Last night I got Henna’d. We had “talked” about it a day or so ago and last night while I was studying at the table all the women started speaking at once in Tashlaheet. Of the 5 conversations going on I understood 2 words: l-Henna and iminsi (dinner). So, I shrugged my shoulders smiled and said waxxa (okay).

Then before dinner they called me into the kitchen and the 4 other women sat around while Fatima (the younger one, there are 2) painted Henna on my hands. It was a long process just putting it on. Then you wait a while for it to dry and then they dabb the hand with a cotton ball soaked in some sort of garlic and oil concoction. It doesn’t smell very good and then they informed me that I couldn’t wash my hands until tomorrow. I have heard from other people, though, that they have had their hands wrapped in plastic bags overnight. Luckily, they didn’t do that to me.

I felt very honored. It felt like an acceptance into a new tribe to have them ask me and take the effort, which it was, to put it on. It is nice having so many women in the house. It definitely feels like a sisterhood and one that they are allowing me to become a part of. They are all very caring and it amazes me how hard they work and still manage to smile all day. I’m not sure I could spend all day in the kitchen constantly cooking and cleaning and I know I couldn’t do it without complaining.