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Photo du rédacteurRamia Beladel

"Waiting for Godot to bless me"

My response, Moulay Bouchta Lkhamar, Fez region, Dec/ 2015


Waiting for Godot to bless me,2017 (Aug) as performed the 4 time in Moulay Bouchta lkhamar, Fez, Morocco.

Thursday, 10 th august at 3 pm, 2017. Here am I for the fourth time reproducing my ritual performance , since the last time in Sidi Ali, I have decided to do another moussem, I was feeling fed up with Sidi Ali, I wanted to know more, to see more, to be more challenged and to challenge my performance, to inject some new elements into it.

Thursday, what a coincidence, even though I don’t believe in coincidence, the first time I ‘ve done the performance was Thursday, it is not a well thought date, or much speculated about the connotation of this fourth day of the week, that happens to randomly meet the fourth time of my ritual.

A new Moussem,  new places, news faces, new woman to take me through the experience, I had for the 3 past times Fatima, and for MoulayBouchtaMoussem, I’ve had Aicha, the similarities between Fatima and Aicha are striking, they both consider themselves as free, independent and yet powerful in some ways, a freedom that I want to taste by opening myself to new things.

I’ve tried to sacred shower (BIR ALCHIFA/ the healing well), which is an individual bathroom, there was some underwear left, some candles alight, some bottles of Rose Water, I was splashing the water from a bucket  that I had to fill from a well. As for my first time I was a bite cheeky, not ready and not steady either, I was just looking around me and wondering about the left underwear, the break up from the things from the past and the present, as these underwear  were before the shower,  and after the shower new underwear  has to be worn, a new way through recovery.

I’ve tried the henna tattoo, I had invented  my own motif and asked the henna woman to reproduce the same, but she was so free and so linked to her own habits, so she had made me a tattoo that is a combination of what I asked and what she is used to do.

This time, I had a strange urge to invade myself with the rose water, I wanted to inhale it and smell it all over the place, after four days witnessing the Moulay Bouchta moussem, where I was collecting all the energy and the vibes in order to have the push  to reproduce my ritual, the fourth day, the Thursday afternoon was the promised day.

My violet gold caftan on, my make up on, my offerings ready, I went to Sidi Lhsen place, a marabou in the hill, the yard is having a view on all Moulay Bouchta village.

I started my ritual, ready and steady, confidante, happy and proud, I was blowing balloon after another, my trance was jovial one, tears from joy, tears for new things I’ve done during this journey, tears for the “sick” women that are willing to do anything in order to be blessed and to be free, women that were ready to try anything  even gunshots near to their  feet couldn’t  stop them, on the contrary they were treating these gunshots as therapy, I felt so close with my balloons  as nothing is orthodox in these practices.









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