Recounted in vivid strokes, this travel essay describes a journey to the village of Chefchauen, nestled in the folds of the Riff mountains in North Morocco. Accompanied by my daughter I revisit the picturesque home of my adopted family to partake in a Berber marriage ceremony. Intrigued by the traditional rituals and caught by conflicting feelings for a place I once lost my heart to, I strive to give an account that is both rich in personal and objective observations of a way of life that is marked by primitive conditions and fierce pride.
