Marrakesh (Morocco)
The first feeling was that an invisible avalanche was taking over my room. The quake seemed to come from above, accompanied by a sound that I associated with the improbable bursting of countless water pipes. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was in an earthquake. Seismic tremors occur suddenly and do not broadcast any announcements.
I had arrived in Marrakech by train from Fez six hours earlier. I went to dinner with the friends I was traveling with at the Moroccan restaurant Le Tanjia, in a square that would become a refuge for families whose homes were destroyed or damaged by the earthquake. But at that moment there was no idea what would come next.
We were back at the hotel at 11:11 p.m. and I was just about to fall into bed after a tiring day. Then the room began to vibrate. Not knowing exactly what to do, I went under the doorframe that led to the bathroom there was no table or other structure to hide under. Everything went very quickly.
As soon as the shaking stopped, the voices and footsteps of other guests invaded my room. My friend José Carlos knocked on my door to see if I was okay. Fernanda, who completes our travel trio, called me via WhatsApp from her ground floor room I was on the first floor.
I don’t know exactly how, but minutes later I was dressed along with my friends and other guests and following the instructions of Ismail, the heroic manager of our riad, named after the typical Moroccan buildings with courtyards that include the windows and doors of the rooms open.
We all went to a nearby square where Marrakech residents and tourists were gathering, not knowing what to expect. Like earthquakes, possible aftershocks occur suddenly. I started searching the internet for information and statistics about earthquakes, hoping to convince myself that we were safe. I’ve discovered a new term, “foreshock,” a tremor that can be followed by an even stronger tremor. I began to be as scared as the children around me.
It wasn’t until Saturday morning that I realized how much we had been spared. Apart from two large broken vases, our riad was undamaged. Despite the shock and fear of aftershocks, we returned to our rooms early in the morning and managed to get a couple of hours sleep.
As we ventured through the streets near our hotel in the morning, we found debris from collapsed facades and roofs. Some roads were impassable. In the square where we had eaten dinner the night before, families lay spread out on small rugs on the ground, waiting to be taken to shelters or given permission to return to their homes. When I looked at La Tanjia restaurant, I saw that the roof of the building next door had collapsed.
The region most affected by the Marrakesh earthquake was the medina, the medieval walled city that forms the heart of the city. More than a thousand people died across the country, most of them in the Atlas Mountains, the epicenter of the earthquake.
Marrakech’s main mosque, known as Koutoubia, was damaged after its 12thcentury minaret was rocked by the quake. A stunning scene was captured on video. In the nearby Djemaa elFnaa square, the city’s main tourist attraction, bulldozers cleared away the rubble of another partially destroyed mosque.
Tourists like us mingled with the residents on the streets in an incongruous environment. Instagramworthy photos have been replaced with shots of the debris. Despite the destruction, shops and stalls remained open, with foreigners engaging in one of the most important local activities: bargaining. Tourist attractions have been closed and it is unclear when they will reopen.
Outside the medina, Marrakech was spared. In Guéliz, the district of wide avenues laid out by French colonizers, there was no sign of destruction. Cafes and restaurants were open as normal. The only expression of tremor was the closure of some large stores such as H&M and Adidas.
Back in the medina, life slowly returned to normal in the late afternoon. At Djemaa elFnaa, lines of carts waited for tourists, and several artisans and vendors began to take over the square waiting for the crowds that throng it every night.