Covering the cauldron with mud

Had a massage this morning – bit disconcerted to find two hands still working on my leg while their owner managed to answer and talk into her mobile at the same time. I had to look around to find out if there was anyone else in the room but I think she had an ear plug. She broke off half way to thread someone's eyebrows so I leapt up with a towel round me and took some pictures.

Yusuf collected me mid afternoon to attend his family celebration in honour of their Sufi Master of Masters by making a huge feast of mutton in rice to give to neighbourhood children and all their young relatives. I watched as a borrowed cauldron was turned over and covered with mud by Yusuf's wife in order to prevent burning and damage to the metal when it was sat on some bricks over a wood fire. It will be very easy to clean and look like new in the morning she said. She had prepared lots of different spices, a huge quantity of chopped onions, peeled and smashed at least 400g of ginger, pressure cooked about 6k of mutton (goat), peeled and chopped about 300 garlic cloves and at least a hundred (it seemed when I ate later) green chillies. She had also cooked an enormous cauldron of sweet rice (saffron, sugar, cardamom and some dried fruits). Everything except the pudding rice was taken in turn and cooked together in the mud covered cauldron and stirred continuously by Yusuf or his son until the soaked rice was put in when it was allowed to simmer on its own with a lid. When it was cooked the logs were removed from the fire and charcoal put in the embers, fanned to light and then half of them were shovelled onto the cauldron cover so that the contents would be kept hot from above and below

All the family took their turn doing things and Yusuf controlled the heat by 'playing' with the logs between the bricks that had been placed to support the cauldron. I cried and cried with the smoke and cooking onions and was forced eventually to go up on the roof with 3 girls where we had long chats about school and rules and how they regarded the boys they knew at school. The family is strict but at least Yusuf and his wife had been allowed to meet before they were married. I went down the street to their friend's house – a widow with two daughters – who showed me her wedding album and we talked about arranged marriages. She had only ever seen a photo of her fiancé, never talked to him either until she was actually married, although she had met his sisters and parents. She was brought to meet him for the first time from the room in which she had to stay during the actual formal wedding ceremony. In her photos she looked so beautiful, lots of gold jewellery and stunning garment of full skirt and long shawl but she admitted she was terrified. There were some lovely tender photos of her husband tilting her chin towards him for the first look.

Lots of children turned up after 7 to partake in the feast, sitting on the mat on the floor and sharing a large plate between two. The boys all ate in one place the girls in the other – the latter explaining they liked to chat about different things! No adults were invited but while all had their fill Yusuf went off with dishes for his parents and after we had eaten I went next door to chat with Yusuf's sister while the family distributed the remaining food amongst all the neighbours. Rather exhausted now but what a privilege to be able to join in.