My Marrakesh

Marrakesh: and a tale of Peacock Pavilions tribal chic

What will you do now? She wondered.

What do you mean? I replied.

I mean, what will you do now that Peacock Pavilions is all done? Now that it's all decorated? She asked.

Oh, it's never done, I said.  No, no never done.  

 Egyptian bowls, one with a vintage snake surround on the bottom and the other 2 filled with African fish vertebrae.  Also a little shooting star zellij tile piece.  In the background roses in the fountain that we built ourselves.  

Moroccan painted ink pot, next to an antique Tibetan altar table.

Moroccan green and white bowl, vintage Indian round box, bejeweled brush bought in the souk.

Antique Filipino nina, topped by a vintage Peruvian halo.  Next to it, part of a huge old bronze Indian urli.

Vintage hand embroidered skull caps bought in Kabul in an old wooden Jewish couscous platter.  Couch covered in a vintage Moroccan blanket.  Cushions that I pieced together from African blankets, German velvet and snippets of old saris.  A vintage Indian yoga sculpture in the background.

Vintage African sculpture bought in Ghana, wearing old motorcycle goggles purchased in Cairo's Khan el Khalili. and antique Malian glass beads. 

Golden Indian peacock mirror.  Vintage Egyptian and Ethiopian processional crosses bought in Cairo and Addis Ababa.

Antique Moroccan jade pottery collection.  One piece filled with peacock feathers, shed from our very own peacocks at Peacock Pavilions.

PS I'm in Egypt, right now.

PPS My publisher just told me that they are going back to press for another printing of my Moroccan design book, Marrakesh by Design!  So excited.  Do you have a copy yet?  What did you think?

Cairo: and a tale of the man with {maybe} two or three wives, Part 5

(This is a continuation of the tale:  Cairo: and a tale of a man with {maybe} 2 or 3 wives.  If you haven't already, read Part 1 of the tale here, Part 2 here , Part 3 here, and Part 4 here.)

I was in Cairo, and we were driving, of course, when Ahmed said, Egyptian General Sissi is just like my dead brother.

How so? I asked.

General Sissi’s a sweet talker, Ahmed replied. Strong but a sweet talker. Egyptian women love General Sissi. It was the same way with my brother. You should have seen the way his three wives loved him, all at the same time. He had a way with them.

Really? I asked. Like what?

A smile crossed Ahmed's face and his voice changed when he imitated his brother’s baritone. He explained, This is how it went.  When wife #1 walked in, my brother would say, “Darling! Come sit here, right here, yes, right next to me -- not a centimeter away or I couldn't bear it!” Ahmed's hand tapped the steering wheel for emphasis.

Ahmed continued, Then five minutes later when wife #2 walked in my brother would practically shout “My beauty! I am such a lucky man! Such a very very lucky man!” and then he'd kiss her hand. 

I laughed.

Ahmed went on. Of course when wife #3 walked in, five minutes after that, my brother would say, “Oh my love! That lunch you made…..it was so tasty! I doubt even in heaven lunch is more tasty! Every man is jealous of me!”

Looking at Ahmed's belly, I couldn’t help myself from saying, Well, I think you share your dead brother’s opinion about wife #3, Fouzia. I know how you like her cooking.

Yes, Ahmed said.  In fact, I’m heading down to Ismaliya to check on Fouzia this weekend.  I need to check on all my dead brother's wives, of course -- it's my duty.  So anyway, Fouzia has been calling me every day to tell me what her plans are for Saturday lunch. Did I tell you that she raises chickens? Chickens, chickens, everywhere! Fouzia’s planning on taking one and stuffing it with rice, just for me! Ahmed swallowed hard in anticipation.

I see, I said.  Smiling I added, And will you tell Fouzia that you doubt that even in heaven lunch is so tasty?

Ahmed laughed.  Well, you know, maybe I learned a thing or two from my dead brother.  Then he added,  Now if only I were as handsome as General Sissi.