Now I get to learn about the complexities of intenational marriage and of course I fell in love with a woman who lives in one of the most bureaucratic but least efficient counties in the world. You should see the list of documents we have to provide and it involves multiple trips all over the country to all the different agencies and at each one if you leave at all then nothing happens and you end up having to come back again and again. I am trying to figure out how to get us out of Morocco, get a recognized marriage and then come back for a Moroccan ceremony. It’s hard though because even getting her a visa to somewhere else is difficult and requires a lot of energy and patience. Plus, she is stubbornly refusing to believe that it is possible to get married anywhere else. She is stubborn as anything and I think it is good for me, but still frustrating.
As for accomplishing anything in Morocco, and I mean anything, it is ten times harder than the Philippines. If you want your shoes repaired you have to sit and harrangue the cobbler for the entire time and if you leave, he will stat ( but never complete) something else. The entire country is filled with projects that are only 3/4 done and Moroccans seem to take a special delight in dragging one away before anything is done. The exception is eating, which is fairly constant and used to stop everything from road work to showering to laundry. Prayer is even hard to make happen for Moroccans since it involves ablution, laying down the prayer rug or going to the mesjid, and actually praying.
It’s funny to be in a country where there are so many available hands, so much skill in craft, and so much that is just falling apart in a state of perpetual incompleteness. My biggest challenge is learning to say no and get it across since everyone here seems unable to accept no for an answer unless you become downright rude about it. It’ hard for me as a polite American foreigner to be so rude, but essential. Even to write this, I had to wake early, shower, write, and send the scary arab clowns to an internet cafe or it would never have happened or would have taken 16 hours and 37 refusals of mint tea, bread, cake, invitations to play football, and offers to wash my clothes. All the invitations and hospitality are sincere and appreciated and that makes it harder to say no, hence my need to escape from the house and wander about Sefrou on my own from time to time.
Life is good though and we are both learning and adjusting. I fear the scary arab clowns will come back soon. Trust me they are in charge not me, they are only trying to confuse you, but they wll tell you it is me trying to confuse you. As for me, I get the tiger and the lady and that is the way it should be.