First Day

The first thing anyone tells you when you’re doing construction in Morocco is that you need to be at the worksite every day to oversee the project. A lot of foreigners buy houses while on vacation, give marching orders to a contractor, and return months later to find things not quite as they’d envisioned. One of the reasons we felt we could take on Dar Noury is that we’re not going anywhere; we’re planning on spending each day at the house.

Today was our first day of construction, yet we didn’t venture to the house till after 7PM. Lazy, naïve wimps, you say? Well, we had our reasons, which we’ll get to shortly.

We aren’t ashamed to admit this project would be completely beyond us if it weren’t for Hamoud, whom we’ve hired to act as a sort of informal general contractor. He will, in turn, find us a labor foreman, plumber, electrician, plasterers, a woodworker, and all the construction supplies, not to mention help combing the flea markets for vintage sinks and appliances and furniture. By hiring subs to execute specific elements of the renovation, and especially by procuring all of the necessary materials- from copper tubing to cement – ourselves, we’ll be saving a lot of money. It’s commonly understood that if a regular GC sources these people and materials, he’ll charge a wopping premium. Instead, we get a shopping list from the various foremen, and off we go with Hamoud to hunt down the best possible prices.



Although we’ve based all our estimates for the renovation on Hamoud’s off-hand guesses, we’re anxious to keep as close to them as possible. So, we’re excited when he introduces us to the general contractor who did all the work on Riad Andrea, the house Hamoud manages, because the quality of the work seems up to par, and the project obviously went well enough that Hamoud is happy to hire him again. We take the man through Dar Noury pointing to where we want to install a tub, where we’d like to add doorways, where we need new tile work, etc. He takes this all in without writing down a thing and goes away to do an estimate. The next morning, he delivers a price quote that is exactly double what Hamoud had estimated. This is far beyond the realm of aggressive bargaining, and I smile and thank him for his time and let Hamoud show him the door. I’m rather upset, but Hamoud smiles and tells me that the man is “just fishing,” that he sees a foreigner and is angling for a payday. The next day, just as Hamoud had anticipated, the fellow returns and says that he miscalculated the work. His new price has dropped a remarkable 43%, but that still leaves it 15% more than we want and he seems unwilling to budge. We pencil the new number into our spreadsheet and go about meeting with electricians while we wait for the construction permit to come from our new government friends.




The day before the permit is to arrive, Hamoud bounds up to us, eager to share some good news. “I found a new man,” he says, “who will do the work for your price.” I’m dubious, so I ask for more details. Hamoud’s government friend took a liking to us, and recommended a man who’d done work on his own house. Hamoud met the man, and took him to Dar Noury without us. He went through the house and itemized room by room each project. Our jaws dropped as he remembered everything – there was not a single detail he’d forgotten. “And the tiles on the stairs, “ he says, pointing a finger at me in mild accusation, “you’d forgotten about the stairs.” In fact, he’d added several other small- and medium-sized projects to the list and the man had agreed to them all. That’s incredible, I say, how did you ever get him to agree to all that for our price? He smiles and shakes his head. “I told him this was my house, that the work was for me and not any Europeans, and so he agreed.” We both burst out laughing; it’s too good to be true. “I’m going to have him sign a contract for that price,” he tells us, “but until he does, you can’t be seen at the house.”

The next day our permit arrives, and today the work began. Hamoud came by several times to give us updates, but we were banned from the site. At 6:30, he came by and told us that the workers were gone for the day and took us over to see the work. “Be careful,” he says as we enter the house, “it looks like a bomb went off.”