From My Files 1: Some Jagua History

It's been a while since my last blog. The truth is that I've been very busy with my doctoral program and I haven't had time to research and write the lengthy articles as in the past. But I'm going through my henna files in preparation for HennaCon 2017 and thought I'd post some shorter snippets of interesting history... So welcome to the first instalment of this "From My Files" series! My goal is to post one a week from now until Henna Con — that's only 12 weeks away!!! Can you believe it? So feel free to check in every week (you can subscribe by email, or follow us on Facebook), and let the countdown begin!

Hahiya jat! Lalla ‘Aisha! [She Has Come! Lalla ‘Aisha!]: Henna and the Jnun

It feels strange, but my Moroccan summer adventure is over, seemingly as fast as it begun. I learnt so much and I’m so grateful to have had the opportunity… And of course, I can’t wait to go back! I still have so much to learn. When I said goodbye to the secretary at the Arabic program, I told her, "I hope to come back soon, inshaAllah [G!d-willing]!" She looked at me and said, "Oh, you'll be back." InshaAllah!

I’m still sorting through the material that I collected this time, so even though I’ve left Morocco you can expect at least a few more Moroccan posts. And of course, if you have any specific questions, ask away!

For my last weekend in Morocco, I took a trip to a few pilgrimage sites around the Fes/Meknes area, including one with particular resonance for henna artists — the mausoleum of Sidi Ali ben Ḥamdush (or Ḥamdouche), the founder of the Ḥamadsha Sufi brotherhood, and the grotto of the jinniyya ‘Aisha Qandisha, the Ḥamadsha’s feared and revered spirit-interlocutor. In this post I’m going to explore the henna connection to ‘Aisha Qandisha and the Ḥamadsha, and more broadly, the relationship between henna and the jnun [spirits] in Morocco.

Candles and henna leaves for Lalla 'Aisha in her grotto.

I obviously only have space here for a very brief introduction; for more fuller treatments of the jnun in Morocco, the definitive early work is Westermarck (1926), and Crapanzano’s work (1973; 1980) is now a classic in the field. Some good contemporary pieces include Pandolfo (1997), Ma‘ruf (2007), Kapchan (2007), and Maréchal and Dassetto (2014). 

I’ll also take this moment to plug a great source for information on Moroccan henna: the definitive work on the artistry, culture, and significance of henna in Morocco, by renowned artists Lisa ‘Kenzi’ Butterworth and Nic Tharpa Cartier — Moor: A Henna Atlas of Morocco (2010). If you’re interested in Moroccan henna this book is a must-have.

BshHal [How much]? Shopping in the Henna Market of Fes

With only a week left in Morocco, I'm trying desperately to cram in as much henna as I can. I can't believe my time here has gone by so fast! I still have a number of areas where I'm hoping to do more research, including the relationship between henna and the jnun and the distinctive characteristics of Fassi-style henna. In the meantime, I thought I'd do a feature post on the henna market of Fes, a lovely local piece of henna history hidden away in the medina [old city].

Words used to describe the medina in Fes include bewildering, overwhelming, a maze, a labyrinth, a sensory overload, and a maddeningly enjoyable experience. It stretches for almost 3 square kilometres (280 hectacres), a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the largest car-free zones in the world. Within the medina, goods are transported on hand-drawn carts or by one of the many patient mules and donkeys accustomed to its cobblestone alleys.

The medina is home to over 150,000 inhabitants, and many Fassis who live in the New City still come here to shop or work, not to mention the thousands of tourists from around the world who can be seen on every corner puzzling over maps, photographing the historic buildings and postcard-perfect marketplace atmosphere, and attempting (usually unsuccessfully) not to be hustled out of their last dirham.

The trick to capturing this serene moment:
go to the medina at 8 in the morning when
you can't sleep because it's already 35 degrees.

The medina is actually not a free-for-all sprawl, but is fairly organized and not difficult to navigate once you learn to orient yourself. There are two main thoroughways which run (mostly) parallel through the medina: Tal‘a Kbira and Tal‘a Ṣghira — ‘Great Slope’ and ‘Little Slope,’ respectively, alluding to the angle of the street. Most of the medina is on a slope, and so if you’re walking downhill you’re probably heading east, toward the ‘bottom’ of the medina, Place Rṣif, and uphill is probably toward Bab Boujloud, the main ‘entrance’ of the medina.

The majority of the buildings in the medina today date to the Marinid dynasty (13th-15th centuries), but there are a few even older monuments, including the oldest continuously-operating university in the world, al-Qarawiyyin, founded in 859 by Fatima al-Fihri.

