Ahmed is about as tall as he is wide. He's balding, sports a scruffy mustache and looks smarmy -- and he probably is smarmy as rumor has it he was once in jail for murder but had the resources to pay his way out and set himself up as a card-toting official guide. Rumors are the lifeblood of Bab Boujloud so who knows if it's actually true. But looking at him and watching him operate, you can imagine how such a story got started.
I've never actually seen Ahmed nab any tourists for a guided tour of the medina but Lord knows he tries. He gives off an air of someone entirely untrustworthy and no tourist ever seems to fall for his patter. And yet, it must work from time to time because every morning he is outside the Blue Gate, scurrying to and fro as fresh tourists emerge from taxis and vans, holding doors open for them as they emerge and displaying the oversized, laminated badge he wears around his neck to proclaim his status as an official guide.
Watching Ahmed from the vantage point provided by one of the numerous cafes near the mosque is rather like watching a comedy routine unfold. His short legs seem motorized when he spots a prospective client and rushes from one end of the wide road to another to be the first to encounter the newly arriving tourists. He has lots of competitors about but he often seems to get to the tourists first. I watch him start his spiel as tourists try to get their bearings and either ignore him entirely or politely try to extricate themselves from his attention. They look over his head, which is not hard to do, confer with one another, pull out their maps and shake their heads as they attempt to walk on. Ahmed follows them for a bit, continuing to talk the entire time until the tourists can gain enough distance from him to make it clear they are not going to employ him for the proffered tour. Within two minutes, max, the tourists separate from him and enter through the gates unattended. Ahmed, never deterred, invariably turns on his heels looking for fresh prospects. Like a windup toy set on a flat surface after the key has been turned to its full capacity, Ahmed propels himself towards the next petit taxi turning the corner to open the door -- maybe even grabbing hold of the tourists' luggage to make sure they have to stop and talk to him.
Say what you want about Ahmed, he's a spunky bulldog and an integral part of the colorful cast of characters that populate Bab Boujloud. I never get tired of watching him.
I've never actually seen Ahmed nab any tourists for a guided tour of the medina but Lord knows he tries. He gives off an air of someone entirely untrustworthy and no tourist ever seems to fall for his patter. And yet, it must work from time to time because every morning he is outside the Blue Gate, scurrying to and fro as fresh tourists emerge from taxis and vans, holding doors open for them as they emerge and displaying the oversized, laminated badge he wears around his neck to proclaim his status as an official guide.
Watching Ahmed from the vantage point provided by one of the numerous cafes near the mosque is rather like watching a comedy routine unfold. His short legs seem motorized when he spots a prospective client and rushes from one end of the wide road to another to be the first to encounter the newly arriving tourists. He has lots of competitors about but he often seems to get to the tourists first. I watch him start his spiel as tourists try to get their bearings and either ignore him entirely or politely try to extricate themselves from his attention. They look over his head, which is not hard to do, confer with one another, pull out their maps and shake their heads as they attempt to walk on. Ahmed follows them for a bit, continuing to talk the entire time until the tourists can gain enough distance from him to make it clear they are not going to employ him for the proffered tour. Within two minutes, max, the tourists separate from him and enter through the gates unattended. Ahmed, never deterred, invariably turns on his heels looking for fresh prospects. Like a windup toy set on a flat surface after the key has been turned to its full capacity, Ahmed propels himself towards the next petit taxi turning the corner to open the door -- maybe even grabbing hold of the tourists' luggage to make sure they have to stop and talk to him.
Say what you want about Ahmed, he's a spunky bulldog and an integral part of the colorful cast of characters that populate Bab Boujloud. I never get tired of watching him.
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