A Sad Day in Tounfite...

View from my Roof

I'm very sad to say that my host great-grandfather passed away on in the early hours of Tuesday morning. The past week has certainly been the saddest of my service, with all my family in mourning. BaHaLu, (grandfather) as we called him, was Mamaksu's (my host grandmother) and MBarsh's (my landlord) father.

I am certain that he is in a better place now, as for the past year, every time I have visited my landlords' house, BaHaLu has been lying in his makeshift bed in the corner of the living room, next to the furno (woodstove). He ate all his meals and spent all his time there only getting up, with assistance, to go to the toilet.

When I left for my morning run on Tuesday, I saw a crowd outside the family's house and instantly knew why. For the past couple weeks, every time I have dined with the family, BaHaLu barely ate anything, pushing the food away as MBarsh tried to feed him. And with the very cold weather we have had, it all added up immediately.

I waited until the afternoon to stop by and pay my respects. In the end I was there for nine hours that evening and I returned again the next day for a few hours. Family came from all over Morocco to be together and to mourn. I can not imagine how exhausting it must have been for Mama (MBarsh's wife) as their home was filled with 50+ people for three days. The door was always open and members of the community came in and out to pay their respects from 9am until well past midnight each day. Every time a woman hugged Mamaksu or another close relative of BaHaLu, there was hysterically sobbing from both of the women for a few minutes, even if sometimes there were no tears left to be shed, sobbing continued.

There was a small army of women in the kitchen ensuring that tea and bouchiere (fried flaky bread) were on constant offer. At meal times a feast was offered to all that were in the house. Lunch was three courses and dinner as well. The amount of work that took place in the tiny kitchen during those three days was beyond incredible. Imagine, feeding 50+ people twice a day and always having bread and tea on hand, all the while grieving BaHaLu's death.

As with most gatherings, men and women sat in separate rooms. Prayer could be heard almost continually coming from the men's room, and sobbing from the women's. The first hour was quite awkward for me as I have only ever been to western style funerals and I wasn't quite sure what the protocol was for an Islamic funeral.

As I entered the room, I greeted each woman by touching their palms to mine and then kissing my hand, this is a common greeting and is used daily. For the immediate family, we greeted by kissing cheeks 4-10 times and I said the phrase Baraka Frasskum which means, Blessings to you all, and is a way of giving condolences in Arabic. After greeting every woman in the room, Mamaksu insisted I sit next to her and for the rest of the afternoon and evening, we sat together and greeted the masses of friends and family who came to pay their respects.

Things have calmed down now and are slowly getting back to normal, but BaHaLu will most certainly be missed by all. May he rest in peace.

Sending love to you all,

Miriam xXx

P.S. I almost forgot to mention that while at the funeral, Mamaksu introduced me to one of my host-cousins, a woman who lives in Meknes. Turns out she is an English teach in the Moroccan Air Force. It was nice to have someone to speak a English with and funnily enough, her husband is also in the Air Force and spent six years in America at Lackland Air Force Base in Texas and in Tucson, Arizona at Davis Air Force Base--working on F-16's!!! For those that don't know, once upon a time my Dad was also in the US Air Force...working on F-16's!