Hey Hannaya: A Moroccan Henna Artist in Action

There's only so much information you can get from asking women on the streets about their henna, so I decided to go to the source and find some ḥannayat ('henna artists' — in Fes they use the word ḥannaya rather than neqasha as in other parts of Morocco). In this post I'm going to feature the work of a local ḥannaya whom I spent some time with on Sunday; hopefully I will be able to see one or two more ḥannayat in action.

A— is the “resident ḥannaya” of Café Clock, a popular restaurant and cultural centre in the medina of Fes (with a sister café that just opened in Marrakech). She has been a henna artist for 17 years, and she began working at Café Clock four years ago. She works there ‘on call’ — if you want henna, you can ask the servers to call her for you, and she shows up within about half an hour. The café also hosts her on Sunday evenings starting at 6:30, when it’s not Ramadan.

A working on a fusion piece.

I first met A one Sunday afternoon at the café; she had come in to henna another client and I asked if I can watch. The client (a young woman from the Netherlands traveling with her father) pointed at a photograph showing two hands hennaed with full bildi (‘old-fashioned’) Fassi henna, but A did a more modern khaleeji/bildi fusion with some open space. The client was satisfied, though, and paid 150 dh (about 18 USD) for both hands.

I wanted to see more of A's traditional Fassi work, however, so I returned with a friend from school who had graciously agreed to be my henna ‘wing-woman’ and help me with my research. 

A sat and patiently answered my questions about henna while my friend R— and her boyfriend J— ate lunch, and then she hennaed my friend while I took photo and video.

A doesn’t work at other cafés or public places; outside of Café Clock her henna income comes from private appointments and brides. She told me that she learnt henna art on her own, without a teacher, and that henna artists in Morocco work alone. “We don’t have any associations for henna artists like writers or teachers have,” she told me somewhat wistfully. 

I wanted to let her know about the wonderful networking and camaraderie that we henna artists have in North America, but I wasn’t sure how to tell her, since I was ‘undercover’ and hadn’t told her that I was a henna artist (in Morocco it’s seen as shameful for men to be involved with henna or have elaborate henna themselves). Maybe I should have — I just don’t know how she would have reacted. I think I also wanted the conversation to be about her, not about me; if I see her again, I'll probably tell her.

A looked over some of the photos I had taken of henna on the streets, and identified the different designs for me, classifying them into two types — bildi, referring to the designs I call ‘true Fassi,’ and romi, ‘modern,’ referring both to the few floral pieces I’d seen and to the confusing fusion pieces which were full coverage but not classic Fassi, which she also called mukhallaṭ, ‘mixed.’ As it turned out, one of the pieces that I had photographed was actually her work on a private client! We had a good laugh about that.

Will the Real Fassi Henna Please Stand Up? Researching Henna in Fes

Ramadan mubarak sa'id! The blessed month of Ramadan has arrived with a bang (literally — they fire the city cannons), the fast has begun, and I am, as hard as it to believe, officially at the halfway mark of my time in Morocco. And now, dear readers, your first long-awaited all-about-henna post.

Walking around in Fes, one sees henna all around — although not as much as I had expected. I would estimate that I only see about 2 or 3 women a day with henna, and sometimes that’s just hennaed nails or palms. But the other part that I didn’t expect was how challenging it would be to document. 

When I see people with nice henna, I’ve tried to ask them for a picture but sometimes it’s just someone passing in the marketplace so I don’t have a chance. Yesterday I saw a woman with her hands covered in fabulous geometric henna, but as I was about to ask her if I could take a photo she jumped in a cab. Even when I do ask I’m often refused — sometimes they politely say no, or just shake their heads and walk away; once a tourist with lovely Fassi strips didn't even respond (I'm assuming she thought I was a street hustler).

Every time, I get this terrible feeling of disappointment, mostly at myself — maybe I could have phrased the question differently? Maybe I should just point at the camera quickly instead of trying to engage in conversation? Maybe I should have asked earlier? Or later?

The fact that I am both male and a foreigner only makes things worse. Last week on my way home from class I saw a (religious) woman with hands and feet covered in gorgeous, fresh henna in heavy Sahrawi [southern Morocco / Sahara] designs. I started to ask her if I could take a picture but her friend interrupted saying that she had to go, and they moved to the other side of the plaza, giving me dirty looks the whole time.

A henna artist at work in Fes — notice that her client is
getting a khaleeji design while she herself is wearing
a fresh geometric 'true Fassi' style design.

