Ramadan Moon Rising

The day after I returned from the desert, Hassan invited me to join him and his family at their house in the evening, to celebrate the beginning of Ramadan.  I hadn’t really intended to still be in Morocco when Ramadan began, as I have been hearing horror stories about everything shutting down during the day and it not being very welcoming for tourists during this time.  Ramadan is a big festival for Muslims during which they fast from sunup to sundown.  However, at sundown, they break their fast with a big meal en famille.  Somehow, the beginning of Ramadan is tied in with the moon, and the day it starts changes each year.  This year, it begins on the night of the 29th of June.

I’ve been working on booking a ticket to leave Morocco, but clearly I won’t be leaving within the next day or two, especially since I still want to go to Marrakech.  So I thought it would be quite interesting to see this side of both Morocco and Islam.  I was especially interested because I realized that most of the time I’ve been here in Morocco, I’ve interacted with men.  One time in Fes, Maia and I had tried to go to the home of some women to have a meal with them, but there were some issues with permissions, something about us being on a tour and them not being allowed to invite us to their house since it wasn’t part of the tour….  We had really wanted to go, since we had heard about some sort of female co-op and wanted to see how that worked, but – no such luck.  Anyway, I thought it would be great to get to spend a little time with some women in their home environment.  I was looking forward to meeting Hassan’s wife and kids.

He came in the afternoon to pick me up and took me in his SUV to his home after driving around the town for a mini-tour.   Since sunset hadn’t happened yet, the entire town was empty, almost like a ghost town.  It was crazy!

Hassan had brought his young son, Abdul with him.  He was probably about 3 years old.  He also had a daughter of about 8.  Hassan’s wife Maryem had spent the day cooking, along with her sister-in-law.  His mother was also there for the meal.  His brother- and sister-in-law had two daughters somewhere between the ages of his two kids.

The house was built around a large courtyard which had several camels and many goats in it.  I guess they use the camels for the desert expeditions.  Since one of the world cup matches was going on, Hassan kind of tuned into that once we got to the house, so I was left to befriend the women on my own (or watch the game, and I quickly lost patience with that and thought I maybe could help prepare the meal).  Unfortunately, they don’t speak any English, and I don’t speak any Arabic.  They speak a tiny bit of French, but that doesn’t really help me.  I used my phone for Google Translate a little bit, but my battery died after only a few things were said.  We communicated with a bunch of hand gestures and some general symbols.   The ladies were very excited that I was an Indian.  Indian music and movies are very popular in Morocco.  They wanted me to return the next night, and to wear my sari.  They were really hoping that I would teach them how to tie a sari, as well.  Moroccan women wear clothing that is very similar to a sari in that it is a long piece of material which they wrap around over their other clothing, and use to cover their heads.

I wasn’t sure if I would be there or not the next day, but I said I would try.  Since I’ve been planning to go to Marrakech soon, and didn’t want to stay too much longer in M’Hamid, I had only booked through until the next day at the resort.  I had been working on booking a ticket to leave Morocco earlier that day.  On the way back to the resort, Hassan told me that he and his wife and kids would be going to Marrakech by car the day after tomorrow and that I could catch a ride with them, if I liked.  That actually sounded great (especially considering the disaster of a time I’d had trying to get to M’Hamid in the first place).  So I agreed to stay another day and planned to go to their house one more evening for “break fast.”  Plus, I was looking forward to spending more time with Maryem and her sister-in-law.  Towards the end of the evening, I had also met Hassan’s sister and her daughter as well.  Her son was Mohammed, who had been my driver out into the desert.  They lived in the house across the compound from Hassan.  Hassan’s niece and I were even able to communicate a little bit, as she spoke a small amount of English.

The next day was as hot as the day before had been.  The summer has definitely arrived in the desert! It was 45 degrees, easy, during the day.  It certainly made it easy to do not much during the day, as most people do during Ramadan.

Near sunset, Hassan came again to collect me.  This time, I had donned my sari.  The ladies were all pretty happy to see it.  That evening, I was able to spend more time talking to Maryem (and had more battery on my phone, too!)  Also, I spoke for a while with Hassan’s niece, and went to her home for a bit while she was cooking for the night meal.  During Ramadan, people wake up before dawn and eat as well, before returning to bed and resting during the day.

The food at the Ramadan meals was so good!  We had hariria the first night, which was probably the best I’d had since I’ve come to Morocco.  Hassan’s sister-in-law made it.  It’s the traditional soup of Ramadan, and is quite filling and delicious.  Also, they’d made these delicious buttery crepe-type things which I loved.  The second night we had a porridge for the soup dish which reminded of cream-of-wheat.  I love that too, so I was pretty happy.  Always present at the meals are fresh dates as they are in season and also a traditional Ramadan food.

I enjoyed my time with the family.  It was good to get to speak to some women in their homes where they were freer and able to talk and laugh a little.  I also got to observe several times the high art of making tea.  The ladies would make it over a coal fire and used a hand pump fan to stoke the fire.   Quite a fascinating ritual.  After the meal and ritual tea, however, I begged a ride back to the hotel, as I had to leave the next day.

Although Hassan had said he and his family were going to Marrakech the next day, it had become apparent that they were not going to be leaving then.  In fact, I wasn’t sure when they would leave.  They’d said some things about me staying longer, or staying with them, and I wasn’t super-comfortable staying there any longer.  Plus, I’ve booked a flight to the Canary Islands on July 6^th and I want to have time to see Marrakech before leaving the country.  I’m running out of time to do that.  Also, if I leave on my own, I can stop in Ouarzazate on my way to Marrakech and see Ait Ben Haddou, like I had hoped.

So Omar helped me arrange a taxi to take me to the next big town where I can get a bus to Ouarzazate.  Because it’s Ramadan, it wasn’t the easiest feat, but he found someone who was willing to drive during the day and I bid a sad goodbye to Hamada du Draa and the Sahara and went back towards Zagora.  Of course, as luck would have it, when I arrived there, I found the bus stop closed until the evening, because of Ramadan.

I had the taxi driver leave me there with my stuff, nonetheless, knowing there would be a bus in the direction I was heading after the bus station opened.  So I settled down to wait.  As I sat, a nice young lady waiting nearby shared her break fast with me as Ramadan came to an end.  We sat in companionable silence, listening to the call to prayers finish and eating together.

Then, a young, rather familiar-looking guy passed by.  He stopped and asked me if I had been staying in M’Hamid.  It turned out that he had been one of the local guys from town who had come to use the swimming pool during the time I was at Hamada du Draa.  His name was Larbi and he was heading back to Marrakech where he worked after having visited his family.  We sat by each other on the bus and it was nice to have someone to talk to.  His English was great; he said he worked in Marrakech for a tour company.  We exchanged numbers and may meet up when I go there.  It’s always nice to have a friendly face in a new town.

In the meantime, I got off the bus in Ouarzazate, where I hope to have the chance to see some of the town and take a side trip to see Ait Ben Haddou, the UNESCO city before going on to Marrakech to finish up my time in Morocco.