Snorkel Man

When I say that no part of my life here in Morocco has been normal, I mean it. And I love it (except the strange men).

Today, Mira and I were just sitting by the marina after a good day spent doing various things (braving the crowds of the medina in a [failed] attempt to find a pencil holder, Darija class, art club at the university, etc.) and I saw some frantic splashing about. My only thought was, « wow, that’s one big fish, » but then it started to « flop » towards us, and I realized (later than I’d like to admit) that it was not a fish, but in fact, a human being swimming. At night. In the filthy marina. With a snorkel, wetsuit, and fins. (I mention these things because Mira made a comment about how all these factors made the situation quite weird, but I said I didn’t think it was weird and would probably do the same if I could... I mean come on... why not?)

Anyways, the man flopped (swam) on by, did his thing, and we got distracted by the rats scurrying about the rocks so we got up and moved to a bench nearby. Moments later, the man got out and started to walk past us, and Mira said, « I really hope the scuba man doesn’t harass us. » He continued walking without a word, and then when he was about 30 feet away, turned around and beelined towards us. Great.

The first thing he said was, « It’s been a while since I heard real English. » This comment did not make us warm up to him. I have had somebody yell, « Hey baby! Teach me English and I’ll do whatever you want. » The desire to learn English does not make any strange man’s communication with me welcome or comfortable.

Anyways, we were extremely cold to him, not answering his questions, avoiding eye contact, ready to run away at any moment. And he almost left, but then he asked if we were from Amideast, our language school. We were shocked and said yes, and then he said that he used to be friends with some kids there last year. I recognized their names, and suddenly he was in our good graces.

And let me tell you, the adventure didn’t end there.

He proceeded to tell us about how he swims in the river every two days, and how all the boatmen call him Fish. He works at the restaurant that we went to once, and said that he will give us a discount if we go in the next couple days because he is moving to Spain, spontaneously, on Wednesday. Crazy. He said that he went to school to be an architect, became a salesman at Samsung, and then decided to be a chef. Why? Because he likes cooking, and when his appendix burst 5 years ago, he was in the hospital for a month, dying, and thought about he never really lived. Deep shit from a stranger, and yet inspiring. He said that he became a chef, decided to do rescue scuba in Rabat (do NOT scuba dive in Rabat, there are no credible scuba shops and people die all the time apparently), and is super into health foods.

He also does intermittent fasting (I think it’s called this? Basically he can only eat within a 4-hour block every day, which I take as a sign that the food he makes at the restaurant isn’t very good because he can’t taste-test it...). He was super quirky, and after talking for 30+ minutes (he was not even a little creepy towards us, HAMDULLAH), we parted and Mira goes, « you two have the same weird crazy vibe. » Why thank you, my dear Mirkat.

Anyways, my life is anything but boring here.

Also, on a sadder note, the other American girls and I have come to embrace our hatred of males in this country. There are approximately 4 that we like and trust completely, which is super unfortunate. It seems closeminded to say such a thing, and like outright prejudice, but at this point, we are just behaving and thinking based on our experiences here thus far.

I used to be much more openminded (or just hopeful that not all males I talk to have ulterior motives [like 35-year-old married men] or are extremely rude) but being a clearly non-Moroccan young woman in an Arab country has hardened me. Perhaps for the better, perhaps for the worse. But, unless you, my dear friends and family, have also been followed, harassed, catcalled, and threatened by strange men to the extent and in the ways that we have, I cannot expect you to understand. However, I would like to note, after all of that negativity, that I am happy here. I walk the streets alone, I explore, meet people, constantly try new things, use my Darija, and live my life. After all, if my appendix ever bursts, I don’t want to be laying in the hospital, sad that I was simply enduring live when I could be experiencing it. I just do so cautiously. Not everyone is evil, I know that, but I’m safer if I act like that’s true, and I love Rabat with all my heart, despite this (necessary) mindset.

P.S. Excuse the weird « «  dialogue marks... I have a French keyboard on my phone and the French are a quirky people, what with their special markings