The 'Aissawis of Meknès

Today we're heading to Meknès, a nearby city, for the moussem. Yesterday was the Prophet's birthday, a holiday that sets off a long series of celebrations across the country. The first, and in some ways, most well known, is only a few hours away by taxi. It began yesterday and will continue through tomorrow, so we'll be just in time to catch the height of the celebrations.

Meknès is home to the major shrine to Sheikh al-Kamil, the "patron saint" (if you will) of the 'Aissawa brotherhood. The 'Aissawis are one particular sect of Sufis who I have had the pleasure of working with in the past. Their music is incredibly popular, and the presence of a large group (15 or so  members) is a staple for weddings, naming day celebrations, and other life celebrations. They also perform layla rituals, not completely unlike the Gnawa (the sub-Saharan group that made of the bulk of my past research). They foster relationships with some of the same historical figures, saints, and spirits. Further, the ceremonies heal inflicted individuals (spiritually and physically) and provide baraka (blessing) to the families that are present.

During this moussem, I have been told a bit about what to expect, but of course, when you're dealing with religious topics, foreign languages, and multiple perspectives, you really can't get a grasp on what's coming. It will all be a bit of a surprise.

'Aissawa groups, led by flagbearers, will process from the central square to the shrine of Sheikh al-Kamil. They will be performing segments of the ritual, songs that are known to the crowds, and potentially a few things that invite adepts to fna, literally extinction (of the self into Allah). The groups are large, percussion heavy (mostly hand drums of different sorts), and include a few wind players. They usually have two or three 6-foot long trumpets that play complex and coordinated rhythms between them, creating an unexpectedly tight stereo experience. The ghaita, a relative of the oboe, plays long, winding, ornamented melodies alongside the chanting. Each group, I am told, will have a cow. Upon entering the shrine, there is a sacrifice, and celebration ensues once again.

We were warned that if we wear red or black, people who are trancing might try to eat our clothes. Not sure yet what to make of it, but I'm wearing brown.

After this, the mawsim (moussems) continue in two other cities, taking me on a trek across Morocco as I jump full steam into research. Classes are pretty much finished, and now the real work clicks into gear.

Peace

Happy Valentine's Day!

We got lost this morning. Walking around with no idea which way was which. It only happened for a few minutes on a few roads, but man, it was embarrassing. (We did, however, keep from having to retrace our steps, so no one knew but us... I trust you'll keep our secret.)

The walk that so threw us was from our taxi to the Fez Café, a somewhat new restaurant in the Batha area of the old city. The place is physically huge - another reason for our inability to grasp the possibility that we couldn't find it - thanks to a giant garden that consumes most of the space within the walls. It's open air, very French, and they feed you food fresh out of the dirt. Today was our Valentine's Day, and the Fez Café's chalkboard full of today's options (which, unlike much Moroccan cooking, did not come out of a pressure cooker) was the proper choice. I even enjoyed my simple cup of hot water with orange flower water.

In other Valentine's Day weekend news (we like to spread our celebrations out as much as we possibly can) we got tickets to go to Paris in March! While it seems gluttonous to head to Paris less than a month before a trip to London, we have to. I promise. It's all about the visa (we have to leave and return every 90 days, and the trip to London is 95 days from our Italian excursion). Any recommendations?

Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part Two

Remember that time we went to Italy?

Our visit to Rome, in an unexpected way, helped us to put Fez into perspective. Ever corner you turn seems to hide some millennia-old treasure, just as it does here. And the fact that most Roman ruins predate their Fessi counterparts makes it all the more impressive. Being able to wander around and see the inner constructions of these early wonders of human invention put our own walled city into its proper relief, shaking us from our (often imprecise) assumptions. Walking these streets in the days leading up to and immediately following Christmas proved incredibly striking...

I'm only choosing a handful of photos here to attempt and represent the indescribable experience of touring Rome. Our time there, for the first time in a while, was spent as true "tourists" - speaking Italian straight from the phrase book, bumping into people because we were feverishly reading our Rick Steves' guidebook, all those things that people do with the express concern of pissing us off here in Fez. We saw the sights, got ourselves lost, missed busses, and stumbled into some of the most outstanding (and understated) restaurants imaginable. In so many ways, the time we passed in Rome was just perfect.

