Aimee recently commented that she was sorry to have missed my earlier posts (perhaps when I was still over at Blogspot), but believe me when I tell all of you that they were entirely forgettable. It consisted of me mooning over Morocco and my new Moroccan prince, who both turned out to be less than I thought but more than I imagined. Or something like that.
After all that schmaltz, I dove right into the five stages of culture shock.
The honeymoon, or tourist, stage
Me to self - “Oh, don’t I look cute in a head scarf, it makes my eyes stand out, eh?”
The irritation-to-anger stage
Me to husband - “Why are your friends always around? Can’t we have a single date to ourselves?”
The rejection/regression stage
Me to husband - “If you don’t buy me Pringles at the shop in town, I’ll starve. I hate tajine, hate it, hate it, hate it! And if you don’t replace the gas bottle in the heater, I’ll make sure you suffer.”
The integration/assimilation stage
Talking to husband on my mobile - “I’m at your father’s house, honey. Yes, they invited me for lunch. Pick me up when you come to town this afternoon.”
The reverse, or reentry, stage
Talking to husband on my mobile from Essaouria - “Honey, I’ll probably stay another couple of days here by the ocean - yes, I know which bus to take to Marrakech. [pause] Yes, I have enough money. [pause] Yes, I’m sorry you have to work, next time we’ll go together. [pause] What’s that? You won’t invite any of your minions, just the two of us? [pause] Ok, deal.” Interrupted by passer-by - “No, I’m not Muslim. The head scarf is to protect my hair from being turned into a red frizzy mess by the sun and wind. Now go away, will you. Seer!” Back to husband - “Gotta run, the vultures are starting to circle. N’moot alik, ohaibuk, ciao!“
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January 25th, 2007 at 6:03 am
Oh, that’s so familiar! I think I’m in stage 4, having finally surpassed 3 (man, right down to the Butagaz wars).
(We say tan moot alik…is that pronunciation difference or just transliteration?)
January 25th, 2007 at 10:19 am
L - thanks for the rundown. I was cracking up over coffee. Maybe now I can stay awake while reading far less interesting things.
January 25th, 2007 at 10:44 am
Jill - Here’s wishing you a speedy transition to Stage 5…though I have been known to sink back into Stage 3 at times, ha ha. I’ll bet that “n’moot” vs. “tan moot” is just another example of “swallowing” parts of words, which darija seems to be famous for!
Aimee - Glad I could provide a little humor…it’s almost Friday, woo!
January 25th, 2007 at 5:39 pm
You should have a glossary for all us poor mono-linguals.
I’d say you look great in the head scarf all the same;-)
January 25th, 2007 at 5:44 pm
Paul - Quite right, here you go:
N’moot alik = I’m dying for you
Ohaibuk = I love you
Seer = Go!
And I do look cute in a head scarf, thanks! Must dig up a photo…
January 26th, 2007 at 11:15 am
Liosliath,
Brilliant and funny post. But what else is new?:-)
January 27th, 2007 at 10:01 pm
I know a few Americans living here in Rabat, and i think they’d all agree that this is the best description on the stages they go through during their stay in Morocco!
I can’t find anything better than Maryam said : brilliant and funny!
February 10th, 2007 at 10:53 am
Yassine ahjam is the best actor in the world…… belive me
hw is also veryyyyyyyyyyyyyy handsome
March 26th, 2007 at 3:14 pm
je tadore yassine tè lmeilleure