Hookah Fun

The Marrakesh Café, located on Hillsborough Street in Raleigh, is a place I had not heard about until recently. One of my good friends who is Egyptian has always ranted on about how cool and fun it is, but I never gave it much thought. Last weekend I decided to check it out for myself.

The small, festive looking building sitting on the corner of the street caught my attention before I even stepped inside. Windows panes decorated with brightly colored hookahs, a few tables arranged outside, and a roof that was oddly shaped makes it stand out from the adjacent Chinese restaurant and pizzeria. From the outside it appeared fairly small . I was a little nervous going without my friend who was a regular, but I quickly opened the door that was covered with fliers.

“Friday night – Belly Dancer – No Cover Charge!”

I have only seen belly dancers on TV usually at a party or club. While entering I was greeted with the sounds of loud music which I didn’t quickly recognize. Drums and fast rhymes crammed the place with a sense of exhilaration and excitement. I looked around for the closest seat. No chairs. Against the wall were couch-like seats, with the wall as back support. Each individual cushion was unique with different colors and designs. Small octagon-shaped tables were placed wherever they were needed. On the floor in the corners were actual pillows to sit on. They looked comfortable, but I wasn’t going to move.

As I quietly sat against the wall, I looked up and around studying the wall decor. There were various pictures of Moroccan places, pyramids, and people. Moroccan paintings of symbolic places, people, and objects gave culture to the cafe. I then noticed a Moroccan man making his way from the register over to my table. He was one of the most polite, kind, and friendly people I had ever talked to. I think he sensed I had never been before, and made sure I understood all the different hookah flavors and all their drink specials. I found it impressive that he came to me; even though you were suppose to go to the front to order. I decided to try the melon along with a tropical tea. I am not much of a smoker, but I will have to admit, this hookah was quite tasty.

Halfway into my hookah a small group of Moroccan men jumped up and formed a circle in the middle of the floor. I wasn’t sure what was going on; this obviously wasn’t an actual dance floor. They were dancing around in their own world, having a great time. I quickly realized this was a dance in their culture; they all knew the steps by heart. As I glanced around, I saw a mix of faces. There was a mixture of people from white and black to Asian and Hispanic. Of course there were numerous amounts of Moroccan and Egyptian customers, but they were not grouped together. Some were sitting in corners, others were dancing, and the rest were near me playing a game of cards. I found myself laughing while watching their game. They were speaking Arabic, and I couldn’t help but notice the sarcasm and humor they were expressing. A few caught me watching the dance and insisted on me joining. I timidly sat back and replied, “Oh, no thank you!”

Clapping and cheering suddenly erupted in the room as the belly dancer entered from the back door. Everyone fixated their eyes on this glamorous, graceful woman. She was dressed in what I assumed to be traditional Moroccan attire – a stunning mixture of colors, beads, and scarves decorating her body. It was amazing to see how her body just flowed with the beats of the music. She was focused yet kept the crowd engaged in the dance. A few men placed dollar bills in her skirt, but there was no sexual innuendo like at strip clubs.

By the end of the night, I became much more comfortable. Although I didn’t know anyone there, I had conversations with six people, most of which were regulars at the café. I had never interacted with Moroccan or Arabic people before. I learned how polite, genuine, friendly, and fun they are. The place was laid back and welcoming place. You don’t have to smoke a hookah to sit and enjoy the music, people, and television (which was displayed with Arabic closed captioning). I will be going back, and next time I might even join in on a dance.