LYNN’S SPAIN/MOROCCO
JOURNAL
Day 12, Monday, May 20
Ait M’Hamed
Guests
Today was the party in our honor. A number of women came as well as some men. We entertained the women in Corinna’s living area. The men, including Philip, were entertained in the main area of Chifoor’s house, where we had eaten the first night. We had two courses: tajine and couscous. There was a big discussion as to who was gong to divide up the meat from the tajine—I think usually the man of the house does it. The tajine was sopped up with bread. The couscous was more of a challenge. You had to make balls with the couscous and wrap in some of the veggies. It was even harder when buttermilk was added—you kind of made a spoon of your hand. I managed without a spoon.
Eating Tajine
The hit of the meal though was eating the goat testicle that was the main meat of the couscous—it was kind of a raunchy conversation. An older woman next to me held the testicle over her mouth and pretended to be dropping it into her mouth. Finally, Fatima (a friend, not the daughter) broke it in several pieces and gave me a piece to eat—the consistency was like a soft sausage. I think I scored brownie points for not turning it down.
In
Wedding Dress
Corinna took out her recorder, and a few women tooted away, some more successfully than others. Some women came with their bride outfits—long dress, belt with spangles, bright floral scarf, another spangled thing to put on your head. They dressed me up in bride clothes and took pictures. The women dispersed pretty quickly after we ate—I had thought they would stay longer. I’m sure they had things to do at home.
Philip was alone with the men, but David, a relatively new Peace Corps volunteer from a near-by village, came late to the party and was able to keep Philip company. He had been told that he didn’t have to join the men if he felt more comfortable with us. Their lunch was more sedate.
A lot of preparation and work had gone into the party. I saw Corinna hand over 300 DH to Chifoor I think to buy food. Women had come over early in the morning to help cook: tajine and the couscous. They were sitting on the floor of Khadooj’s kitchen. Each family nearby had been told to send only one person as a representative.
Preparing Henna
Preparing Couscous
After the party, Corinna and I took a bath in the hammam of the family, newly built (many of the women had bathed earlier). It was like a Japanese bath except instead of dunking yourself in a hot tub of water, you sit in a steam room heated by boiling water from the fire beneath. Earlier in the day, Chifoor had split some firewood. The actual steam room was a beehive-shaped structure, with the fire below heating up a big vat of water. There is a chamber at the top, just high enough to sit down in on a wooden bench. We washed up in the room right next door. We scrubbed down first with a tool designed to rub away our dead skin—hers was not as rough as what some people apparently use. Then we went into the steam room until the sweat rolled down us. Back in the wash-down area for a thorough scrub with soap, followed by a shampoo. It was surprisingly cool in the wash-down room, perhaps because of the difference in heat compared to the steam room—I actually felt cool and wanted to go back into the steamroom, not Corinna! We had been told to bring a sweater and head scarf so as not to get chilled on the walk back to the house.
The Family Hamman
Fatima and a younger girl were the only ones left from the party. They participated in the henna party. Fatima did plain henna pretty much on Corinna’s hands. Zahara (older sister) did designs on mine—applied with a stick so the design was not that delicate as I had hoped. Before we had eaten, Fatima had ground the dried henna leaves into a fine powder with a special pounding stick that fit into a wooden vase-like vessel. The stick was crowned with a large knob—both the stick and vessel were made of wood. After the designs were applied, we dried our hands over the brasiers left over from cooking to hasten the process. The result: orange hands and fingernails! I didn’t really want Zahara to do my fingernails, but now I’m glad she did because that is all that is left of my experience—the orange designs on my palms are long gone.
Applying Henna
Henna
Hands
After the henna party, Corinna fried up the rest of her lentil burgers to share with the family for supper. Supper was taken back in the family’s house: lentil burgers, boiled egg in oil, butter, bread, mint tea, which I love so sweet and minty. Poor Chifoor had caught a cold, maybe from Philip, and said he was dying! We said our goodbyes to the family after dinner—it would be too early in the morning the next day.
Chifoor is also a beekeeper—as well as he earns money from Corinna’s rent and from his food stall in the Saturday market. Hence, they are relatively prosperous. One example of this prosperity is their black and white TV, which I had not seen the first night—it is run off a car battery as they have no electricity. They, like Corinna, use butane stoves and lamps. His hive is near Corinna’s end of the house—she is very afraid of bees and has been bitten several times (and swells up like a balloon). The honey we had from last year’s crop at the first night’s dinner was exquisite: so rich, complex, dark, flavorful. I would give a lot to get some from Corinna when she comes home at the end of the summer before she starts her last six months.
David slept in our room—we all went to bed late—and he had to get up early. Corinna spent some time rereading all her own letters.