Perhaps it’s the ‘One That Got Away’ Syndrome... But I feel like the henna that I haven’t been able to capture has been the nicest henna that I’ve seen. Although, it also makes sense that the women wearing the most traditional henna would also be the most traditional when it comes to taking pictures. 

I know I shouldn’t beat myself up but every time I miss an opportunity or bungle a conversation, it eats at me for the rest of the day. Who knew henna research was so emotionally complicated!

But, enough about my failures. Let’s talk about henna! What’s most interesting about the henna that I have seen is that most of it has not been what I think of as ‘true Fassi’ style, which is easy to recognize but hard to describe: a geometric, non-stacked, layout; triangular/diamond internal division; star/cross/tree/herringbone fill; zigzag edging, etc… 

The most popular style that I have seen is the floral style that Moroccans call khaleeji [Gulf], which varies in quality from excellent to incredibly sloppy. And while khaleeji is what is commonly done for tourists, I have seen plenty of local Moroccans wearing khaleeji as well. 

But more interestingly, several different people that I talked to have identified their henna as Fassi style, while their henna ranges from designs that could have been drawn straight from the ‘Fassi’ section of Moor: A Henna Atlas of Morocco, to people wearing patterns that I would not classify as remotely close to what I think of ‘Moroccan' at all. Is there such a thing as a 'Fassi' style? Is it the same as what we call Fassi style in North America? Is it unique to Fes? So many unanswered henna questions!

Ma Fahemtsh [I Didn’t Understand]: First Days in Fes

Arriving in Fes, I was hit with a wall of heat when I walked off the train from Casablanca. While Casa was certainly warm, Fes is pretty hot — during the day it hovers around 38/39 C (that’s about 100-102 F), although it can go down to a balmy 30 C (86 F) at night.

I hopped in a cab and headed straight for le Centre Americain [the American Centre] — the local name for the Arabic Language Institute in Fes where I am studying Colloquial Arabic Moroccan, aka Darija. I checked in and filled out some paperwork, and then my host family came to meet me and take me to the apartment where I’m staying for the rest of my time here.

My host family is lovely! It includes my host mother, A—, her 20-year-old daughter F—, her sister N—, and N’s adorable 3-year-old son K—. They live in a lovely small apartment in the medina [old city] right next to a big palatial residence called Dar Tazi with gorgeous gardens.

My host brother/cousin! I understand about 5% of what
he says... I'll be lucky if I can leave Morocco with the
vocabulary of a 3-year-old.

Nabda [We Begin]! First Days in Morocco

Morocco Day One: Arrival

My flight was fairly uneventful, with the excitement of being briefly pressed into service to translate for an elderly Moroccan woman who spoke only Arabic — I hope it’s a good omen to get things off to a good start. Unusually, I didn’t see much henna in the airport — one Moroccan woman with dipped fingers, a Sudanese family with bold designs, unfortunately in black henna, and a number of women with black henna in the East African style.

East African style black 'henna' in
the Amsterdam airport.

I landed in Casablanca and met my Couchsurfing host at the train station. We dropped my things off at his place and went to explore the centre of the city — Casablanca is not a historically preserved city like Fes, it has a very urban and industrial feel to it, and yet there’s something beautiful about these decaying old buildings covered with graffiti and “For Rent” signs.

I would totally rent this building!

Yum! Fresh fish, Casablanca docks.

Walking around, we ran into some friends of my host and we went down to the docks together, where the fishermen were sorting the last of the day’s catch and putting away the nets. On our way back, we stopped in the market for some snails (a traditional Moroccan delicacy) and another woman at our table had the most gorgeous henna! Dense, precise geometrics (what I think of classic ‘Fessi style’) over the backs and palms, with an interesting floral strip (possibly stenciled) along the sides of her hand. I tried to surreptitiously grab a photo but it was very dark and she was on her way out; I should have worked up the courage to ask her to take a nice picture! I’m kicking myself. You’ll have to take my word on how beautiful the designs were, and I promise the next time I see henna I will make sure to stop and ask if I can photograph it.

My host parents were waiting for us with some delicious vegetarian harira [bean soup] which I greatly appreciated; luckily I already knew the most important phrase in Moroccan Arabic: tbarakAllah fik [G!d bless you], which is what you say when you’ve finished eating so that they don’t keep refilling your bowl. As it was I had to eat two full bowls of soup. 

