Quirks

I'm going to spend a wee bit of time talking about some of the funny little things I've noticed about Moroccans, at least the ones of those I've observed.

First off, these people are forever cold and they dress as if they're about to be relocated to the Arctic Circle at any moment. I kid you not, these people wear multiple shirts, and by mulitple I mean like three or four, and they all have some sort of tights under their pants. They will even wear them under jeans. Even when we go out in the street, under the blazing sun in 70-degree weather, they are all in pea coats, sweaters and some are even wearing gloves. This is all going on while my children are complaining of the heat and asking for their undershirts to be taken off. You should have seen my mother-in-law's face when I took off both my children's undershirts in the middle of the street during a recent walk. She was stunned, and of course sure we'd sprout ice cickles at any moment. But, for all their worries about my children and how I dress them, they don't pressure me to mimic them and we just laugh at each other's differences... and then they put on another shirt.

Second, these people want you to eat...a lot. And don't get me wrong, I'm happy to oblige as they produce delicious and super healthy dishes at least twice a day, every day. But in between the two major meals there are at least two tea times, where we have the yummy mint tea Morocco is known for, and then we have coffee and bread as well. So I'm eating about every three hours or so. I figure this is keeping my metabolism going strong so I won't complain about the timing, but I'm telling you if I ate as much as they wanted me to- which is a mistake I made the first time I visited Morocco-then I would have a permanent case of stomach ache, which does not make for a happy girl. So, as a result, I learned very quickly how to say "Enough" and therefore I spend a lot of my time at the dinner table saying "Safi, safi. Shukran." Which translates to "Enough, enough, thank you." But again, they don't pressure me too much and I take their generosity and desire to feed me way  more than they feed themselves as a sign of their wonderful hospitality, which of course they have in abundance.

Third, they are crazy when it comes to footwear and socks. By that I mean they wear their shoes in the house but take them off when they walk on the rugs, which are in all of the rooms for eating and TV watching. As a result, you are in and out of your shoes all day and each doorway is littered with that room's inhabitants' shoes. They also freak if you run around the uncarpeted floors in your socks in case you, gasp, get your socks dirty or, double gasp, take off your socks to preserve their cleanliness and then you have cold feet. I think if I pulled that last stunt it would send my mother-in-law over the edge.

Finally, these Moroccans-who want to feed you all they have and who would give you the shirt off  your back if you were only wearing two of your own-they lock everything. Any time you want to go in your room you have to unlock the door, and then you further have to unlock the armoire or wardrobe where you keep all of your stuff. It's exasperating. I mean, they'd rather die than touch your stuff so why do I have to keep it locked up?

Alas, I could go on and on but I won't...until I notice something else, which will probably be tomorrow. No I'm joking. These Moroccans are welcoming, funny and would wait on me hand and foot if I let them so I'll commence with the picking apart of their habits. But really, I couldn't help it.