The wedding party

It all started with an unexpected second visit to Casablanca.

I'd made a friend there, Isham, who, due to car complications, wasn't able to meet me in Marrakech. So I decided to make a quick stop in Casa on my way from the hippie beach town of Essaouira to the northern city of Fes.

My bus was a rickety thing that made so many stops - many in the middle of nowhere, dropping men off in the fields - that it took seven hours to get, well, not very far. I quickly regretted not buying food during our only pit stop, about two hours into the journey. By the time I got to Casa it was almost 8 and all I really wanted was food.

Isham picked me up at the bus station and I was feeling less than glamourous. It had been a long ride. Before I had a chance to ask him if he'd eaten, he said we were due at his friend's house in an hour - for a wedding!

I immediately panicked about my wardrobe - I didn't think my black pants, pink V-neck T-shirt and zero makeup would cut it. Isham assured me that I would be fine, but luckily I had at least a little time to dig through my bag for something more suitable. I settled on a long-sleeved Moroccan shirt I had bought ygr week before and my sarong, floor-length. I did my makeup and put on my black flats and although I felt a little wrinkly (I could have used an iron!), I was ready to go. I gave myself bonus points for wearing Moroccan earrings, bangles (I got them in India but they are very much the in thing here, too), and having had my hands henna'd the day before.

The arrival: We got off the elevator and were immediately faced with the deejay, who was pumping Moroccan tunes. Then the brother of the groom, who led us in. Then the mother of the groom, who hugged and kissed us both and practically shoved me into the living room, where the wedding party was sitting around the edges, the bride and groom against the far wall. It was a small party, and the room was well-lit, and I sat down in one of the two available seats as quickly as possible because I was drawing more than a few stares. It couldn't have been my outfit, though - I wasn't wearing a beautiful dress like most of the women, but I think I fit in quite well! And after a few songs, to which I clapped along with everybody, the staring stopped.

I met the groom, Isham's friend, and squeezed out a "felicitations!" He, like the other men, was wearing a nice suit. His bride, however, was decked out! A beautiful Moroccan dress, with a belt made entirely of silver, and a huge necklace, earrings and a crown! Her hands and feet were, of course, tattood with henna.

At about 10 PM, all of the men left the room (they did this periodically) and came back with what looked like a marriage certificate, which was presented to the couple. The bride then left the room and returned 20 minutes or so later with a new dress on. Beautiful blue. Then a platter was brought out and presented to the couple, while many of the women sang an indescribable song of joy, which was repeated throughout the night. On the platter: sweets - dates filled with nuts - and small bowls of milk (Isham said they drink milk as a prayer for fertility, or more literally that the woman will always be able to create milk). Also on the platter were the wedding rings, along with a stunning diamond necklace and bracelet.

The now-married couple left the room and everyone danced, especially a few characters who couldn't hey off the dancefloor. One woman, I'm guessing a crazy aunt, shook her hips a lot, swung her hair around (only about half of the women had their heads covered) and stomped to the beat. Two men, who were very funny, spent a lot of time wiggling their bums and bellies. Ha. It looked a lot cooler than it sounds!

At around 11:30, it was time for dinner (mind you, I hadn't eaten since breakfast!), and the men once again left the room. I sat with a bunch of women around a nice table, waiting for the eating to begin. The first course was a large seafood and rice pie, set out in the middle for all to grab from. Delicious! Then came the rack of lamb. Many dishes in Morocco are eaten with your hands. It was sort of strange to see women in beautiful dresses reaching out and pulling meat off the bones with their hands, though! The last dish was full of fruit. Yummy. And we drank mint tea - good, but sugary.

When the men returned, there was more dancing, and when the couple returned, the bride had on another new dress - this one gold. The wedding cake, three layers, was brought out and everyone sang "Happy Birthday." Yeah, you read it right. "Happy Birthday." Isham said it's to celebrate the birth of the two of them as one. Makes sense.

Shortly after the cake, around 1 AM, we left, and all ll I could think was, "What an unexpectedly fun night!"
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