We sat and talked in what is becoming my usual broken mix of fuṣḥa [standard Arabic], the few words I know of Darija [colloquial Moroccan Arabic], French, and English when necessary. I keep coming up with random words I remember from my Standard Arabic class — al-iqtiṣad [economy], ‘ilm al-insan [anthropology], al-madrasa al-ibdita’iyya [elementary school] — so my Arabic is probably a funny mix of randomly swinging between very colloquial and very formal.

Day Two

I got an early start today — I had accidentally set my clock to the local time in Amsterdam, which is an hour ahead of Casablanca, so I got up at six am. Fortunately that meant I could eat breakfast with my host parents before the dad left for work, which was nice.

Then it was off to the Museum of Moroccan Jewry, a rare and special place that has been open on and off since 2003; I think it was closed the other time I was in Morocco, so I’d never been. A professor that I know is actually doing research in the Museum Archives (housing the Rabat Geniza) so he offered to meet me there and take me around.

I want all of it. Silver jewelry, Museum of Moroccan Jewry.

It was really amazing — if you are in Casablanca, do not miss this treat of a museum! Many gorgeous examples of Jewish jewelry and silver from all over Morocco, including a full reproduction of a Jewish silversmith’s shop with tools and unfinished pieces, and of course many beautiful displays of hamsas and amulets, giant rings, jeweled headdresses from the south, and much more. 

And of course there are also many beautiful examples of Jewish ritual objects, from Torah scrolls to tallit bags, synagogue lamps and even several wooden bimot from various synagogues in Morocco.

Torah scroll pointer and ornaments, Museum of Moroccan Jewry.

Looks just like my room! Books everywhere. RGP archives.

But the best part for me was getting to work in the archives (and thanks to Pr. Oren Kosansky for inviting me in and to my new friend Maïa for showing me the ropes!). The 'Rabat geniza' contains thousands of documents, mostly from the 19th and 20th centuries, including Hebrew and Judeo-Arabic religious texts, legal and administrative documents, and personal letters collected from synagogues and Jewish community centres in Rabat. Pr. Kosansky's initiative, The Rabat Geniza Project, is cataloguing, scanning, and (eventually) transcribing and translating them. In fact, they will soon be hosting an exhibition at the Museum of selected documents from the Geniza. 

My dream job! Identifying Judeo-Arabic haggada pages with the Rabat Geniza Project.

I was generously invited to roll up my sleeves and jump in! We were working on some uncatalogued fragments of religious texts, and I was able to help identify several Hebrew texts while I was there so that they could be properly entered in the register. It was a great honour to be involved in the project.

I love the Andalusi architectural style.
Masjid Hassan II in Casablanca.

Finally, we finished the day with a trip to the gorgeous Hassan II mosque and a walk around the medina. I saw a few more examples of lovely henna, including full hand dips, resist/stencils on feet, and nice geometric work. 

Unfortunately the only example I’ve been able to photograph so far is this piece on a woman at the Hassan II mosque; it is a great example of what is termed ‘khaleeji’ [Gulf] style in Morocco, although it is quite different than both ‘true’ Gulf style as well as what is termed khaleeji or Arabic style in India. I also saw some neqashat working in the medina in Casablanca but unfortunately they were using black henna and doing only short khaleeji style strips.

Khaleeji style henna at the Hassan II mosque, Casablanca.

Overall, a wonderful introduction to Morocco. I’m now off to Fes, where I will be spending the remainder of my time. Stay tuned for more adventures!

"The Land of the Moors" — I'm Off to Morocco!

Tomorrow, I leave for Morocco, to participate in a six-week immersion program in colloquial Moroccan Arabic (also known as Darija). The program is hosted by ALIF, an Arabic language centre in Fes, where I will be staying with a host family. I should also note that my trip was funded by a generous grant from the Centre for Jewish Studies at the University of Toronto.

I am very excited, even though there is still so much I don't know: what will my host family be like? Who else is in my program? Will I get hopelessly lost in the cobblestoned medina [old quarter]? Will I be able to understand a single word I hear in the streets? 

And of course, I hope that I'll be able to learn more about Moroccan henna while I'm there. Fes is renowned for its henna artists (the origin of the "Fessi style" we know and love) and I would love to be able to watch a local neqasha [henna artist] at work and even ask some questions. I don't know how much time I'll have outside of class, but at the very least I'm sure there will be plenty of beautiful henna around, and I'll make sure to grab pictures inchaAllah [G!d-willing].

My work in the Fessi style, 2014.

