A Moroccan Sedar

So I was really excited to get to go to my first Sedar since I came to college. Of course I found it easier to find someone to have it with in Morocco than in Boston. So my really religious friend found this family that we could have Sedar with, so I went with her, her boyfriend, and two other girls to synagogue for prayer before we met up with this family. There we meet the son of the family. His name is Avi and he is a nice looking 18 year old who is just finishing up his French Baccalaureate. He speaks a little English, but his first language is French. I think that his parents first language may have been Dareeja (or in any case they know it a lot better than their son, who had to learn it in school). We walk to his apartment building and enter. In many ways it is like a moroccan house, with the main room with lots of couches. However, there is a high table there with chairs for all of us. We start the Sedar, which is all in Hebrew, with the tradition of putting the plate with all the special passover food over people's heads and saying the prayer for wanting to be in Israel next year. It is a fast Sedar, since it's just rushing through the Hebrew words that all those who know Hebrew say. I'm a little bored, but I look at the pictures and try to keep to the right pages. I think I want to learn how to read Hebrew, it bothers me that it's so close to Arabic but I can't figure it out. I'm sure it won't be that hard to learn. After we do the prayers (the only time that is really exciting is the plagues where they pour water and wine together to make the water turn into blood and the dayenu part where at least I remember that we're talking about how it would have been enough if God had only given the Torah) and eat the specific food (I've never seen the haroshet literally be squished up apples in wine), we commence to eating. The food is quite Moroccan in its way. First we have salads of different sorts, including an amazing one made of carrots, parsley, oil, lemon, salt, and pepper. Then we have a fish dish, and then a fava bean soup. It's all very good. During the meal, we Americans mostly talk between ourselves, but I try to find out a bit more about Avi. He wants to go to college in France and study business and eventually leave Morocco unless there is an especially good opportunity in Morocco. Talking to him is funny, since he doesn't speak that good english but he doesn't really speak Arabic either, but it can be easier to speak arabic to him. Also, his first language is French, which I mostly understand... but we mostly stick to English. The mother is nice, if quiet, and it took a long time for me to figure out that she even knows how to read Hebrew since she leaves it up to the men (I asked... women don't get bat mitzvahs in Morocco). After we eat and get fruit for dessert, we do the after dinner prayer (for I think the first time in my life) by speeding through the Hebrew even faster than before and with less time for singing parts. After that, Avi drives us home and then we go the next day, for almost the same thing except meatballs, peas, and artichoke instead of fish. I enjoyed it, although Passover isn't the same if you don't understand the story that is being told...