While I maybe was more in the mood for a lazy afternoon we went to a babyshower in Meknes. Actually I was supporting it myself, as I believe family happenings are important. My bf told me that they offer a cow when a baby is born, call me bad, but this grabbed my attention.
I kind of regretted my family happening supporting role quickly after arriving. The men had to split up from the women (most parties are mixed, I thought, and this is true, except this one of course). So on the last night of my stay I ended up between 25 women at the top floor with only a smile as my communication tool. Quickly I got warmly introduced to everyone with tea and cookies and warm smiles and I didn't even try to remember all the names. For a change I didn't blame myself for only listening to how I pronounce my name and the way I say "Hi", these names are beautiful but impossible to spell let alone remember.
One girl was clearly the fresh mom, she was surrounded by all the girls doing her hair, make up and henna, I have to say that the princess role suited her well. While I like my spa treatment moments, I was impressed by the patience and care with which the women treated each other. With all this beauty, I felt the urge coming up to talk about politics and world economy, too bad I can't discuss with only a smile. After 3 hours of drinking tea and smiling I started to crave for a cigarette, or actually, just a moment for myself. The 3 hours before I didn't have the guts to walk outside as I had to pass the men and I didn't know if they would appreciate a smoking woman to interrupt their conversations. As my fuck-you ratio was growing, after 3 hours I couldn't care less. So I walked outside. At least, that was the plan. The sister of my bf, came to pick me up and putted me inside between all the pots and the pans to have a smoke between all the girls. She stayed with me till I was finished, trying to make me feel comfortable, so sweet. I felt emotions coming up that you don't want to express on your first family meeting: crocodile tears and an incredible I-cant-get-out madness. How lonely can you feel between 25 lovely women? So I smoked my cigarette inside and I sneaked out for another one. That was better.
Another 4 hours of smiling, felling rebellious and getting henna later I had just finished dinner. It was the best lamb tajine with plumbs, made by the mother of my bf, this is the only food that doesn't make me sick in Morocco. It was already dark and I played a little with a young boy outside, but not for long: my bf was informed by his worried sister of my tricky trip outside of the house and came to get me. I felt a bit more relaxed with him by my side and we went for a walk, I told him the story of the dutch girl in Morocco. He saw my face and asked me to go with the men for a coffee outside town and I was happy as a child. And there I was, sitting at 2 at night at a coffee bar, surrounded by only men, smoking cigarettes, chit chatting in English and feeling completely comfortable.
I am writing this story down because it was my first real clash of the cultures moment. People would start a war. Lovers would try to understand.
I kind of regretted my family happening supporting role quickly after arriving. The men had to split up from the women (most parties are mixed, I thought, and this is true, except this one of course). So on the last night of my stay I ended up between 25 women at the top floor with only a smile as my communication tool. Quickly I got warmly introduced to everyone with tea and cookies and warm smiles and I didn't even try to remember all the names. For a change I didn't blame myself for only listening to how I pronounce my name and the way I say "Hi", these names are beautiful but impossible to spell let alone remember.
One girl was clearly the fresh mom, she was surrounded by all the girls doing her hair, make up and henna, I have to say that the princess role suited her well. While I like my spa treatment moments, I was impressed by the patience and care with which the women treated each other. With all this beauty, I felt the urge coming up to talk about politics and world economy, too bad I can't discuss with only a smile. After 3 hours of drinking tea and smiling I started to crave for a cigarette, or actually, just a moment for myself. The 3 hours before I didn't have the guts to walk outside as I had to pass the men and I didn't know if they would appreciate a smoking woman to interrupt their conversations. As my fuck-you ratio was growing, after 3 hours I couldn't care less. So I walked outside. At least, that was the plan. The sister of my bf, came to pick me up and putted me inside between all the pots and the pans to have a smoke between all the girls. She stayed with me till I was finished, trying to make me feel comfortable, so sweet. I felt emotions coming up that you don't want to express on your first family meeting: crocodile tears and an incredible I-cant-get-out madness. How lonely can you feel between 25 lovely women? So I smoked my cigarette inside and I sneaked out for another one. That was better.
Another 4 hours of smiling, felling rebellious and getting henna later I had just finished dinner. It was the best lamb tajine with plumbs, made by the mother of my bf, this is the only food that doesn't make me sick in Morocco. It was already dark and I played a little with a young boy outside, but not for long: my bf was informed by his worried sister of my tricky trip outside of the house and came to get me. I felt a bit more relaxed with him by my side and we went for a walk, I told him the story of the dutch girl in Morocco. He saw my face and asked me to go with the men for a coffee outside town and I was happy as a child. And there I was, sitting at 2 at night at a coffee bar, surrounded by only men, smoking cigarettes, chit chatting in English and feeling completely comfortable.
I am writing this story down because it was my first real clash of the cultures moment. People would start a war. Lovers would try to understand.