Then we went to Florence and Tuscany...

Check it out - we're in Agustus' house. Yeah, that guy who called everyone to head back home for a census. You may know the story.

The view of the Roman Forum and the Colosseum from the hill. This was what the Emperor saw when he peeked out the window. PS: Got to stand on a rock in the ground where the throne was, where history was decided.

This is what remains of Constantine's Basilica. (The Christians snagged their method of construction from these older justice halls, which then lent their name to the large churches.) If you look really, really closely, you may be able to see Annie standing tall under the arches.

Baby it's cold outside.

Behind the Pantheon.

We snuck into the Colleseum right before we had to leave for Florence. Quaint.

"Do you think that I'm allowed to touch it?"

Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part One (More Photos)

Taking a much needed break with one of Italy's real treats, literal hot chocolate (what seemed to be melted chocolate in a cup)!

Even Santa went to the "Blessing of the World" after a long night of work.

It's a good thing we ended up in the front row. I can only imagine the sea of umbrellas behind us (and the need for some safety goggles if walking around back there).

In case you missed it, Papa says "Merry Christmas" (in Italian, English, Japanese, Spanish, Esperanto...)

Merry Christmas from the Trevi Fountain! (And yes, we threw our three coins in the fountain, so we should be headed back soon.)

Merry Christmas (or) Roman Holiday Part One

St. Peter's and a Christmas tree donated by Indonesia... Unexpected, eh?

We made it, and we made it back. Upon looking through the photos from our Christmas/Anniversary/Birthday/New Years excursion to Italy, I am stunned by the sheer mass of things we saw and did (and forgot about!).

This was one of my favorite statues that we saw in the vast Vatican Museum. The priest (center) is being held back by the gods because he is trying to warn the Trojans that letting the horse in is a bad idea... and therefore divert the fate set for the city. This is his punishment and his pain.

The internet here in Fez has been spotty, which I'm sure has absolutely nothing to do with the noisy construction that we returned home to. Workers are tearing out the road and replacing gigantic pipes in the street (2-foot-wide alley) behind us. At the same time, I've been seeing folks in blue lab jackets on ladders playing with power lines and, presumably, phone cables. Thus, these posts will be short. Consider it an effort to get something up before we have a communications blackout once again. (Today we had to climb over a pile of mud and rocks to get out of our house! But by the time we got back, the world was flat once again.) (PS: I don't think that was a pun about Galileo, whose museum we visited, but perhaps I should pretend that it was.)

After so many rooms and so many works of art, the world gets a bit dizzy.

Returning to Rome... I'm struck by the number of photos and stories we have of the Vatican. We made it back there more times than I had expected. My parents had told me that they went every day, and I was surprised. But we had more than enough reason to make the subway pilgrimage over and over again. This is partly due, of course, to our impeccable timing. And our absurdly inefficient efforts to see the vastness of what it has to offer. And Annie's last desire to get a rosary bracelet. I'm going to include mostly pictures here, simply implying the stories behind them. If you want to hear more, 'cause you're that kind of listener, you'll have to ask. Otherwise I'll get bogged down in the not-so-interesting details... (Like our Vatican Museum tour guide, who spent a half-hour in front of a TV screen talking about what we would see instead of showing us what was there!) So, here are some photos, and I'll try and post soon in an effort to embellish the rest of Rome.

Merry very belated Christmas to you all!

Michelangelo's Pieta at St. Peter's.

St. Peter at St. Peter's. After the museum, we took a short cut into the church. It was late, dark, and an impressive mix of massive and intimate. This was our first visit, we returned two or three more times after (and never had to wait in the long line!).

Happy New Year!

So I decided that this deserves a blog post.

Annie and I are sitting in our living room at 8:42pm waiting to find out if we have classes tomorrow. If so, we have to get up to get to school by 8am, and I probably won't have my homework finished. But if we don't, we sit and relax for a day.

