My unhealthy attraction to fire is well documented in family lore. My brother still delights in describing the time I set myself alight with gunpowder in 1977.
Since that time, I've tried to channel this obsession in directions that do not involve emergency room visits. Djema El Fna square lies in the center of Marrakech's ancient medina, and I joined the generations of tourists have come to watch snake charmers, story tellers and musicians perform. I thought it showed considerable restraint on my part to wait until dusk to go visit the fire-breathers.
