Al-Ashiya al-Gnawiya

Hamid, Abd ar-Rzaq, and Annie having some pre-ceremony tea.

One week in, and I think my dissertation research is done.

Yesterday we were invited to an Ashiya Gnawiya, a Gnawa afternoon. Now, I'd been to a Gnawa layla before. In fact, the layla (night) ceremony made up a few chapters of my masters thesis. In the layla, people (mostly women) who are possessed by a mluk (spirit) go into trance during the segment of music dedicated to that particular spirit. Some of the mluk are from Islamic history (Moses, Abraham), while some are sub-Saharan (Aisha, Mimun). The maskun (possessed) are covered with cloths matching the color of the spirit and feed on the jawi (incense) to strengthen the possession.

This ashiya (afternoon) was not supposed to have any of this. But it did.

The event was held for a woman who was having trouble breathing. The belief is that these types of health issues can come from an unhappy mluk, or a new one. In order to appease the spirit, the maskun must hold a ceremony. The ashiya, however, is cheaper than a layla, and shorter. After two or three hours (and no possession) we expected the event to end, but then the woman went into a deep trance, screaming, rolling on the ground. People came from around the room to help her, bring her to the incense, and push her into the next stage. Then the layla portion began as the musicians went into the series of songs that bring on each mluk.

If anyone is interested in the specifics of the theology and traditions, let me know. This is hardly the venue for such a conversation.

The big news, though... unlike in the past, the musicians allowed (even requested) me to record the entire thing. In the past, I've taken pictures and recorded the opening portion, but once the trances begin, it's all off limits for obvious reasons. This time, however, they kept asking me for my recorder and putting it prime position between them. If I had to, I could transcribe this event, get the lyrics, and write a paper. Pardon my excitement. Upon later listening, however, it's shocking just how intense and frightening the entire experience is.

The musicians. Abd ar-Rzaq was my teacher during the last few trips, in red. The man to his right is restringing his hajhuj.

Hajuj lessons

It’s a sad time when you finish a good book. There’s a moment of despair, knowing that it’s done, gone. I know, it’s melodramatic. For anyone who’s interested in Fez, though, I recommend some Paul Bowles’ A Spider’s House (a daring move undertaken by few academics).

This evening was a wonderfully spent bit of time with Annie. We walked around the new city after sitting atop Hejji’s carpet/justice house. We had some pizza at our favorite little spot, and then tried to find the old park. It’s in great shape! The king is really knocking out these public works projects. Hassan II looks great, there’s a pair of large fountains, and the park is a pleasant surprise! We passed on the Fez City Clan, a hip hop group, at Ait Skato, and instead took the rare opportunity to just wander the new city. When I got back to Sidi al-Awad, it was hopping! There were sellers through the entire entrance with music, shoes, pants, shirts, etc. on rugs set out on the sidewalk. A good time to come back, it seems.

I bought a hajuj today! After asking over and over again, I was confident that Abd al-Rzaq did, in fact, have another instrument. And in order to secure my lessons, I paid him 700 DH for the instrument (instead of 1000) and offered 100 DH for each 4 lessons. This gets me 12 lessons, an ambitious goal, over the next few weeks. And today was lesson #2! We worked on the bambra, the first song played after everyone sits down at the layla. My finger hurts.

Tomorrow we’re going down to Sefrou for their Cherry festival. It’ll be our first visit to the smaller town, and the first time back in the adventurous Grand Taxi.

A Night In

(Everything before this is copied from the notebook – forgive the terseness. I’m not good when writing by hand.)

Today had some big moments, but not where they were expected. Early on I went to visit Said, who informed me that Hejji had tried to call yesterday and had arranged a meeting with his Gnawiyya friend. After fixing my phone, we sat with Claudine, who wants to introduce me to Fredric, who is with the Hamadcha Brotherhood. He is a French researcher who performs with the group regularly and has lived in Fez for the last 5 years. She is also a singer and is interested in electronic music (in Paris). My first trip back to that area. In the new city I got to see Annie again!

After pictures and lunch Annie made me talk to Thierry, a photographer at the café with the festival schedule at hand. He agreed to meet me tomorrow for coffee after we talked at some short length on his childhood in Algeria and his life here in Fez since. He returns frequently, but hasn’t found himself ready to try and head back home – a family of his name was recently killed on arrival.

Tonight dinner with the family and Hafid (uncle, brother of Ahmed) broke into song! Stories of the prophets, Allah, and muezzin-esque recitation by Si Ahmed himself! I learned that the family is Tijaniyya and was able to ask many questions on the group’s history and structure. According to Hafid, Tijani was not from Algeria (contrary to some popular beliefs), but from Saudi Arabia. And he scolded Algeria for using the man's legacy for political gains. And get this: their other uncle, the older one who was admonishing Mohammed’s friend yesterday, is the assistant Imam at the Zawia – quite the post, and a retired Arabic teacher. I now understand the significance of last night’s argument.

There’s a Tijaniyya performance with the Sufi Nights this week. I wonder what the family has to say.