Mohammad the Cobbler

3/6/09
As some of you know, I set out on this journey with just one pair of shoes. A pair of Johnston and Murphy, Italian leather, Italian crafted brown dress shoes that I picked up in Hawaii for $5 at the goodwill but that retail for about $600 new. They were in perfectly new condition when I got them. Damn nice shoes.

In the USA, I had my shoes shined in various cities. Boston, New York, San Francisco, and without a doubt, the best shoe shine in the USA came from San Francisco. Boston ranked second and New York came in a distant third.
In Spain and Gibraltar, I didn’t find a shoe shine, and though I took care of my shoes on my own, the wear and tear of about 5000 miles started to show on them. By the time I arrived in Morocco, the upper had started to separate from the soul and I was using epoxy I had bought in Granada to hold them together, then the heel started to come off and the epoxy again saved the day. While there are numerous shoe shine guys in Morocco and lots of cobblers, I opted to go it alone with the epoxy.
Then I met Hanane and ended up buying a pair of nice leather loafers for around $13 (100 dirham) . When I left Sefrou, I left my trusty shoes behind and Hanane told me she would drop them at a cobbler for me to be repaired. Her family makes a fuss over many things and one of them was me not having slippers to walk around in so I bought a pair of slippers in Marrakesh too. When I came back after a week, Hanane told me the shoes were at the cobbler and had been there five days.
As related before, we went there and nothing had been done. Hanane then told me that to get the shoes repaired, we would have to stand there and harang Mohammad the cobbler for the entire time. Indeed there was a crowd around his stall that was doing just that. And this sort of explained why my shoes had been ignored. We had no time and while he said it would take a half hour, I didn’t want to stand there for a half hour. So we left.
A week later, we went back, and there was a larger crowd around the stall than before. Mohammad expained that he had been sick and closed his shop for four days. After working our way to the front, we managed to get Mohammad and his oafish son to start doing something to my shoes, but then a very huge Moroccan man came up and threatened to become very angry if his shoes weren’t worked on. So his shoes were moved up the line. Then a shrewish woman came and began harping so much that no one minded that he move her shoes to the front of the line just so she would go away. The big man had had his shoes there for a month, so even without his size, I was understanding of his wanting his shoes done first and as to the shrew, well, she was absolutuly awful with a screeching voice and manner.
So we stood there in the rain for an hour with a constantly changing cast of Moroccan characters coming and goiing, berating and joking and despite the fact that we were both cold and both have colds and that we would have preferred to be somewhere else, it was actually impossible to be upset with Mohammad who is quite the comedian.
His jokes kept everyone who stood there laughing enough so that we didn’t form a lynch mob. There are a huge collection of shoes sitting on shelves in his shop, presumably from customers who have either died before having their shoes fixed or just given up on them. In the hour we were there, I learned quite a bit about how to fix shoes, by the time my shoes are done, I may know enough to open up a competing business across the street. At the least, I could open a cafe for his customers to sit, eat, and wait in, though, unless they stand at the door and constantly harangue, the work wouldn’t get done, so maybe it isn’t a reasonable idea.
So, at the end of an hour, we had to leave, but by this point the cobbler had undone my work with the epoxy on the front of the shoes, sort of badly glued the fronts back on with what I presume to be actual shoe glue, and that is about it. I suggested to Hanane that we take the shoes to somewhere else but she insists that they stay there.
Actually, I didn’t mind so much as it is the closest thing to local entertainment I have seen here in Morocco. I’m actually looking forward to going back tomorrow and going through it all again. It’s funny, Moroccans don’t go to bars, most don’t go to restaurants because they would rather eat at home and hence there aren’t really many restaurants, especially of the types we have in the west where you go in, sit, order, hang out with friends, etc. The cafe’s aren’t really equivalent to coffee shops since they are mostly places where men sit by themselves staring outward at the world and the choice of coffee is a single shot espresso or espresso with milk. Movie theaters are few and far between. There are some arcades and pool halls, but these are places you find trouble. The hammam seems to be a social gathering place, but how often can you really go without being weird. There aren’t stores with aisles you can wander down or through, instead you go to the door and tell the shop owner what you want and they retrieve it for you. You can wander in the souks and in the old Medina’s, but essentially, it is a matter of taking a walk through a crowded street unless you want to buy something.
So, yes, I feel anticipation to go watch Mohammad the Cobbler work on frustrated Moroccan’s shoes, bags, and leather goods again. I will take a picture of him for you next time.
By the way another thing missing in Morocco is Craigslist.