Ranting and Raving

I rant and rave a lot in Morocco. Mostly I rant against the brick wall I run into as I am immersed in yet another clash of cultures! Often – well, always, really -- the brick wall is something within myself that is difficult to face. And the mental, emotional, and physical push & pull of the ways of my own culture and those of this culture twist me around until I realize I don’t know what to think anymore! So I rant. And I rave. And eventually, I kind of sort things out and calm down.

Lately I have been ranting about giving. Seems I am always being asked to give. And the brick wall here was the realization that I don’t like being asked to give. I want to give when I feel like it. Ugh. That doesn’t sound – or feel – very good. And giving is so much a part of the culture here.

Now I have always embraced the notion that generosity is a highly worthy characteristic and a generous spirit should be cultivated. But the funny thing is, I’ve never truly practiced being generous because I’ve always given when it was comfortable for me to do so. That’s generosity with strings attached so it isn’t really generosity. So I quickly review my lifelong giving habits and I find them wanting.

Ok, I ask myself, what amount of giving can you live with? I am a woman with limited means, and I really don’t have much extra money to give to others. And what little extra money I do come by, I put into the house. I do try to be generous with others when I get a bonus or a gift of money. You know, ‘extra money’ that I feel comfortable parting with. But I now realize that that doesn’t count. Not really. Not in the true sense of the word.

But darn it, the need here seems never ending. People come right up and ask for all kinds of things many times a day! They ask for money, pens, jeans, English lessons, copywriting, the food you are eating … you name it. They ask for a loan, they want to be seen talking to you, they want, this, that and the other thing. Whew! Sometimes it’s exhausting running this gauntlet of extended hands and fair weather friends.

Being confronted with so many requests for help is a new experience for me. I realize I have been pretty sheltered from poverty during my life. Seeing it full-on is unsettling and brings on lots of security issues. So I think about money a lot.

But then again, I’m sure the basic problem lies with me. Maybe I just can’t find the mindset that will free me from this assault of empathy mixed with contemptuous anger and guilt over the realization that I am feeding that anger. Can a balance be found in that mélange of emotions? And yet I feel that if I don’t establish some sort of boundary, I’ll dissolve into the mass need.

‘Trust in Allah’, I am told. And I think about this. And I come away with the resolve to take the wisdom of all the religions I’ve become acquainted with; a wisdom which encourages me to yield to a higher power. And I do believe in the existence of a higher power and I know I am not in control. So I try to let go.

But my head won’t leave me alone and I plan and I analyze and I realize I am pretending to be in control. But even though I hold my plans lightly, I still want to prepare and accumulate. I seem to be hardwired that way.

So I seek a place in the middle.

Everyday I try to regain my balance. And when I don’t do well, I rant. And I rave.