From Wllfti to Wllfna

When I arrived in my site, strangers and acquaintances greeted me with the question, "Wesh wllfti?" Even after two months of intensive language training, I never recognized this verb before. It means something along the lines of, "Have you adjusted to life here?". Once I started hearing this question, I kept hearing it all through my almost 2 years of service. Just last week, a friend of a friend asked me this when I visited her site.

Now that I'm back in Btown, everyone seems anxious about my departure date. Instead of asking if I've gotten accustomed to life in Btown, people are telling me that they've gotten accustomed to me. The first time I heard my wedding planner friend tell me, "wllfnak," I was confused by the new verb conjugation. Hearing people tell me this gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. While I'm looking forward to finally coming home and spending some time in America (ok, eating in America), I tear up thinking about saying "see you later, inshallah" to my community. Just today, three girls kissed me on the mouth (...) and two kids starting crying when we talked about me leaving Morocco next month. I wish time would slow down a bit.

That being said, I'm proud of my two years here. This afternoon, my "students" begged for an English test today that was scheduled for next week. While weaving a blanket together, a mom and I talked in depth about the pros and cons of the possibility of her daughter working in Italy/America. Fatiha, my leading lady artisan, wanted to discuss project planning/grant applications and the "big picture" with her work. Two years ago, I wouldn't have imagined she'd develop into such a budding entrepreneur. I tip my hat off to her and people like her for expanding my mind's potential.

Better keep this short and log off. There's internet in America, but Btown is only here.

(I lied. Semi-related, semi-unrelated, I'm proud to have gotten to know these 16 business development volunteers as well. There won't be another BD program, as PC is focusing only on youth development volunteers. Cheers to us.)

Beanu Beanik

One of my favorite-sounding phrases in Darija is pronounced “bean-u-bean-ik.” It means “between him and you,” or if you want to get technical, “between him/it and between you.”

I often hear this phrase when people in my community choose not to get involved in someone else's affairs. Having gotten to know every neighborhood in my 50,000-person town, I have to walk quite a bit. One hour of daily walking, check! So, I keep myself entertained by having conversations in my head with myself. One recurring debate is whether or not this beanu beanik mentality is for the better or worse.

Stereotypes aside, my Morocco is much more passive than my America. People tend to watch more than they act: whether it’s regarding a father beating on his misbehaved toddler, a foreigner yelling at the man who just grabbed her butt, or witnessing a thief exit his/her own crime scene. This country’s candid camera tv shows are extra-entertaining because the pranksters can pull off even more than I'd expect on the unsuspecting passerby-er. *That being said, people here (more so than Americans) in general believe Allah has a greater influence in this world.

The lack of a third party involvement leads to less town gossip/meddling and more direct communication. This can be a good thing for me (the me not getting my butt touched). If another Moroccan were to get involved in my affairs with someone else, I suppose we would say “beani beanu beanik” (between me, him, and you). However, this phrase sounds too much like a magician’s incantation for my ears’ liking.

Suppress your excitement and stay tuned for my upcoming post on favorite-sounding phrases in Tashelheit…inshallah.