The Murky Waters of Human Relations

Over the past 10 days or so I have tried to get my thoughts together on the topic of friendship here in Morocco. I have wanted to write a blog post for some time regarding this intangible and vague topic, but every day its definition seems to change. I really want to try to capture all of the big areas of culture shock I encounter in this blog for my own point of reference, so I think it's time I have a go at this beast. I hope that my readers observe this as nothing more than a commentary and documentation of my observations regarding Moroccan human relations. I don't find one country's culture "better" than another, just very different. It is always valuable to understand opinions and practices that differ from your own.

Friendship here in Morocco is unrecognizable when compared to friendship in America. In America, friendship can be defined as meeting another person, finding them to be amusing in some positive way, and putting at least minimal effort into spending quality time with them. Really, there aren't many more requirements than that. Since that is what I have always been accustomed to, I was quite shocked when I discovered that friendship here in Morocco is a little more complicated.

My first Friday night here in Morocco I met a Moroccan man who spoke perfect Americanized English; we will call him Mohammed for the sake of this post. Mohammed was 22 like me and we were studying at the same University here in Meknes. He was funny, charming, attractive, intelligent and seemingly very nice. But for my life I could not understand how someone who was born and raised in Morocco could speak perfect American English. He even used curse words at the natural time you might hear any American college student cursing in the midst of a conversation. Naturally, I was intrigued and found myself asking him every question I could think of, trying to understand how someone who was not a native English speaker could speak English so flawlessly. Over the next few weeks, we developed what I perceived as a close friendship.

Now, as you all know, I go to the Air Force Academy. The ratio between guys and girls at my university is about 4:1, so naturally a good proportion of my friends back home are males. Being friends with guys is as natural to me as being friends with other girls. Therefore, I did not think twice about my budding friendship with Mohammed and he seemed so like any other American guy that I thought our friendship came very easily. We even discussed the massive gender gap here in Morocco, and how it seemed that mixed-gender groups were not seen walking in public together.

Once my host family found out I was spending time with a Moroccan male, they immediately began asking to meet him and I met a barrage of questions each night when I would return home. I also found it strange that Mohammed specifically refused to meet my host family, despite their desire to meet him. When I asked him why he had such a strong aversion to my host family, he would only reply with "you just wouldn't understand."

I guess looking back on this period of time and writing out all the warning signs, the conclusion to this story should have been obvious. I'm sure it is blatantly obvious to you as the reader. But when I was in the middle of this, I really did think Mohammed was different from other Moroccan 20-something males that I had met. He spoke perfect English and seemed so American in his attitude towards life, even though I knew he had never lived in America or even in Europe. We got along very well and I found him fascinating to talk to. But the end of this story is sad even in its predictability: Mohammed did not want to be my friend. He had something else in mind and viewed our interactions differently than I had. My host family had anticipated his intentions since they understood the cultural norms. And so I guess even in my dismay at his actions I have still learned a lesson in all of this: people are always going to be a product of their environments. It was naive of me to expect anything other than this. I now know that my close friendship with Mohammed was culturally inappropriate, even if it was completely acceptable by American standards. When single men and women interact, is it expected in Morocco to be either completely business-related or something that could eventually lead to marriage. I understand this now.

Even with his perfect English, Mohammed was still raised to be a Moroccan, just as I have been raised to be an American. In my upbringing, I have always seen men and women to be people all the same. We might have slightly differing body parts, but we are all just people with the same rights and concerns as other people. I don't consider gender when I make a friend. I choose my friends simply because they make my life better. We laugh at inappropriate jokes, we lean on each other when we need support and we are open with each other about what's on our minds. This is how I have been raised: that all men are created equal--and it is understood that "men" means women too. But here in Morocco, gender means quite a bit more. One of the first questions I get when interacting with Moroccan men is "are you engaged?" Which seems like a very awkward question to me, but really they are only trying to make sure they aren't dealing with someone else's "property." The question is asked out of respect, even if it is difficult for me to understand the thought process behind it.

I believe that people come into and out of our lives for a reason. Mohammed had a purpose in my life: he taught me to accept people for what they are. If we can understand the cultures of those around us we can vastly improve our relationships and interactions with other human beings. We can prevent ourselves from becoming upset for expecting something from someone that they just can't give us.

Thanks for reading.

بسلامة أصدقاء