Join on WhatsApp
Join on Telegram
Kenitra — If you are invited to attend a Moroccan wedding, get some good sleep beforehand and be prepared to dance.
As an international student in Morocco this spring, I was invited to attend the wedding of my host sisters’ childhood best friend.
I did not know what to expect going into the night. I thought that the wedding would last until midnight, 2 a.m. at the latest. I was wrong.
We got to the venue, a large beautifully decorated hall at 8 p.m., and did not leave until 5:30 in the morning.
It was a nearly 10-hour affair. If we had stayed an hour longer, we would’ve been there for the sunrise.
This, I learned, was normal for Moroccan weddings. In fact, I had attended one of the shorter ones. Traditional wedding celebrations can last for seven full days.
The night was absolutely magical — full of dancing, good food, and lots of celebration.
Upon entering the venue, each guest was offered a stuffed date covered in toppings ranging from chopped kiwis to gold-flaked walnuts.
When the live band, or “jouk,” arrived, it started warming up the crowd by playing drums, clapping, and singing. As they played, all of the wedding guests gathered around them, dancing to the music.
The wedding party officially started with the bride making her grand entrance atop an Amaria — a golden carriage carried by four men. Holding the platform on their shoulders, the men danced the bride through the crowd as she greeted and waved to her guests.
Then, the married couple posed on a decorated couch for photos before the bride went back upstairs to change into her second dress.
As she got ready, we were served little cakes and treats at our table that was beautifully decorated with a tall flower arrangement. The band started playing music, bringing the guests to their feet to dance.
In total our bride had four dress changes. In traditional Moroccan weddings a bride can have up to seven dress changes, each representing a different region of Morocco.
Guests wore traditional caftans (a long dress) and takchitas (a two-piece dress) for women, and men wore either suits or jilibas. I was in a borrowed purple and bronze caftan from my host sister.
The dancing only stopped, momentarily, when the Negafa women, who are the bride’s caretakers, announced the start of dress number two – the green dress.
The bride, who appeared wearing an elegant green and gold caftan and adorning a crown, walked with her groom — dressed in a white jilaba — into the center of the wedding venue where two green carriages awaited them. They were lifted in the air in the carriages as the men danced them through the crowds and chanted.
Then, the bride sat down to get henna on her hands as the groom left to prepare for the next part of the ceremony — dfoua, or the groom’s gifts. Soon he returned with gifts for his bride carried in beautiful cone-shaped boxes, each took two men to carry.
Afterwards, it was time for dress number three. As the bride headed upstairs to change into her red ensemble, guests were entertained with more music, more dancing, and more tea.
That was the pattern of the evening — an hour of dancing with the bride and groom, an hour of dancing while the bride changed, then another hour of dancing with the married couple.
Needless to say, my feet, which were housed in a pair of stilettos my host sister kindly gave me, were numb by the end of the night.
It wasn’t until 2 a.m. that we sat down for dinner — which was an extravagant multi-course affair ending in a round of fruit.
At 3:30 a.m. our first (and only) round of coffee was served. The caffeine was a much-needed revitalization — until I realized that the coffee meant there was still more of the night to go.
Keep in mind, unlike American weddings, the all-ages dancing and celebrations of this 10-hour affair are fueled solely by Coca Cola and will — no alcohol involved.
The last round of celebrations was the cake cutting ceremony where the bride adorned a white wedding dress. Already stuffed from the constant supply of pastries and the “kuli, kuli” (“eat, eat”) of my host mother, I was still able to find room for a slice.
When I finally got back to the apartment where the bride’s mother was kindly hosting my family, I collapsed on my bed — tired, but happy from the beautiful night.
I am very grateful to the bride’s family for letting me attend this once-in-a-lifetime experience. It was an incredible, sleepless night.
