Mountain Village

At the end of the school term, the half day marks the last day of the grading cycle, rewarding our six weeks with an extra afternoon of weekend. This always becomes an extra half-day AT LEAST of grading, but it's fun to have the break in the schedule.

After grading for several hours on Friday, my fellow teachers and I departed for the wedding of one of the Moroccan employees to another Moroccan teacher. Najet and Morad had been engaged for some time, and they invited all their family, friends, and coworkers to the wedding ceremony. The Moroccan wedding ceremony involves everyone sitting on froshes around one or more central areas where snacks are served. A live band plays traditional music, and everyone dances for several hours. The bride and groom emerge together, get their photos taken with their guests on the elaborate wedding throne, and leave. Another hour of dancing follows. The bride and groom process through the room again, in different but equally elaborate and royal attire. Their friends crowd around them to take pictures, they leave, and the Arabic dancing resumes.

The fifth dress was accompanied by a headdress the size of five people, and the bride and groom each sat in small hexagonal platforms, and were lifted by their friends. The sixth dress was a white gown, in a semi-American style, and was accompanied by a beautiful cake. The bride and groom fed one another cake, and they were so sweet together.

After the wedding, Ethan and I left for the Mountain village of Taghassiline, where his friend Rachid and his family live. We stopped to buy a carpet and walked around the town a bit, and I left to make couc-cous with Rachid's sister Souad and his cousin Khadija, and his mother. While out to buy the cous-cous supplies, we discovered the store closed! "It's not a problem," said Rachid, and walked around the corner to rap on a door. "I know the guy." He knocked several times, to no avail, and started calling "Mohamed! Open up!" When this was met with no reply, he lofted a rock in the upper open window! "I guess he's not home," he concluded after a minute.

We found another place to buy our cous-cous supplies, and Souad explained the process as all the women helped to mix and pour and stir. All preparations were done on a blanket over the dirt floor, since their house has no furniture, but the cat was happy as this meant the cookpot was set on the floor. The cat immediately huddled beside it. We put the cous-cous on to steam for the first step and retreated back to the warm room. The warm room was devoid of furnishings besides dozens of blankets and a television. The blankets stacked on the floor to make the sitting area during the day, and spread out to make the family bed for the women at night. After the cous-cous dinner and an evening huddled together beside the fire, I slept here, between Souad and Khadija.

It was nice to be so welcomed into their lifestyle.