Tut tut! Looks like rain!

Typed up 23 December

Current zippy Christmas song: Ella Fitzgerald’s take on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer

I think the Darija word for “wet” is perfect. Fzg. It’s an accidental onomatopoeia. Fzg fzg fzg as my boots sludge through the mud. And there’s always mud. I think the name of the town I live in may translate to “I-turn-into-a-sinking-pool-of-mud-come-winter.”

What’s funny is how I look around and realize I am far from the only person having issues with the mud and fzg. You’d think that a person who has lived in this town his whole life would have some strategies or something for going on about his daily business, rain or shine. So not the case. I am quickly learning that Moroccans in my town are basically Gremlins that you can feed after midnight. Don’t get them wet.

When it rains here, everything comes to a stop. People stand around under awnings, no one shows up to work, stores don’t open, kids stay home from school. It’s the rainy day behavior I so desperately wanted in the States, and yet here I find it excruciating.

And I know what my problem is, too. When there’s something obstructing my path, like rain or being sick, I deal with it by working around it, or completely ignoring it if possible. I pretend I’m not coughing uncontrollably or plan around rain by giving myself more time to get places, wearing my hair up, etc. However, this isn’t really the way Moroccans deal with similar issues and that’s where I run into trouble. In Morocco, if it’s raining, you let the rain win. If you have a cold, the cold wins. Stay home. Wait it out. There’s nothing you can do about it.

Maybe after two years I’ll be able to sit back and accept that there are things I just can’t do anything about.