Friday, November 9, 2012

wedding!


Dear ye, select few and steadfast readers of my dear blog, I finally have for you a real update. I know, right! I finally got up off my lazy ass, pulled myself out a a funk and did something…. Well not really my host sister got married so it would have been really shitty for me not to have gone, but went I did!

On this lovely election day (which I hope you all voted in) my host sister got married. Now, I say this but im not actually sure she did in fact get married today. I didn’t see the groom, I couldn’t pick him out of a line up, honestly I don’t know her husband from adam, but today was one (of 2? 3?) ceremonies. I showed up a little late, because by the time I got there at 3pm a bunch of ladies were mowing down on cous cous and my host sister was sitting on a tall couch wearing a fez embroidery dress with a big backdrop of a beautiful fezi tablecloth. Here’s a picture.. just kidding; because down here in berber back country we foreigners aren’t really welcome to take pictures, it’s strictly cultural. The wedding ceremony itself is segregated by gender, only younguns were allowed near the women, because these ladies let their hair down! Not really… they let their necks show but they are wearing these really cool bright yellow and red scarves with tassels that come down around the hair line and look like really funky hair. Anyways back to the pictures, according to my other host sister having me take a picture and possibly put it online is more or less equivalent to someone seeing them naked. So sadly, I have nothing to present here. I wanted to say I was planning on taking non stop artistic photo’s with faces omitted and hands and heads visible only, but it would have made people too uncomfortable so while it’s all still ripe and juicy in my head I’m going to write you all word pictures.

Fezi embroidery is really cool, really intricate and to me just a phenomenal piece of needlework. What makes it so unique is that it’s the same on the front and the back, so as an avid craft copier, who can generally pick something up and attempt an imitation (results vary) this embroidery is a serious puzzle. I could  not even fathom how to try to fake my way through this stitchery, I would definitely need to be taught (fingers crossed that it might happen this year at the women’s center) traditionally fezi is done on a white background with green thread, and the garment my host sister wore as well as the backdrop was no exception. The patterns were intricate and large, and really stunning, and served as her bridal throne background.

an example of fezi embroidery


So back to the beginning, I arrived as her henna was drying so she lay there prostrate her hands and feet covered in fabric and then covered in plastic bags. After everyone had finished eating everyone lounged around the courtyard area while her henna dried. Once the henna was set and match she changed rooms, ate some food herself, prayed and then changed into a lovely forest green and gold kaftan. Kaftan’s are a cool garment, usually containing some sort of glittery bling, long bell sleeves and a wide ass belt. Here’s a pic I snagged from the interwebs. They lent me a gold kaftan that fit me really well. picture to come later. 

a bunch of random ladies in a variety of kaftan's

Once everyone was ready, wearing some makeup the bride was paraded out to her sofa throne and a multitude of pictures were taken. There was a little bit of dancing and some music then there was some more sitting about. This was around 5 I think. From 5-10 I made friends with a bunch of kids most of which were around 8yo’s, and I have to say unilaterally 8 year olds are the best, I can get down with a bunch of little 8 yo’s, they laugh at my fake crying and play and dance crazy and make me feel super special. Later in the evening they gave me my own imaginary henna followed by an imaginary wedding and told me I looked like a queen. 8 year olds make me feel better about myself…. In a totally camp appropriate way. Anyways.

I also got to have a nice long chat with the lady part of the german couple who own a Kasbah (ait omar) here in n’kob, if you’re looking to travel to morocco, I suggest you stay here, it’s a truly beautiful place and they’re lovely people (and it’s veggie friendly!) anyways. During our conversation there was more drum playing and call and response sing-chanting, then the bride was paraded in again back in here fezi dress but this time covered in a veil that stayed on one way or another until the end of the night. After the bride sat down there was traditional line movement dancing with drums followed by the dance of the suitcases. The suitcases, I found out later, were filled with gifts (the luggage themselves also being part of the gifts I think…) these bags were placed on a litany of different women’s heads and danced in a closed circle. As a side tangent there’s a part of me that feels like Moroccan weddings are more for everyone else then they are for the bride. All night and day long this poor girl sat on her bridal throne, sure people came and sat with her from time to time but the rest of us could mill about and laugh and chat and eat together, she ate long after the rest of us with here sister under a sheet, still on her bridal throne. So that’s my small cultural observation.

After cous cous and stuff a huge part of the crowd left and then there was a little bit more of milling around before the sing-chanting commenced but behold, the bride is now on the floor covered by a sheet. I learned after that she was receiving a costume change into a beautiful teal kaftan and the aforementioned veil was then placed around her body into a very pretty pouffy covering. While the bride sat on the floor scarves that were given to her were placed on her head, I didn’t count but I would geuss there was somewhere near 20 or so. Once they all made their way onto her head they were held in place by a red cord with large circular sequins and tastefully small green pom pom type thigns. Then, accompanied by the beautifully haunting sound of the women doing call and response sing-chanting I believe the mother of the groom rubbed henna on the brides hands and feet then laced henna soaked yarn around her fingers and toes and secured them there. I also believe the more wearable gifts were then presented to her and she put them on. Once all of that was done the scarves were removed until only 4 remained, one covering her face, 2 covering the back of her head and one long sheer one going from her head to her shoulders. She really looked beautiful.

This wedding was really nice because I saw a bunch of people I’ve gotten to know this past year and I actually felt like I belonged here in a lot of ways, some of the women asked about when my classes were starting up which is always an ego boost, and being the hit of the kiddo’s is also an ego boost. But the wedding didn’t feel entirely joyful. There is something romantic, if it works out , in getting married to someone you don’t know, but to me it’s more of an idea that induces sheer terror and emotional mayhem. I could imagine some of that was present in my host sister as well. It’s almost as if she sat the whole time surveying all that she was about to leave, having people come sit by here one by one , people she will be saying goodbye to. After this wedding her life will irrevocably be changed (Sure divorce is legal and often accepted in morocco, but I don’t know if a lot of women can actually, culturally, take advantage of that right). Luckily she’s not moving that far away, only a few hours up the road into the city of ouarzazate, but in a culture where family is more or less everything, leaving your own has to be a tremendous challenge. I really admire that bravery.

As far as my first Moroccan wedding is concerned I’d give this one an A+. I feel kind of like I cheated because I didn’t have to do a whole lot of sitting around not knowing anyone in silence, because I knew a lot of people who attended, was entertained by chitlin’s and a lot of my friends who were there spoke English. But I was happy for the understanding repetitions of dirija, my feeble attempts at tashleheet and my poignant conversations in English. I feel like I learned  a lot today.