First Imressions from Third World Paradise

WARNING: Rambling ahead.

So I've been in Agadir for more than 2 weeks now. I intended to record a little more in the way of details along the way. For my memory, but also for those of you who have never been here and have no clue how I'm living. So, now I'm reduced to thinking back over the time... trying to remember what has struck me. First, I think it was the dichotomy between modernity and simplicity. The people here seem to have a desire for finer things... gadgets and luxuries. However, they don't have the money for it, on the whole. The cost of living is very inexpensive because the wage (not much) that I'm making as a teacher in the newly formed American School of Agadir is serious wealth as compared to what the average Moroccan makes.

I assume a mechanic makes a decent living here... most of the cars on the road are held together by about half of the original bolts and welds. If they had duct tape here, it would work about as well. And by my count, about 1 in 5 of the cars on the road is a taxi. So, I've had my fair share of inspecting them from the inside.

The driving habits amuse me. There are, in most places, clearly painted lines along the road. Clearly painted to indicate clearly defined lanes. For no reason. Whether it be a mule cart, a taxi, a motorbike, or a private car... it drives straight down the middle. There is much passing, honking, and making two (or three) lanes out of one lane. There are a few proper stoplights, but mostly the locals just know instintively which roads at which intersections have the right of way. Then, of course, you have the roundabouts. Fuuuuuun. Every trip is my own rollercoaster ride without the line at Six Flags.

I must get serious about learning French, as living in a land where signage is in one language I don't understand (French) and one I can't read to begin with (Arabic) is a lot more diabling than I expected. I am fortunate to have the built in support system that I do... I don't have to feel my way alone. Denise knows enough Berber already to do some stilted bargaining in the souk. Her boyfriend Lahcen and his friends are happy to help us with running errands, learning languages, whatever we need. They do get a bit protective though, and it's fun to venture out without them. Even our boss, the director of the school that houses the American School (Moulay Said) has said to me that he is happy to help me in whatever I need, that here he is my brother and my friend as well. It's in his best interest to keep his teachers content, so he's more than happy to oblige our every request. Sometimes it takes a bit of sign language fumbling to communicate said request to his understanding, but we make do.

It's now starting to warm up a bit, but due to all of the rain when I first arrived, it was COLD. Outside in the sunlight it has been quite nice. At night it gets significantly cooler, and inside at almost any time of the day was freezing. I suppose due to all of the concrete, tile, and glass used in the makeup of our apartment. When it finally dawned on me to ask Moulay Said to get a heater for us at home, he got us three. And almost immediately the weather warmed. Ah well, the school will have them for the next winter, because the classroom was freezing as well.

The classroom... we have 8 students, between 2 and 6. This is the first year for the school, and they have had a continually revolving door of teachers. I am the 4th face they've known as a teacher, plus 3 different French teachers that come on in Wednesdays. The kids are of several different Nationalities: Norwegian, Hungarian, Dutch, Moroccan... Most of them are fluent in French as well as their native language, so the kids usually speak to each other in French. It's amazing how quickly they've picked up on English. They can speak well enough to convey their questions and needs, and they can understand even more.

The kids seem to have accepted me pretty well, especially considering the fact that I'm one of many to them. I suppose I feel accepted by Morocco on the whole. The people here are warm and friendly. Everyone who I have spoken to has asked how I am finding Morocco, whether I like Agadir. I do feel like I stick out like a sore thumb though. I suppose it's a combination... I don't cover my head, I dress plainly like a Westerner, I walk around speaking English (with a couple of Berber words thrown in to show off when I can). A white woman here is stared at. Blatantly. Persistently.

Did I mention that I have already been offered many many camels for my hand in marriage?