I would first like to say that, like all situations I am in where the conversation extends beyond how I am doing, where I am from, and what I am doing here I am lost. I have mastered the skill of repeating the last words the person said as a question, and that for some reason seems to give people the impression I understand them. This can be problematic especially when involved in what I call "high level conversion conversations."
For me, religion is one aspect of my multifaceted identity. If you don't like my religion, then I am sure you will find some other redeeming quality about me that you will find charming and therefore not totally write me off for my religion. But for many of the people I have met in Morocco, their religion is not one aspect of their identity, but it IS their identity. So we arrive at the classic impasse where I don't understand what the big deal is and the people around me don't understand what I don't understand about religion being a BIG DEAL.
I am not sure if you remember this, but I am mskina bzeef (very sad). I am very sad for multiple reasons, but one of them is that when I die I won't be able to spend eternity with all my new friends in paradise because I am not Muslim. I try to remind my new friends that I do believe in G-d so hopefully when I die I will go somewhere similar to paradise, and they say yes of course but it will not be the SAME part of paradise as we will be in, you will be on the OTHER side of paradise. So I am often involved in "high level conversion conversations" because we want to make sure I am in a nice neighborhood of paradise, and not that place by the train station with all that noise and people hanging around with questionable characters...
Scene: Drinking tea and eating massive amounts of cookies at a womens only party
Moroccan Woman: What religion are you?
Me: Um, what? (shoves cookies in mouth...I can't answer this questions if I am eating right?)
Moroccan Woman: What religion are you?
Me: Oh, well I am technically Jewish.
Moroccan Woman: Oh. (gives disappointing glance to everyone in the room) You know Islam is really great! Do you think Islam is good?
Me: Yes, it is. (wondering why people always ask me that, what do they think I am going to say, no Islam is bad, like I am some type of a**hole...wait, maybe they DO think I am an a**hole)
Moroccan Woman: ( to the other women in the room) She thinks Islam is great!
Everyone: (starting to talk really fast and loudly at me in a excited manner...this is all in Darija)
Me: (shit, I have no idea what is going on...but at least I don't think they think I am an a**hole)
Another Moroccan Woman: How do you pray?!
Me: Excuse me? (shove even more cookies in my mouth)
Another Moroccan Woman: How do you pray?
Me: (I don't even know how to answer this question...this genius idea of eating cookies to avoid answering questions ISN'T working) Um, I sit still, close my eyes, and say something or think something.
Yet Another Moroccan Woman: Oh, that is strange, we have a routine we do.
Me: I know.
Everyone: You know! She knows how to pray like a Muslim! (saying more things in Darija I don't understand)
Me: (shit, shit, shit, I have no idea what is going on)
Everyone: (talking really really fast using words I don't know, I think they are asking me something, but I am not totally sure, perhaps they are asking me if there are rules I have to follow, but one of the women ends her sentence with walu: nothing)
Me: Walu? (nothing?)
Everyone: WALU! WALU! Oh no, this is bad, this is very very BAD!
Me: (SHIT! What did I just say!? fml..eat more cookies! eat more cookies!).
Moroccan Woman: We have five rules we have to follow.
Me: I know (finally! something I know), there is only one God and Mohammed is his Prophet, pray five times a day, charity, fasting for Ramadan, and pilgrimage to Mecca (said entirely in Darija, I can be pretty badass when I have to be).
Everyone: (almost shits themselves with excitement that I know the Five Pillars of Islam)
Moroccan Woman: I am going to take you to the mosque on Friday to pray!
Me: Um, I don't think I can go, I am not Muslim.
Moroccan Woman: Not a big deal! You will come with me, and then you will read the Koran, they have an English version, go online and get the English version, you are a teacher and smart like that. Then you will fast during Ramadan and pray. It will be great!
Me: (smiling while shoving even more cookies in my mouth)
Moroccan Woman: But you can't go to the mosque if you have your period, will you have your period next friday?
Me: Um.... (shove more cookies in mouth)
Moroccan Woman: You know, period, PERIOD (makes hand gesture that in a strange way signifies period).
Me: Um, no.
Everyone: Oh this is so great! She is going to pray in the mosque and read the Koran!
Me: (I really need to stop pretending I understand what people are saying to me)
Moroccan Woman: Now we can find you a husband!
Me: (fml)
