It’s taken me some time to find my footing here is Fes. When I first arrived, I played the role of student. I was studying Arabic and I must admit I was a terrible student. That was difficult for me because I love learning and I am usually successful at my studies. And I had just graduated from my ESL course at the top of my class! But this time, I was the worst student in the class. So my knee jerk reaction was to dropout of my course. Within a few weeks of dropping out, I became a teacher. Now I was on firmer ground. I’ve taught before and even though it was my first experience teaching English as a second language, I was much more comfortable.
Next, I became a wife for the first time in my life. Once again, I was in unfamiliar territory. It was strange, exciting and unsettling. Time and time again, when seemingly insurmountable difficulties arose, I tried to ‘dropout’ but was met with strong resistance each time. So I stuck it out and it has not been without great struggles and hard-learned lessons. But the lessons have been important. I found myself behaving in a way I thought I was supposed to behave rather than being who I truly am. Of course the results were unsatisfactory. But more and more I am reconnecting with who I am and the adjustment is making my life more enjoyable.
An overlay to all these experiences is being an expat. I’ve never lived in a foreign country before. Here I am a ‘gowree-ah’ (a stranger/Westerner). Sometimes Moroccan’s find me interesting and exotic; sometimes they think I can provide a golden opportunity for their own advancement, and sometimes they respond to me with derision, envy and resentment. It runs the gamut.
My fellow expats are an interesting lot. At first, I did little to cultivate relationships with other expats. Perhaps it was because of my marriage. I was trying to fit in with Moroccans but after many unsuccessful attempts to adapt to the lifestyle of my husband, I have abandoned my attempts to reinvent myself. I didn’t really cotton to the heavily communal lifestyle. I couldn’t relate to the traditional roles of the women. And I no longer had the stamina to pull all-nighters with my husband at wedding fests or gnouah and milhoon music gatherings. So after months and months of trying to deny my ‘other-ness’, I have decided to embrace it instead. The result has been reconnecting with my strengths and experience as well as the flowering and deepening of friendships with my fellow ex-pats … all of whom have interesting and wacky aspects to them that I really admire and enjoy.
Another change in how I am perceived has to do with my economic situation. I have always held a firm place in the middle-class. And living in Marin County, California -- one of the wealthier and more privileged places in America where prices climbed into the stratosphere during my 30 years there --I found myself slipping into the lower middle-class. But here in Fes I am perceived as being rather wealthy. Little do they know! But perception and reality are often at odds and in the Medina particularly, a lot of the locals think I hold a strong economic position. Aywah! The result is I have to constantly be wary of prices I am quoted … for everything from a kilo of strawberries to the price of cement and labor. Additionally, I have to be judicious with my offers of help because fulfilling all the requests I get would leave me penniless and with no time to make a living of my own. And finally, I try to stay aware of the unique perspective I have; economically-speaking, I am a ‘have-not’ in the U.S. – I have no real estate holdings, no car, a miniscule ‘portfolio’ and no income. While here in Morocco I have more than most. I have experienced both perspectives and I am working on recognizing my own envies with the goal of eliminating them altogether. How much more satisfying and energizing it has been to feel joy for another’s good fortunes and blessings rather than being plagued by envy.
I am back to dancing. Something I love and something I had abandoned when I arrived here because it is thought to have a limited place in a woman’s life. Here, a woman dances at wedding fests and at women-only gatherings. A ‘respectable’ woman doesn’t dance in public. But I am not a respectable Moroccan woman. I am a respectable American who loves to dance and takes great joy in this form of expression. So I am now the weekly teacher of belly dance at Café Clock. I also give private lessons. Yesterday, I held a special workshop for 9 young women from the American University in Paris. It’s extra income for me and it feeds my spirit.
Additionally, I host overnight guests in my house. The ground floor is quite comfortable now and I no longer feel like I am camping out all the time. When some tourists are referred to me by mutual acquaintances and the conditions are right (i.e., no workmen in the house and there are plenty of clean linens available) I open my house to these travelers. I’ve had people from Spain, Italy, New Zealand, England and Germany stay with me. I like sharing my space with people who appreciate my style. And I like it when they leave, too.
So now I am a teacher, a wife, a dancer, a quasi-business owner, and a strange character in society. I guess you could say I have fully embraced my “gowhree-ah-ness”. And with the exception of being a wife, I have been played all of these roles before. The main difference is my audience has changed. Now I am playing a lead role in an off, off-Broadway production. And like any good actress, I draw upon my previous experiences to bring authenticity to my character. And that’s something I have always known but seemed to have forgotten these past two years. Be authentic. Be true to yourself. Even in the midst of significant change, never forget who you really are.
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