Determining the Camel Price

Tonight my roomie and I headed over into Old Fes to visit with a family that she knows there. Walking through an area that obviously did not see many (if any) tourists, I felt like quite the spectacle. Finally arriving at the house, we were ushered in, being greeted by a flurry on introductions and the customary kissing. As we were seated, it seemed like the extent of the family was never exhausted, as the house continually filled with new faces and names. As it turns out, 4 generations of family members were all living in the one house.  

Hospitable as always, the traditional tea was poured, and following it was plates of food and bread, LOTS of bread! “Cooli, Cooli, Cooli! (Eat, Eat, Eat! ),” their mom said as she piled even more food in front of my place. “Shbet!” I finally cried, declaring that I was full and would die if I ate another bite. Unconvinced she continued, I refused, and she asked again. Becoming like steps to an all too familiar dance, the pattern of being offered and refusing repeats itself at nearly every Moroccan meal. As all this is going on, numerous conversations in multiple languages are carrying across the table, most of which I cannot understand. That is until an all too familiar question sails my way.

Not realizing that I understand, someone at the table asks my friend in Arabic if I am married. Not even wanting to start up that conversation, I let her handle it and went back to my discussion with their mom about the fact that I REALLY was full. All the sudden I caught wind of a series of numbers being flung back and forth across the table, like a ball in a game of tennis. It was apparent that they were bartering for something, but I hadn’t heard enough to gather the full extent of the conversation. Deciding to switch my focus, I quickly realized that it wasn’t something they were bargaining over,
but someone… ME!  

As I would later come to fully understand, my roommate had begun to sell me off for marriage and they were going back and forth to determine my camel price! I heard the numbers climb, “50” “no” “150” “still too low” and on and on. When the discussion was finally finished and I was about 7 shades of red, it was decided that I had a very high camel price: ALL THE CAMELS IN THE WORLD!  

I have decided that this is a reasonable price, but they have to all be present before I will consent.