Matchmaker, Matchmaker

On our last night with Youssef, our Berber tour guide to the desert, he asked to go through all the photos from my trip.

The first leg is pretty much a slide show of my dear friend Pris on various islands in Greece. Pris at the Parthenon. Pris eating spaghetti. Pris climbing a mountain. Pris playing with cats.

Youssef very much liked Pris. He asked that I bring her back to Morocco next time, so she could marry a good Berber man.

"For marriage! Marriage." (as he motioned placing a ring on his left hand and then pointed to my camera)

He promised he would feed her well with lots of tagine, couscous and kebab.

The day before he had showed us a video on a friend's phone of a traditional Berber wedding ceremony. They last days and involve the bride riding to the groom's home on a camel carrying a load of children in the back.

When I asked who the kids were, he said they were probably just random ones from the village...it didn't really matter. They were meant to bring luck and symbolize a fertile future for the happy new couple.

Don't they tie bells and flowers on the backs of "just married" cars for newlyweds in the States? Or shoes? I guess it's the same thing.

Anyway, it all looks like great fun. Plus, he promised me a fair dowry with many surprise gifts upon our return. I bet I could have gotten a camel out of him for the exchange.

I think she could be happy here too. She loves the beach but doesn't go in the ocean...the sandy Sahara would be perfect! A nice, dry heat and lots of sunshine. There are cats everywhere. Lots of good food to eat.

But they don't do pork, so no bacon...probably a deal-breaker.

Well, if Pris' move to San Francisco or where ever else doesn't pan out, there's always a backup plan in Morocco.
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