My First Moroccan All-Nighter, part I.

Yesterday and today, was my first Berber wedding here in the south of Morocco (which is actually the middle of the country when you include the Western Sahara, but you get the idea). I am a creature that thrives on sleep and food, and as a result of last night's party-hard-with-the-Berber-women attitude and exclusively-meat tagines, I am pretty brain-dead (and hungry, as I don't eat meat). I will try to break up the activities into periods of time, so you and I can both account for where the last 36 hours of my life went. Typos and poor choices of grammatical items might be prevalent.

Friday
1a: Bedtime, due to a late dinner and the kids getting douches (that's Moroccan for bucket-bath). In my previous life, I used to go to bed at 10p. I miss that life sometimes.

Saturday
6:30a: Good morning! Breakfast, getting dressed in outfit number one (a kaftan and amlhof), getting the kids ready to get out the door.

9a: catch the bus to the site of the wedding, maybe 25k down the road. Moroccans in my area don't typically own their own vehicles, so they're not accustomed to riding in a bus or car. What I'm trying to say is that vomiting is a common occurence on public transportation here, and the five Moroccans that I accompanied to the wedding ended up losing their breakfast. As they were all sitting next to me, it created this eerie stereo-effect, and had me (needlessly) questioning the strength of my own viscera.

I'm tough as nails, ladies and gentlemen.

Luckily, motion sickness passes quickly, and they were ready for a snack as soon as we got off the bus. We ate, bought some sugar to bring to the house per local custom, got in a taxi, and got to the wedding around 11a.

11a-7:30p: Breakfast, lunch, and tea were all served. Those early to arrive, like us, got henna-ed. There was a costume change (we all had two outfits for this wedding. Mine was a djellaba and amlhof), lots of sitting, eating and mingling, and a bunch of ahwash-ing (women singing, clapping and turning anything they can find into a percussion instrument). There was intermittent napping, but as I was a commodity (an American that looks like a Berber? That can't be possible!), I only got about 20 minutes in before I had to get up and explain again that I am not Berber-American, and that my family is from America, and that I speak English. I was also re-named Aicha, bringing the tally to five Moroccan names given to me in four months.

7:30-10ish: My first time seeing the bride was at 7:35p (I actually checked my watch), when the party migrated to the room with the bride and groom's decorated love-throne (love-seat just doesn't do that piece of furniture justice). More enthusiastic ahwash-ing, the passing out of dates and milk and a photo session with the bride and groom were the main focuses of this portion of the ceremony.

This is also when I got a phone call from my parents that there had been more fraud on my credit card, and that the credit card company needs to talk to me and not my Power of Attorney, even though the point of appointing a Power of Attorney is so I don't have to do the talking while I'm here. They gave my mom an in-country phone number to pass along to me, so I could call them.

The number doesn't work.
Do they even know where Morocco is?

10ish p-2a: Sitting and chatting, dinner, tea, more sitting and chatting and ahwash. I'm starting to lose it at this point. I want some vegetables and a nap!

2a-4a: The official ahwash celebrating the bride and groom. Held outside and in mixed company, this was the most vibrant part of the celebration for me, and everyone loved it. I went to bed at 4, though the celebration went on until about 5a, I was told.

6:30a: Wake up, breakfast, change back into outfit number one, out the door.

8a: We watch the bus that we woke up early to catch, pass us by as we're walking out the door. We're sad.

8-9:30: Waiting for a taxi home. I also learn that motion sickness is not only limited to buses.

10:15a: Home! Change clothes, freshen up and head out to souq for tutoring and a tea date.

I'll get on to describing the Berber fashions that I saw at this wedding, including the amlhof I was wearing, when I get some sleep. Look for an update on Wednesday, insha'Allah.

P.S. Happy Father's Day, dad! I love you.