it completely eliminates bureaucratic planning? ... It was very dark. Fith also disappeared into the darkness. In the guest book of the hotel, I saw a comment left by a tenant.Coincidentally, this tenant was as annoyed by Fez's magical layout as I was.In the article, he called this kind of plan and architectural layout—the urban layout of anarchism.I read it and was very inspired.Maybe the concept of anarchism conveys the unrestrained and rebellious spirit of freedom better than liberalism?Especially in this era when the concept of liberalism has been repeatedly trampled by American hegemony and domestic dwarfs. (5) Luckily, I have left a brochure of the Carpenter's Museum, which contains a partial floor plan of Fez. This is a strange map.It is strange—in order to mark the location of the Carpenter's Museum, it uses a scale of 1 cm = 20 meters, so that most streets, alleys, castle walls, courtyard walls and house walls appear on the map. In an instant I had solved this fatal problem. Perhaps to decipher the charm of Fez, you can try to start from the plane.Plans, plans, and layouts determine the temperament and spirit of a city.From Fez to Kashgar, and even the imaginative environments of the Arabian Nights; even if it takes a thousand and one angles to decipher their charm, the first one is the layout—the pattern of buildings and traffic roads. Free and unrestrained private buildings are built with neighbors' courtyard walls or back corners.A cottage that was even more modest than this was next to it, and it was eager to borrow three walls from it.Then there is a stall, and then there is a stone spring well.Three consecutive shops were built one after the other, but the semi-circular counter made the road turn a circle.On the side of the third shop selling scriptures, there stands a Maghreb-style square tower, which is connected to a small mosque in the community... During the description, a narrow alley has been winding for a long time, and after several times of expansion and contraction, it turned to the back at the three semicircular shops.There are countless alleys that have not been described, and there are infinite occupations, types, civilians, and public welfare buildings clustered around the front, back, left, and right.When you are in it, you only feel overjoyed but dizzy; only when you jump into the air and get a map-like view, you can admire Fez knowingly. Weaving, patchwork, flowing water, anarchy, liberalism—all can be carefully read from this partial plane.What a beautiful pattern this is!It does not need to be modified at all, it is just a strange pattern painting.If I were a fashion designer, I would print the 1:2000 floor plan of Fez directly into the silk material of women's skirts, make them curl up, and make Fez realize another layer of phantom flow! Late at night.I was in a small hotel in Fez, unable to sleep, watching the flickering lights of thousands of houses. One must love a city.Otherwise, a person is like a black magpie that circles three times around a tree without any branches to rely on.I imagined Dr. M•Ada's work on the civilization of ancient Arabian cities, and I guess he must have loved it so much that he chose it as his topic.But I have no city I love so much, no city I love so much that I would die for it.Amidst the roar of bulldozers modified from tanks, and the sandstorms raised by the brutal construction site, my city has long been regarded as a dilapidated building, demolished and destroyed. A confession at the end of the article: I actually only stayed one night in Fes.Not only due to various last resort, but also limited to various conditions.If I hadn't relied on the carpenter museum like a benefactor, I would have been reduced to a third-rate literati who fabricated false travel notes.I didn't follow my path and quickly make friends in the alleys, and I didn't seek lodging in Medelles or Minjia.I also failed to make them understand me through the language like I did in Kashgar, and then write an article after knowing it. I still use this corner map as an illustration, and let it explain it for me.And I gave up a bad idea that once flashed: cut off a corner of this map, and said in the article that it is a modern art painting.Then write from the bottom up, print from the middle to the four sides, and make up a Fez novel.More than one person has made a name for such novels, but their ideas are worthless and unworthy of the civilization we witness.I didn't finish writing about Fez; I just used it to express my love for the city I yearn for and my helplessness in giving up on it.