We're sipping mint tea on the terrace of the hotel CTM listening to the call to prayer and this is the view beyond the balcony. Marrakesh so far is a madhouse of tiny streets shares by pedestrians, street vendors, mopeds, and donkey carts. Last night at midnight the donkeys all had their tongues hanging out and semi feral cats were tearing into plastic bags full of garbage. While the streets aren't clean, it seems far more prosperous than Tunis or Cairo. Last night this plaza was full of food stalls, the air lit yellow with clouds of steam rising everywhere, like Bladerunner without the rain, and crowds of jamming Gnawa musicians making a great cacophony. Today the boiled sheep's heads and snail stalls are gone, and its men with monkeys, fresh orange juice, and fortune tellers. Wait, I think I hear the flute of the master musicians of Joujouka way off to the left - maybe it's time to head back down and explore some more.