Morocco: Dessert Life

Morocco is so diverse in its different regions. From the mountains to the cities to the sea towns to the dessert. Of all the places we visit I have several favourites, but the one that tops the list for me is the dessert. This might seem odd for someone who struggles with heat and the summer months, has pale skin and burns easily, but there was something magnetic about the culture there. I am reminded again of my love for cultural anthropology. Like a lot of people groups that have been pushed to extreme parts of the world, whether nomadic or hunter/gatherers, it is often here you see tradition remain strong and life remain relatively simple. The outside world, although involved (in this case in tourism) doesn't seem as strong or as important as the culture or the family units. There is something about the dessert way of life that I like. I have always wanted to live with a tribe in a rain forest in some remote part of the world and this had a remarkably similar feeling and simplicity. I literally run into Ali, who runs the place we are staying at, one afternoon dressed in his traditional Berber clothes overseeing elements of his brother's wedding. I had expressed great excitement at being around during a local wedding despite only being there for the first of the 3 day long event. On the first day, the bride's family and the groom's family have separate celebrations. The women of Ali's family are all gathered in the house next door while the men are gathered in the building we are in, lounging outside in the shade. Ali immediately says, "come with me" and I follow him over to his family house from which I have heard women's shrill throat calls, drumming, and singing all day. He introduces me to his mother, a much older Moroccan woman covered from head to toe in black with just her face uncovered. I meet his older sisters. Then he takes me to the main room where all the older women are sitting on the floor on carpets drumming and singing. His youngest sister is there who must have been about 16. She speaks French. I am introduced and she takes my hand and leads me away. "This is for women only," Ali tells me as he recedes away and heads off towards the men. I am given mint tea by one older woman and pulled into a side room by Ali's sister. There, all the young girls are lounging around on the floor decorating each other's hands and feet with henna. I sit down with them and speak some broken French while a few speak a bit of broken English. They speak to each other in Arabic. They are typical teenagers and early 20's, despite the head scarves, henna, and dessert home. Each have their own style and personality and I can see the younger ones admiring the older girls. The henna is amazing to watch being applied. Here is a culture where it is as common as applying nail polish on all your girlfriends. The young pre-puberty boys are obviously allowed at the women's event and the older of these (age 10-13ish) are the biggest jokers. They dress up in their turbans and dark sunglasses, covering their faces, grabbing some drums and coming into the room of female cousins to begin their comedy singing routine. I don't know what they are singing, but I am aware they are going around the room singing about different people. The girls are roaring with laughter. It gives me a sense of humanity to see that young boys are similar everywhere. Earlier I had sat on the roof for short times in the middle of the heat of the day and watched as people traversed on foot from the town of Merzouga to houses scattered near the edge of the dessert. Their robes are flowing and there is an elegance and mystery to them that I find strong and beautiful. Many people walk towards the wedding festivities. As the evening becomes cooler the women drag all their carpets outside to the shade at the side of the house and continue their visiting and singing. I feel extremely lucky to have been invited into a part of a Moroccan wedding. It is the one place that I am very sad to leave, where I feel like I had been a true visitor of the culture. Yes, the camels are fun for the tourists, but the dessert is real and these people have lived and survived here for centuries. 60% of Moroccans are Berber nomads.

I will be back, I sense.

We drive by the wedding tent on our way out. It has been erected the evening before by all the men and boys of Ali's family. When we pass the opening we see all the women lounging around on carpets inside. Until next time...