Today I worked until about 3 p.m., with a break for couscous at lunchtime. For those of you who haven’t had Moroccan couscous and are wondering what all the fuss is about, I’m not talking about the boxes of couscous that you can buy from Stop and Shop and mix with water.
In Morocco, couscous is traditionally served every Friday, the end of the religious week. The couscous, made from semolina, is the base of the dish, with vegetables piled on top of the hidden meat. The idea is for everyone to fill up on couscous and vegetables, and the meat is saved for last. The meat, vegetables, and spices are boiled in a broth in the bottom of a pot called a couscousiere, and the couscous is steamed above it. It’s so delicious, even Adlani likes it (just the couscous, not the vegetables or meat, of course).
For scale, this bowl is about 24″ around (the potatoes are HUGE):
Late this afternoon we went to the moussem, a cultural festival where several hundred horses and riders in traditional clothing perform fantasia. Fantasia involves a team of riders running from one end of the field to the other, stopping on a dime, and firing their muskets into the air. The object is for the whole team to shoot their guns simultaneously. Historically, fantasia is based on war-time attacks of Berber and desert knights. Now it’s like a sport, or a martial art. It’s really beautiful to see, with plenty of photo ops.
Aliya was a little freaked out being there because she didn’t like the guns and it was very close quarters with the horses, riders, tents, spectators, and merchants. One horse fell during the line-up, and there were several horse-on-horse altercations. The horses were all keyed up, and I can’t blame them, but to move around we had to walk right between the horses who were shackled to ropes. The riders kept loading their guns and firing random shots so Aliya spent the whole time with her fingers in her ears. In her journal she wrote that her favorite thing about the moussem was “leaving.”
I, on the other hand, had a great time. I’m in my glory when there’s something cool to photograph, and I’m never lonely here because someone is always trying to talk to me. And by that I mean someone who is trying to communicate in another language, not someone who’s trying to speak to me when I’m in the bathroom.
The spectator tent:
This place can’t be all bad – there’s cotton candy!!
I wonder what the handprint signifies…
My favorite saddle:
The older man in this photo posed several times and asked if I wanted to take his photo. Each time he seemed to close his eyes on purpose, and kept them closed while I was taking photos. Maybe he was trying to keep me from stealing his soul.
Each team has a tent for the riders:
This is the first time I’ve seen girls participating in fantasia:
Patiently waiting:
At the signal:
And they’re off!
After the moussem we had an impromptu trip to the beach, where we tried unsuccessfully to fly a kite. The highlight of the beach was when a guy walked in front of us leading two camels, and then there was a ruckus and we turned to see a third camel chasing down its comrades. It’s not every day you see a free-running camel.
Uncle Abdullah has the patience of a saint but we could not get that kite up.
Ben wandering into my sunset shot:
We also saw another heddia today, this time carrying food for a wedding. A cow led the procession and I think he knew what was ahead because he was not very cooperative. I’m sure he was on the menu for the wedding dinner.
