Hennahennahenna

Last night I got henna done on my hands and feet-it looks super cool and smells like sunless tanner. Or rather, sunless tanner smells like henna. I think most people in the village knew that I wanted henna because every time I saw it on someone’s hands or saw it being done I would ooh and aah and generally make a fool of myself. The other day my host-sister told me that she would do it if I bought the henna and lemon necessary for the process. Apparently all women in the village know how to do it. Getting the supplies cost 100 ougeya, which is about 40 cents. It ended up being a very social affair: by the time my sister started on my foot about 10 women had shown up to offer advice and start on my hands. It turns out that although all women know how to do henna, they don’t all know how to do it well, which is pretty obvious as I now compare my four extremities. Overall I really like how it looks, though. On my left hand is my Mauritanian name in Arabic.

A cultural note: although women do henna just for fun, it is especially important for marriage. Most Mauritanian wedding pictures are extremely creepy photos of the bride with henna on her hands and the groom standing behind her holding up her hands. The henna party proved to be the perfect forum for more of the hilarious marriage talk that always goes on here, a good time for me to explain that I planned to study and work before I got married, and, as always, a good opportunity for people here to laugh in my face.