See, tomorrow is "ras al-'am" or "ras as-sina." The head of the year, or the Islamic New Year. We should be singing "Auld Lang Syne," but instead I need to find out if I have to write a dialogue in Moroccan Arabic about going to the doctor for my early morning classes. I feel so not-festive. Earlier I told someone that we might come visit tomorrow since it's the New Year and we may not have classes. He thought I was crazy, and told me "It's only December 6th." "Hijra!" "Oh yeah, that's right." With a potential day off of work, you'd think people would be more interested!

So the change of the Islamic month depends on the moon (it's a lunar calendar). You can't tell when a new month begins until you have a sighting late at night. If you have a TV, you find out quickly, but if you don't (like us), you have to go around asking people whether or not it's the new year.

Our Advent wreath, burning bright

Keeping with the holiday season, we started an Advent wreath. The only candles that we could find on short notice, however, were from near the Moulay Idriss mosque. Shopkeepers line the neighboring streets selling these candles (and much bigger ones), all varieties of incense, prayer beads, rosewater, scented oils, and items from the Hajj (pilgrimage to Mecca). All of these things are for specific uses during ceremonies and rituals, so we figured that we were alright using them for a wreath. Eh? You make do. Purple candles aren't very popular for some reason or another.

Turkey dinner!

Thanksgiving was a treat as well! Thursday afternoon we found ourselves turkey paninis. With great french fries. Yes, nothing says American Thanksgiving like a turkey panini and french fries. The next evening, though, we were invited to a Thanksgiving party that included a roasted turkey (brought live from Marrakech) and PB&J sandwiches.

PS: Just got a call from a friend, it's New Years! Happy New Year everyone!

Eid Mubarak Said!

He has no idea... Or maybe he does.

Today was day one of Eid al-Kabir, the celebration of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son. Each family finds themselves a nice "kabsh" (ram) for the household, and this week has been full of people asking us if we have yet to get our own. "Mazal," not yet... I never knew that rams were so loud, and I never got so much enjoyment from watching people attempt to convince these large animals to walk down the street. But all that is over now - this morning the unbelievable ram population here in Fez diminished rapidly.

The man with the plan, and the deed is done.

Preparations throughout the city were extensive. Men selling grains (for the short-term pets) and offering to sharpen knives (also for the short-term pets) filled the streets. There is an entire mini-economy around the Eid, especially considering that the animals go for a small fortune, $200-400 each! No, we did not get our own, although they are pretty cute.

Annie with Hiba, the youngest daughter.

A family invited us to their celebrations, they have been kind and welcoming to us for a few years now, smothering us with their generosity. We woke them up this morning (whoops), after the hour-long call to prayer. We didn't want to miss the sacrifice, of course! Following a quick breakfast, the man arrived who was to do the deed... The mini-economy also includes a number of wandering butchers, going from house to house and taking care of business. This fella, however, was a friend of the family, much more trustworthy than a rushing butcher! You can't mess around with your ram.

Cleaning up the blood, in heels.

The entire family went upstairs, and of course I brought the camera. I'll spare the gory details (but not all of the gory pictures), and just say that it took a while to get everything taken care of, and this family, like the rest of Fez, is going to be eating meat for a long time. The highlight: the mother decided that it'd be funny to scare Annie with the ram's head.

A picture is worth a thousand words. Mama Boujma goes after Annie...

Eid Day 1 involves sacrificing the animal (you only get two cuts, so you better make them good), skinning it, and getting all the organs out. The skin, now inside out, gets salted and saved for later, when it's given to the leather workers and made into decoration, a prayer rug, or sold. Kids  in the street spend the day roasting heads for the neighbors, which become breakfast for the next morning. (If we visit anyone tomorrow, we're going to be sure to be late...) The liver and heart turn into brochettes (kabobs), which, for our lunch today, were cooked over an open fire in the living room. Unexpected. Then, nap time. At this point, we found our way out and came home. I believe that the stomach turns into dinner (slow cooked), and the meat becomes a consistent meal for days to come.

One down (on the right, hanging), one to go.

The man of the house.

My secret hope for this whole process? I want to get a pair of ribs, so I can play the "bones" in the bluegrass band when I get back to the states. Tomorrow? We're heading back - Annie's getting henna (I'll post pictures) and we're going to partake in the more "meaty" meal, now that the liver's gone.

Eid mabarak said!

Liver brochettes for lunch. They were quite good! And followed with liver-stuffed heart.