Just as I had guessed: Aissawa Party at Boujloud

Not surprisingly, the Assawis put on a show.

Assawi Preview

Some info on tonight's Aissawa gig at Boujloud. (Unlike the other posts, the photo on the page is not mine and will hopefully be updated soon.)

Trek to Meknès

Our grand taxi, and the kind man who supplied our tissue needs.

You may remember my summary of expectations, some things I jotted quickly before we went off to Meknès for the moussem. Well, we made the trip and went on our way, but (of course) I forgot to charge my battery beforehand. It's rare for me to be wandering around with the nice one, so I went a bit photo-crazy and ran it out before the actual moussem started. I'll give you what I got.

As for the celebration, we got to Meknès' central square, the Hdima, to find people milling around as if it were any old normal day. Disappointment set in. Then, in the crowd, we saw some flags rise above! Knowing Morocco, we assumed that things would take a few hours to get going, so we took our time and visited a café, strolled through the food market, and Annie even got herself a towel/hat for coming home from the public bath.

Then the crowd got itself going. For about 45 minutes we watched some kids and old men team up to try and lift a giant rug with a 10-foot business card pasted to the front (think of the signs that you sometimes see leading a parade, announcing just which fire department you're watching walk by). The wood-braced carpet followed the six flags and a fella carrying a two-foot wide incense burner. Then you had the 'Assawis who formed a circle and performed their "hadra" ceremony (lots of jumping and swinging, looked pretty fun), and 6 ghaita players sitting atop horses. The ghaita is a double reed, much like an oboe, but far, far, far louder, made for playing in large outdoor spaces such as this. The players maintained winding melodies that cut through the noise of the crowds and reached us as we attempted to snake toward and away from the activity. We retreated to a café sitting along one of the city walls so we could watch from a better viewpoint as the group slowly progressed under us and around a busy corner. Shops and salesmen pulled in their goods, waited for the spectacle to pass, and reset themselves as before as a more typical stroll overcame the streets.

We saw a good friend of mine leading the group, and I need to get a hold of him now that things are settling back down. I have questions, he has answers. PS: no one tried to eat our clothes (we were worried, since a few from our group wore black!).

It feels good to get out of the city every once in a while.

Annie and Carol enjoying the ride out.

The best part of this moderately ridiculous museum was the sunshine.

This was the last photo I took before the battery died. But isn't it a beautiful coffee?

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.

The big question from the family

Today I finally got the question from Si Ahmed: Why do you ask about music, about Sufism, etc, but not about Islam? He shared his need to fill the duty that is opening the way for my path into the Muslim life. (I definitely heard the word “shabek,” window, in there somewhere.)

Annie was off from school, so we finally got to spend an entire day together. It was wonderful. After a fantastic lunch here, with the family (lamb, but in some sugary grease?), we went to meet Claudine. But, sadly, it turned into a bit of a goose chase to find her house. Since she didn’t feel like leaving to meet us, it will have to wait.

The concert tonight was impressive. Morocco is doing an outstanding job, adding small details since two years ago. The entrance to Bab Makina, an old armory, was adorned with a series of stalls, each housing representatives from companies: TV5, Century 21, local spas, etc. The performance itself was a collaboration between the Al-Kindi Ensemble and a Byzantine chorus.

Fez has been good to me. The people each time I visit continue to surprise me with their unnecessary generosity, Hassan and, now, Rachel’s family, Si Ahmed in Sa’ada, and now Si Ahmed and his son here in the old city. I met Annie here, we fell for each other on these streets. Well, maybe that was in Chefchaouen or Essouira, but the vast majority of our time together happened in Fez. And now we return. Maybe again next year, and for a full year after that… This place is a large part of my life. Why is that? What made me take Arabic? I wanted to kill time and it quickly (not losing any of that killed time) shifted me into a different place completely. I meet all these people and I can tell, even if they don’t ask, that they wonder the same thing. And so do I. Why study this stuff?

The argument...

So I just witnessed quite the argument/discussion about Sufism between Ahmed’s brother (white jallaba, beards in hand) and this other fella (jeans, polo, younger, studying with Mohammad). The brother was lecturing the other on what a Sufi is. The other is now de-stressing with Mohammed’s sister, and I believe that I heard him say “Ana tasawwuf!” a few times. I think that he was just scolded, and I only hope that I didn’t cause this by coming downstairs at a terrible moment! I really need to learn my Arabic.

Earlier today I found out that Hejji Karim knows a Gnawa! Hopefully it’s true! I am afraid that I need to initiate more intentionally.

Annie and I had a wonderful morning, sitting with the group around the corner (Said, Hejji, some old men). We talked, had tea, and she was given earrings and a port d’eau (?). I even got a ring from the deal. We met my family and had some lunch before she had to head back.