Making Peace With Being the Foreigner in Morocco
Being the same might never come, in any country, for anyone who arrives as an adult.
Picture a couple named Harold and Jean. They moved to Morocco in their late fifties. Today they know the baker, the man at the fruit stall and the woman across the hall. They have been in the same flat for many years. And still, when they walk into a room, someone says, "Ah, the foreigners."
The old hands
One story I came across describes the older foreigners who settled in Tangier long ago. They are remembered as eccentric and a little wry about their own lives. They stayed for years, they kept their odd habits, and they never quite turned into locals. They seemed to know that, and they seemed to enjoy it.
I find that interesting. Most of us picture a move abroad as a line. On day one you are new, and somewhere down the road you belong. These old hands suggest the line may not go all the way. You might become part of the scenery without becoming part of the family tree.
What I think is going on
I think there are two kinds of belonging. One is being known. The other is being the same. Being known can come in a few years. Being the same might never come, in any country, for anyone who arrives as an adult.
If you go in expecting to be the same, each "foreigner" feels like a small door closing. If you go in expecting to be known, the same word can feel almost friendly. It is a label, and the people using it may mean nothing sharp by it.
Harold might put it this way over tea.
"Eleven years, and they still introduce me as the American."
Jean might smile. "They introduce you. That is something. Nobody introduces a stranger."
The wry way
What stands out to me in the Tangier story is the humor. The old hands did not fight the label. They wore it, a bit like a favorite coat. A dry sense of humor seems to help a great deal here. It lets you say, "Yes, I am the odd one," and get on with the day.
That is not the right path for everyone. Some people want to blend in, and they work at language, customs and local friendships for years. That is a fine goal. I only think it helps to decide ahead of time which goal is yours, so a small word does not feel like a verdict.
You could…
- Write down what belonging would look like for you, in plain terms.
- Notice who in your street knows your name, and count that as progress.
- Spend time with a few longtime residents and ask how they feel about the label.
- Try the wry approach for a month and see how it sits.
If you have lived abroad for years, what does being the foreigner feel like to you now?
Tell us in the comments