Deep in the heart of the old city, or medina, of Marrakech, this man is knocking on the door of his house. A maid will answer and let us in. The door faces a small street, which is covered, quiet, dark, and cool in the hot summer weather.

What is hard to express in images is what it is actually like to be right here. The scale is very small--too small for a car, but well-suited to a moped or donkey or of course, the pedestrian. The question of individual houses is also hard to grasp. On the outside, the houses form a single, usually uninterrupted facade to the street. Only the door of the house is apparent. And the door of the house does not give us much indication about who lives there and their quality of life. We don't know from the door if they are rich or poor, Jewish or Muslim. We don't know how big thier house is. Everything is hiDDen, and only once inside do you have any idea of who and what the family is.

Mohammed is wearing a summer overgarment called the fouqiya. It is cool and flowing.