I'm also hoping to meet some of the local Jewish community. While Fes was once a centre for Jewish culture and life (the great rabbi Maimonides studied there, among other notable figures), unfortunately only a hundred or so Jews remain and there is almost no Jewish presence in the 'old city' of the Fes Medina. There are still beautiful synagogues and other historical buildings, and I'm looking forward to discovering more of Jewish Fes.

I'll try to post as often as I can, although I don't know how reliable my internet access will be and I don't know how much time I'll have to write posts. But I will certainly try my best to make sure that there's a picture and a brief update here at least once a week. Follow along by subscribing to this blog so that you don't miss a post!

The student manual that the program sent us included Budgett-Meakin's 1901 travelogue "The Land of the Moors" on the list of recommended introductory reading. And since I am a conscientious student, of course, I went straight to the library (or internet, as the case might be). Meakin writes that Fez is "the true metropolis of Morocco... rich in the richest gifts to the Eastern taste" (pg. 235), and concludes (pg. 274):

So much for the Fez of to-day, by far the most interesting town in Morocco, both as to its history and its contents, well worth a visit from the intelligent explorer able to appreciate and study things Moorish. What it may become in a generation it would be bootless to guess. There is just a possibility that it may still be the rambling city it now is, but the chances are all in favour of its seeing many alterations ere that, in its inhabitants, if not in its stones. It is by no means improbable that by that time the proud Fasis may have to own a different master from the easy-going shareefs of the present dynasty. Who can say?

A view of Fez, from Budgett-Meakin's The Land of the Moors, 1901

I do hope I qualify as an "intelligent explorer" and I certainly aim to study as much as I can and appreciate my time in "the most interesting town in Morocco." I look forward to the visit — whether I will succeed in navigating the streets of the medina, well, who can say?

Henna in the Academy: Upcoming Presentation Schedule

I'm very grateful and excited to have the opportunity to present papers at three academic conferences this spring, so I thought it might interest people to know where I'll be and to get a glimpse of what my more formal academic work looks like. It's one thing for me to write blogposts and teach at henna conferences, which is certainly lots of fun, and another thing altogether to be able to frame my work as a productive area of research in current academic discourse — still fun, but challenging in a different way. I am, and have always been, so grateful to have the opportunity to research henna formally, and I hope that my work proves to be of benefit to all — henna artists, the academy, the Jewish community, and anyone interested in how religion, history, bodies, and art intersect. 

I don't know if the conferences are open to the public (I doubt it), but of course, if I'll be in your town, I'd be happy to meet up! I should also note that in between these conferences I will also be teaching at the Henna Gathering, March 28-30, in Hartford, CT!

I've copied the titles and abstracts below... I hope this gives you a little taste of what an academic analysis of henna looks like. If you're particularly interested in one of the papers, the conference proceedings might be published, and there may be another way to get it to you.

February 20-21: University of Indiana-Bloomington

“Not a Single Memory Left”: 

Jewish henna and the malleability of memory

Many Jewish weddings, in Israel as well as North America, include a ceremony known as the “henna night” (leil haḥinna). These ceremonies today are largely practiced by Jews of non-European origin — the Jewish communities of North Africa, the Levant and Mediterranean basin, and Western, Central and Southern Asia — although they have spread to Ashkenazi communities as well. The discourse around (and during) henna ceremonies appeals to memory as a crucial factor in their continued importance. Participants are instructed to ‘remember the traditions’ and applauded for their work in ‘keeping the memories alive.’ At the same time, it is clear that the form of these ceremonies has undergone a process of evolution, modification and reinterpretation over time, especially in the past six decades since the ‘aliya of these communities. This paper explores what is being remembered, what is being forgotten, and what it means for young Jews to remember places they have never seen.

Moroccan henna night, Israel, 2010

In this paper I argue that these ceremonies demonstrate how memory is not so much a telling of ‘the past as it was,’ as it is a telling of ‘the past as it might have been’ — that is, the effect of memory constructs its truth through cultural serviceability rather than historical accuracy. This paper will probe the nature of Jewish cultural memory, and the relationship between memory and cultural change, through a close reading of data collected in research on contemporary henna ceremonies, including observations at henna ceremonies in Israel and North America, conversations with the participants and hosts, and interviews with henna organizers. A comparison between historical records of Jewish henna ceremonies in texts and pictures, and henna ceremonies as currently performed, shows that the contemporary ceremony differs significantly from its predecessors in both material and theoretical aspects. The narratives of participants and organizers alike acknowledge their own role in reshaping and recreating new traditions while at the same time insisting on their role in preserving and passing on the importance of ethnic and cultural memory.