BABY BABY BABY.
I’m like any other just-post-adolescent girl…I adore tiny babies, and every time I see one, I want one. Such was the case this afternoon when I met 36hour old Leena, the brand new daughter of my new Moroccan cousin Youssef and his wife. She is absolutely gorgeous in every way.
However, I am well aware of the practicalities of babies, which has to put you off a little. I wouldn’t want to be pregnant, I wouldn’t want crying, and I certainly wouldn’t want all of that in the middle of my degree program. No thanks. Another time maybe. For the Moroccans of course (the religious ones anyway) you have a baby once you get pregnant, which is probably fairly quickly after you get married because of the fact that contraception is not allowed in Islam (as in Catholicism).
EDIT: Can I just say on a later reading (03/03/14) I have no idea what I’m saying here. Contraception is totes allowed in Islam. Just not necessarily used. Whatever. Shut up past me.
Once the baby is born, things are different too. There were huge amounts of food and drink in the house when we got there, gifts because of the baby. Very little for the baby herself I noticed. Then it became clear. You need loads of sweets and cakes and things because the visitors are endless. I think that in the hour we were there, I probably met 50 or 60 new people. The flow of people was endless. And whereas we would spend all our time cooing over mother and child, they were probably the least popular people in the room. A hello from each person, and then down to the chatting. Apart from obligatory Islamic singing, they were left to themselves.
And the singing. Wow. Its nothing like nursery rhymes.
This is one of my personal favourite nursery rhymes, Skye Boat Song.
Ok, sorry, I lied. But seriously, this is Skye Boat Song. It’s not really a nursery rhyme but my Mum used to sing it to me when I was small. It is truly lovely. Enjoy.