Morocco Time

One of the top search phrases for my blog is “What’s it like to live in Morocco?” People, don’t ask me. In fact, don’t ask any Westerner who lives there. We’re all going to have different experiences, and therefore wildly different opinions. I was reminded of this by Cat In Rabat‘s latest post, about her experiences with cars vs. pedestrians in Rabat. You see, when someone asks me, “Are the drivers in Morocco dangerous?” I say not really, based on living in Rabat and Tinerhir, but Cat feels exactly opposite. She has wild encounters with cars trying to run her down at crosswalks, coming up on the curb, and generally being absolutely malicious. I, on the other hand, never noticed this at all. I’ve been trying to figure out the reason, and I came up with some possibilities.

1. I’m constantly daydreaming, so I may have been in mortal peril and not even known it. People will come up to me and say, “What’s the matter with you? I saw you yesterday on X Street, and yelled your name about fifty times, and you ignored me! You even looked right at me and didn’t seem to recognize me! Are you upset about something?” Well, no…I was probably thinking about Schrödinger’s Cat, or something equally weird, and wasn’t even paying attention.

2. I’m not from a big city, but my father tells me that when he was growing up in Pennsylvania, they always said the drivers from Ohio were the worst. Perhaps we’re a whole state of menacing SUVs and minivans, and I’m just so used to it that the Moroccan drivers make me feel at home!

3. I’ve been hit by a car once…albeit a slow-moving one that was pulling into a parking spot, but it still knocked me down to the ground pretty hard. (not in Morocco, this was back in high school) I guess I have a healthy respect for a 2000 lb moving hunk of metal, but also a certain animosity…I often bang or kick on cars that get too close (a la “I’m walkin’ here!“), and as I mentioned to Cat, she’s rather cute and petite, while hitting me would be akin to a head-on with a Canadian moose.