Moroccan AAERS (engagement party): luxury edition

So this weekend I decided to stay home and relax, assuming I wouldn’t have much to blog about but the everyday-life of my family. Boy, was a wrong. Today when I woke up, I got a text from my friend Lucy asking if I wanted to go to an engagement party with her at 2. I figured it might be fun and I should really get out of my house more, so I said sure. My family was eating lunch at 2, but I assumed that there would be lots of food at this party so I did not eat with them. Lucy told me to wear my jellaba and meet her at her house at 2; we both assumed that we’d be home within a couple hours.

PSYCH.

2:30 – we get picked up by her friend (Moroccan, but speaks English) and her mother in a VERY nice car.

3:00 – we pick up the girl’s sister from the salon, who happens to be the bride. Her hair is in a gorgeous up-do with tons of curls and some pearl clips embedded into it. She looks amazing.

3:30 we get dropped off in Sale (outskirts of Rabat) at a huge house and are told, “not to be shameful” (whatever that means?) and make ourselves at home. We walk in and a plethora of Moroccan women dressed in their fanciest jellaba attire greet us and welcome us graciously. They take us up several flights of stairs and we finally are told to sit in this large, beautiful room they call “the third salon”. We are introduced to a few girls around our age and then sit and wait another hour or two while more and more people come into the room. Many of the women are from Casablanca and after spending only a half an hour or so with them they invite us to their homes in Casa “whenever we wish”. They tell us we must come and “not stay in a hotel”. Everyone is super nice and Lucy and I are having a great time. By this time, however, we are absolutely starving. I woke up and had some Malawi for breakfast, and then went for a run…and did not eat afterwards. Lucy did not eat lunch either. It is now 5:30 and the party has not even begun. We are enjoying the company of all of the Moroccan women but are also tired and anxious to get the party started! At around 6:00 we are told to “yala!!” (get going) and we all go outside to greet the bride. We could tell the family was very well-off by the insanely decorative and luxurious house, but they also had hired camera men, two “singing” groups (which means a very different thing in Morocco than in America) and lots of help.

6:00-10:00 The first group was all male; they dressed in yellow robes with white hats and played different tambourines and drums. While yelling (chanting?) and singing in Arabic. After a couple of minutes a black car drove up and the bride-to-be got out dressed in a sparkly white and gold robe with a crown on her head and a veil behind it. Lucy and I looked at each other and simultaneously thought, “did we miss something? Is this the wedding?!” Indeed, we were not mistaken; we were later told that this was “part one” and the wedding was “part two” – I think they put equal weight on the two parts. After lots of singing and chanting and dancing and yelling at the bride and groom, we all went upstairs back to the parlor and sat around the couple. The second group (all female) began to perform – this time more yodeling than tambourine-ing – and everyone got up to dance. The night continued in this fashion: switching off between the two groups of performers and lots and lots and LOTS of dancing. By 8:00 we were wiped, and extremely hungry. When we thought we couldn’t go on any longer, servants brought up tea and every type of sugary delicious cookie you can imagine. Man after man came up to each person with a new tray of cookies and eventually we had to refuse (not only was I completely sugar-ed out but I also wanted to save room for dinner – the tagine smelled amazing all the way from the 5th floor!) After a few more rounds of dancing we decided to head home. Although we felt bad we didn’t stay for dinner, it was already almost 10:00 and we had told our families we would not be gone for more than a few hours. We exchanged information with a few of the girls and were told multiple times that we had to come to visit them in Casablanca. As we were walking out, in true Moroccan fashion, a woman came running out with a plate with A WHOLE CHICKEN ON IT and told us to take it for the road. We also got two whole platefuls of cookies. Although we tried to tell them we were full and going home for another dinner, they refused to take back the food. As we sat on our way home, chicken in hand, we just laughed at the day we had just had. Who knew a “little engagement party” would turn into a 8-hour luxurious affair. At least we were dressed appropriately!