I have lived in a foreign country for one month. For one month I have given up the luxury of feeling comfortable physically and mentally. It has been roughly 30 days since I could communicate with ease, express myself confidently or understand what someone else is trying to say to me. Culture shock comes in waves, my international school explained to me and my cohort of new teachers on one of the first few days. This is the story of my experience living in Casablanca, Morocco for the first month.
They told me that personal space would be different. They warned me that sometimes the loss of independence could be overwhelming. They were right when they said that men would stare at me on the street. They, being my new international school here, have really done their best to prepare me for the realities of living in a foreign nation. What they failed to mentioned though, was how it begins to weigh on you, how each stare from every man and strange utterance towards you starts to seep in and get under your skin, itchy and crawling through your blood. When all you want to do is buy groceries but you get laughed at and money thrown at you because you can’t give them exact change. When you try your new french phrases at a restaurant and the waiter laughs at you and says, “I can speak English.” They forget to mention how that starts to take a toll on your emotional state of being.
I try to stay focused on being grateful for the opportunities here, and how lucky I am to be here in the first place. I tell myself that I am becoming a stronger person for being here and that it will be worth it. Practically chanting this message to myself in my head, I try to make myself believe that it will get easier.
It is a lot harder than I ever could have expected, in ways I never could have predicted. Recently, I was so done with the intense stares that when some random man started talking to me, “madam, madam!” so, naturally, in response I blew bubbles at him the way a baby learns to talk. Yes, in lieu of any language capable of telling everyone exactly how I felt, I resorted to making the sounds of a horse when they are tired or angry, however you choose to look at it. How absolutely ridiculous.
Now, you might be thinking “well morocco is a conservative country you should be dressing appropriately.” To which I respond, yes, in fact whenever I leave the bubble of my apartment I indeed am covered from wrist to ankle. Sometimes I do wear a skirt that has a slit along the side which has really rocked the world around me but holy guacamole, it’s actually quite hot here you know. Hate to scandalize the neighborhood with the occasional side view of my lower calf but there you have it folks, my most extreme outfit doesn’t even show my knees.
Other women have not described the same intense feelings as I have and some have even expressed jealousy over the amount of attention I receive. This is ironically hilarious and sad at the same time. For me, I wish I could just curl up and be invisible. I dream about being home, capable to express myself and to be understood. I wonder if it really will ever get easier or if it really is worth it.
Before I left, my sister had me promise her (and myself) that if I ever felt unsafe I would come home. Truth be told, I don’t feel unsafe, I just haven’t felt comfortable in days, weeks now, approximately one month. There are other cultural elements unique to Casablanca that I haven’t begun to describe; the sheer amount of litter and pollution everywhere that makes me shower everyday, the suicidal method of crossing the street, the entitlement of taxi drivers and the concept that time is not real therefore things will be done, well whenever. I am tired now, I am exhausted, and I once promised myself I would not push myself past my limits again.
“It’s okay to feel all the feels” is how my sister put it. It is a choice to breathe through the hard emotions and to learn to let them go. Or rather, to let them flow. To let them flow like water on the sand. I have friends that can relate to these feelings and systems of support to rely on.There are adventures waiting to be had here, I just hope I have the courage to enjoy them.
Woods Wanders the World 