Moroccan Marriage (part 2)

Quote for the day: "Driss, eat that chicken pancreas, heart and liver!"
--Abdelhak


Last night was Part II of the recent marriage here in Ksr El Barrani, and it was even stranger than Part I.

If you remember, in Part I, there was a DJ and a huge party with men and women dancing. The bride and groom were exhibited like extremely serious zoo specimens on a large two-person throne of gold and silver. Later in the ceremony, the were lifted on the shoulders of four men, who paraded the bride in groom around in circles.

Part II took place in a different part of town (which, given the size of the town, could not have been more than a 35 second walk from Part I's setting). Rather than using the house as the place for this part of the marriage, the street was the chosen milieu. The dirt roads were covered once again in carpets and mats, lights were strung, and sheets were hung to close off the space.

When we arrived, the band had not yet begun to play, but a large crowd had already gathered. People arrived constantly and began to fill the small street as the band started warming up. As usual, the crowds of sober people were interspersed with young men stinking of liquour and laughing too heartily.

As the band began to play, the streets filled up and the people started dancing. The lute player and the drummers all sang and played, and the violin wailed loudly. The few women present sat off to the side on a carpet as the crowd of young men danced feverishly.

It is a funny thing to watch a group of Moroccan men dance. Even when women are present, they seem to dance separately, and the few couples one sees dancing are usually married and dancing in an extremely modest manner. And so all the bumping and grinding and hip swirling that one generally sees between couples is exhibited between men. If I walked into this scene in New York, it would be obvious that I was in a gay bar. Here, this is completely normal and quite common.

Now, the entire point of the second night of the marriage is to celebrate the groom. The first night, as I mentioned yesterday, is the night in which the woman is decorated with Henna, and this serves as one of the most important occurences of the evening. The most important part of the second evening is the arrival of the groom.

Traditionally, the second night occurs as follows: The band plays and the men dance. At some point in the evening, the groom arrives on horseback, accompanied by his friends and relatives that (once again, like the first night) mime whipping him with scarves and cloth. I have no idea why people do this.

Unfortunately, there was apparently a problem getting a horse (this was the explanation I was given, although I can't really see how that would be a problem in this area), so the man last night arrived in a car. With exhaust pouring from the tailpipe, the car pulled slowly into the street and the people lightly whipped the windows and the trunk.

What was not changed in the ceremony was the traditional garb of the man, which is really something to see. Unfortunately, nobody has been able to give me a good explanation for his outfit, so I will have to research this when I have the time and the facilities to do so. The man is dressed in a dark robelike garment which is tied at the waist with a rope from which dangles a typical Arab knife. His head (this is, for me, the strangest part) is wrapped completely in gauze, opened only slightly at eye level to allow him to see. Rather than look dignified, the man looks like a hospital patient.

Once the car has dropped off the groom, he is led to some cushions, where he sits down with his friends and family. And then, while all others dance for hours and drink tea and laugh and clap to the rythym of the music, the groom sits. And sits. And sits. He does not appear to talk to anyone or dance or eat or drink (the last two would be impossible in fact). He does not go to the bathroom or stretch his legs. And think--He arrived around one am or so and I left at 4:15. He did not move in all that time.

And so passed the night again, with dancing and singing and clapping until late in the night, when we finally picked ourselves up and stumbled home, exhausted. Tonight is Part III of the marriage, which I believe involves the transfer of the wife to the home of her husband's family. After this takes place, the newly united couple retire to a bedroom to consummate their marriage. I therefore do not think that I will be much involved in tonight's festivities...

But, you never know...

More to come soon. Tomorrow I leave for El Jadida.