“Walking into a Moroccan Party” – Harry Sanderson

After a few days of settling in to my new home in Fes, I slowly noticed a trend in the family dynamics. My host mother and sister usually remained at home throughout the day, not leaving the apartment and instead devoting their time to working around the house. Meanwhile, my brother, Ahmeen, would leave in the morning and come back home very late at night. So, I began to ask myself, when would the women get to relax and destress like Ahmeen does?

Unsurprisingly, my initial view of Moroccan society was completely wrong. Coming home late one evening, I walked into our home to find an overwhelming number of women and children socializing in the main living room. I was shocked because every other day the apartment had only ever been filled with my host family. As I walked in, Ahmeen was preparing to leave. Seeing me, he chuckled and said, “It is a party for women. I am not allowed and so I am leaving for the night.”

Initially, this made me uncomfortable. I felt as if I was intruding on a private gathering and so retreated to my bedroom. I sat there listening to cheerful singing, laughter, and music, with no idea what was happening on the other side of my bedroom door. However, after an hour I mustered the courage to walk out of my room and see what was going on. As soon as they saw me, these women cheered and excitedly beckoned for me to come join them. I could not have expected what I saw. A mountain of sweets, cakes, and assorted nuts sat atop a center table. About 10 women and their respective children sat around, dancing, singing, and clapping to the beat of a Moroccan song that blasted out of a complex stereo system. An overwhelming smell of incense filled the room, caused by a burning pot on the center table.

My host sister, with her daughter sitting next to her, proudly called me over to look at the henna tattoos she’d had drawn over her hands and feet. Slowly, I managed to discover that these women and children were all related, and they had gathered to celebrate one another and have some fun.

This party lasted late into the night, so late that as I was going to sleep they showed no signs of slowing down. But, as I lay in bed, I looked back at what I had just experienced and realized the significance of it.

This celebration had allowed Moroccan women, in a dominantly patriarchal society, to cut off some steam, be away from their husbands, and get some much needed bonding time with one another. I realized the privacy of their own homes might be the only place they would be able to relax in this traditional society. I was incredibly glad that I was able to witness this event, as it made me more accustomed to the culture that I had thrown myself into. This event also helped me realize that women who are forced to act and dress conservatively aren’t necessarily like that, and that they love to have fun, dance, and laugh together in the same way that everyone else does. I have respected and cared for my host mother and sister so much more since witnessing this event, and it has helped me embrace this different society and be more excited for what else I will experience.

(While no pictures were allowed at the party, these treats are similar to the ones that were provided)

(The bedroom which we hid in before walking out and joining the party)