I attended a wedding of a friend, Hafil, on the West side of town in the old district of Harrash two weeks ago. With the surname Hamzaoui, Hafil has an extended family of maybe 250 in Gafait. I like to joke sometimes and say that everyone in Gafait is Hamzaoui.
The wedding ceremony that I attended along with other men included dancing, eating, fundraising for the newly married (isn't this just a given at all weddings), and general socializing. The women had their night together the previous evening. Friends and family started prepping for the ceremony in mid afternoon, the ceremony began at dusk with a caravan of cars returning from the mausoleum of Sidi Hamza near the Kaid's office. I left at approximately 11 PM and the festivities probably continued till 2 AM.
(Note: there are two mausoleums in Gafait, the other one being named after Ben Abdelrahman. In general, mausoleums in Morocco are small shrines housing the remains of important local Islamic leaders from the past. And in many cases, although I have not validated this statement with these two particular men, these were Islamic missionaries, spreading Islam through N. Africa centuries before and combating or replacing the indigenous Berber's paganism).
The groom arriving by horse at the wedding reception.
Members of the band (includes percussion and a wood instrument resembling a clarinet), the wedding czar (who solicited money for the couple later in the night), and the wedding singer.
Line dancing with canes, drums, and some men that really know how to dance, which is mostly in the shoulders and hips. Sometimes in large groups of 6-10 like that pictured, but more often in smaller groups, men stand in front of the audience and entertain their friends. I always deftly avoid dancing at weddings. I do enough already to embarrass and bring attention to myself.
"Seven blunders of the world that lead to violence: wealth without work, pleasure without conscience, knowledge without character, commerce without morality, science without humanity, worship without sacrifice, politics without principle." 
Rasheed on Saidia beach midsummer while Josh looks on in jealously. Don't hate Josh, don't hate! Yet, I can understand. It's hard not to be green-eyed towards a man like Rasheed.
The tourist season in Gafait officially ended last week, although the largest and nicest café will stay open during Ramadan to house entertainment and late night coffee socialites. Store owners began closing their shops, taking away shop materials and food items.
In the recent parliamentary elections held last Friday, 37% of eligible Moroccan voters went to the ballots. In all, there are 31 political parties in the country and 27 were accounted for in nearby Jerada.
I talked with my family; brothers, mother, father, sister-in-laws, and nieces for the first time via video last Monday on Labor Day. A time for picnics and golf tournaments in the states, I did not celebrate the holiday here. However, setting your own daily itinerary most days probably offsets that.
The groom arriving by horse at the wedding reception.
Members of the band (includes percussion and a wood instrument resembling a clarinet), the wedding czar (who solicited money for the couple later in the night), and the wedding singer. 
Line dancing with canes, drums, and some men that really know how to dance, which is mostly in the shoulders and hips. Sometimes in large groups of 6-10 like that pictured, but more often in smaller groups, men stand in front of the audience and entertain their friends. I always deftly avoid dancing at weddings. I do enough already to embarrass and bring attention to myself.
