Last night was probably one of the most bizarre cross-cultural experiences I have ever had in my life. After a beautiful drive from Beni Mallal, we arrived into Marrakesh at dusk. After a very intense 90 minutes looking for an acceptable hotel, we finally settled on a slightly upmarket place right off the Djemma el Fna, a large square where acrobats, story tellers, remedy sellers, snake charmers and the like gather in the evenings to display their talents or wares in the hope of earning several dirham if an onlooker is duly impressed. As we were settling into the hotel, Haim called Zvoulon and Estelle to let them know that we were arrived and give them our location...it was at this point that we were told were were expected at a relatively fancy Noel party in 30 minutes.
Fast forward 40 minutes of relatively controlled chaos, and we were all in the taxi,showered, primped, and with mostly clean clothing, heading towards their hotel. We arrived and headed to the dining room, where, in typical fashion, they were no where to be found! We finally found them waiting for us with some friends in the hotel's rather obscure corner bar.
We all headed back to the restaurant, passing through a corridor beautifully decorated with candles and bronze lanterns, sheer fabrics and rose petals; the restaurant, however, was decorated in a decidedly gaudy Christmas fashion. In the front corner of the room were two sparkling lounge singers, and their keyboard playing male back up singer. One of the lounge singers had an impressive aging beauty, the other reminded me of Helena Bonham Carter's character in Fight Club...and, true to the movie, did seem rather stoned. As we walked in they were doing a cover of Sting's Shape of my Heart, as adolescent french boys were forced into waltzing with mothers and grandmothers in the dance floor to the left. Haim commented that the whole event felt rather wedding-like. As the dancing wound down and dinner was beginning the singers burst into Hava Nagila, joined by almost all of the diners....were we in a Jewish Wedding in New Jersey or a Noel celebration at a French chain hotel in Morocco...at this point I wasn't sure anymore!
The bizarre bent of the evening's entertainment continued as the singers took a break and were replaced by about 15 young men and women performing an hour long lip synced revue of (what I can only imagine to be) their interpretation of both western culture and what they imagine westerners would like...there were some classic french romance songs (the the requisite drunk french pretend-stumbling around the stage), some samba numbers with the men in fluorescent midriff bearing outfits, the requisite Michael Jackson numbers, and finally some "river dance." All in all a fascinating evening of entertainment, and with that we went back to our hotel and drifted into a well deserved slumber.
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