During a recent buying trip to Morocco I had another, long-awaited opportunity to have henna done by a real Moroccan neqasha (henna artist). In Marrakesh, visiting family, I decided to have my feet hennaed with Marrakshi designs.

The family's favorite neqasha was called and as soon as she arrived, preparations began, various people buzzing around collecting ingredients and materials. One of the young boys of the house went out for the henna powder and a lemon, an aunt heated up water, another found some garlic and orange blossom water...the neqasha set up her little tray as the ingredients arrived. She prepared both the henna paste and the lemon-sugar fixative. The henna paste was made of henna powder (of course), freshly squeezed lemon juice, hot water, sugar and orange blossom water (this last ingredient is only used for brides, and being a newlywed - sort of - an exception was made for me). What an indescribable smell! On the same scale of intensity of smell, the lemon sugar fixative included freshly crushed garlic and pepper, ingredients valued for their warming properties.

The henna paste was mixed in a bowl and then the neqasha squeezed the paste through a knee-hi stocking to filter out any lumps. This smooth paste was put into a tea glass and the neqasha, using a special henna syringe, sucked up the henna paste and got ready to begin her design. Keeping her face close to the syringe, she began by laying down long parallel lines as the basis of the design, and from there she drew triangles, filling them in with designs, ornamenting them with flourishes. She worked with incredible speed, making the design more and more complex until there was no space left to fill.

The entire process, covering each foot entirely, except for the soles, took about and hour and a half. Now the waiting began. The neqasha collected her payment, her coat and copious compliments as I sat with my feet in the air while the paste dried. It seemed to take an extraordinarily long time to dry, perhaps due to the sugar in the paste. Once it started to dry, the lemon-sugar fixative was dabbed onto the design using a piece of sheep's wool. The flowery smell of the paste was instantly transformed by the odor of the garlic. I continued to sit there as the life of a Moroccan family went on around me, uninterrupted. Every person who came into the house wished me good heath (saha! or bisowraha!) to which I responded, as custom dictates, alatik saha (to your health). This little interchange was repeated countless times throughout the rest of my trip, the only variation being that some people wanted to look more closely at the artistry of the neqasha, studying my feet carefully and admiring the skill.

I traveled to Morocco in 2000, this time specifically to expand my research on henna. I hoped to witness traditional henna-related activities, gather traditional Moroccan designs, stories, recipes etc. This I did, but more often than not Moroccan women wanted me to do henna on them. Where I could I tried to trade my henna work for their henna knowledge however anecdotal. I suppose then that it wasn't surprising that most of them asked for Indian designs. These designs are not my specialty but it was good practice.

Our first family visit in Marrakesh was inadvertently well-timed as we stumbled upon a henna party in full flower. The wife of my ex-husband's cousin had been visiting and was to travel to her husband's house the next day. It is customary to throw a henna party for the person traveling, to send her home with proof that she was well cared for during her stay. Perhaps there is a belief that the henna will protect the traveller during her voyage. I had the opportunity to grill the henna artist (neqasha) while she worked and also watch her technique. That experience primed the pump making future encounters much easier. I went back to this house a few days later to henna the women who didn't get a chance during this party.

I also had the opportunity to henna my sisters-in-law, again mostly with Indian designs. I got a manicure and pedicure in return which I thought was a very fair trade. Only married women are allowed to have their hands and feet hennaed; unmarried women can only have their hands hennaed and even then not with very complex designs. Most of the women I hennaed were single hence the relatively simple (by Moroccan standards) hand designs.