Who Knew Circumcisions Were So Much Fun?

Delila's Fessi-style Henna

Kids playing with the ill-fated sheep

Delila and Me at her home before dinner.

Abdl 'Ali and son Hisham riding to the second location of the party.

Atman and his father, Driss.

Delila with Hisham and Atman.

Fatima Zahra and Me in our Kuftans

Partying hard...with one of the house's beautiful doorways in the background.

The proud parents.

Atman passed-out during the party.
I didn't realize what a big ordeal this circumcision party would be. It was just as big if not bigger than a wedding! Two nights before the party, I got my hands done in henna tattoos with Fatima Zahra and her cousin Delila (the mother of Atman whose party it was). The women who do the henna amaze me because they do everything free-hand in these really intricate designs that takes hours! It was really fun...and it turned out very nicely and should stay for at least a couple of weeks since I left it on overnight. The next day, we went back to the house along with the sheep, and two large boxes of oil and sugar for gifts. The family gathered outside the house and visited until Atman came down and we all chanted the traditional Moroccan "'slaa...'slaam..etc". The chant is hard to describe...it is like singing Happy Birthday or something...it is always sung at celebrations...the same thing at weddings, baby-showers, etc. We had mint tea and cookies and visited the family and stayed the night there.
After a very busy day, it was time for the party to start. I didn't see all the waiters and guests arrive because I was waiting in the salon to get my hair done for the occasion. Fatima Zhara and I arrived close to 10pm, which was fine because the party had barely begun. We put on our kuftans; mine was a green-silk number, hers a gold and brown one, and Fatima in all black. The house was extremely hot and the heat was only exaggerated by the 100 odd bodies crammed together in the small space. We ate delicious Moroccan bastella which is like a sweet chicken-almond-onion pie, followed by a beef dish and then a fruit platter for dessert. We all hurried downstairs and gathered out in front of the house around Atman and his father, Driss, who were on a white horse, waiting to depart to a beautiful old ryad down the road where the second half of the party was to be held. Another little boy in Atman's family who was visiting from London decided to get in on the action too, and him and his father Abdl 'Ali were also dressed up and on a white horse. Then the band started to play, and we all started chanting...the women ululating...and we marched in a big procession to the other house.
This house was amazing...three stories with a huge skylight and all the doors and windows were ordained in intricate woodwork and arches...just breath taking. All night we were being served by the hired waiters...cookies, baklavah, tea, coffee, smoothies, fish pastry, and even traditional Moroccan soup called "harira" for breakfast around 5 am. The band played live all night long, and we danced and ate and danced and ate...by the time it was over it was 7am and the sun was up. The two little boys had passed out by then...they had had a big night...crying at times from the confusion of it all. I'll tell you, Moroccan know how to have a good time. We were all exhausted and sweaty and trudged back to Delilas in good spirits...only to all crash on the many couches until the afternoon. I am still recovering...but there is no rest in Morocco in August! Not just the heat...but there is always another party to get ready for. See, in Morocco, everyone has vacation in August, so not only does everyone flock to the vacation spots, but this is the time to throw any kind of party, too. Tonight we are going to a party for a friend of the family's new baby...and we have been helping with the cooking for the past two days. The madness is a little overwhelming, but it is fun to be involved in it all. I'm getting better and better at cooking and cleaning floors...just like a real Moroccan woman! In fact...I shouldn't be dallying on the computer...
until next time...ma'salaama.