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Remembering in Fes and Sefrou

Photocollage and commentary by Tristan Brown.

Thinking of the end of our time together has led me to reflect on how we process memory. Will I
always remember how hot it was in Fes, or how cold it was in Paris? Will I remember how it felt
to drink mint tea on a summer’s day? I think of the forgotten synagogues of Morocco’s past, now
that most of its Jewish population lives in Casablanca. Reflecting on mint tea and memories, I
thank Normandy Scholars for a life changing journey.

Clockwise from top left: Bab Bou Jloud Gate, the main entrance to Fes El Bali, the medieval part of Fes founded in the ninth century and still maintained as a car-less network of winding streets that remains home to 100,000 Fassis; rows of mint growing on a pedagogical farm that hosted our farewell couscous lunch; waterfall in the town of Sefrou, 45 minutes outside of Fes; the synagogue in the Em Habanim Jewish school in Sefrou; antique books in the synagogue’s library.