I remember enjoying life. It’s a fairly dim memory, but I can just recall life being fun and enjoyable. When did that stop?
I tried today. I dressed in a costume that makes me look like a third-grader on growth hormone. Everyone who saw me today smiled involuntarily, and most chuckled, too. I got several “thumbs-up” signs. I don’t view this as laughing AT me, especially since I dressed for that precise reaction. Seriously, if I was concerned with what everyone else thinks of me, I would dress totally in black all the time, so as to be thought “elegant.” Nevertheless, it’s the conundrum of the clown who is not happy.
I like Morocco. It’s a spectacularly beautiful country. Its bureaucracy, based on the former French-controlled system, is legendary, but that is just one more thing that makes it not the country I came from. Most of the time, it’s charming and downright silly, not frustrating and annoying as hell, which it admittedly is sometimes.
My problem with the country is my significant other. Morocco is a country where women view a married man as fair game, because here in this predominately Islamic country, it is legal for a well-to-do man to have as many as four wives. This possibility has intrigued my male partner quite a bit, and has started tiny little rat wheels turning in his head. The little rat is running furiously on these wheels, trying to figure out how to get HIS significant other to agree to being wife number one.
The thing is, in this culture, to have more than one wife, you first have to be Muslim. That is a deal-breaker right there. Second, in this culture where four wives are permitted a well-to-do man, there is absolutely no mention, not the first peep, about wife number two being financed and paid for by wife number ONE (that would be me).
To me, it would be like getting pregnant to see if we might want to continue to be parents. This is not a “try it on and see if it fits” sort of deal, here, any more than adopting a child or having a baby is on a trial basis. In addition, even if I was even partially, remotely amenable to this suggestion, there is the fact that Muslim women are culturally raised all their lives to consider being a multiple wife as something that is normal. They might even have some idea about how to actually go about doing it without killing each other. To me, killing each other would be a natural, and predictable, result. Where I come from, generations of people understand completely that when husband (or wife) finds married partner with another person, murder is going to occur. This is a no-brainer.
Anyway, I turned in my resignation at this job last week when I realized that I could not continue to live and work in Morocco and actually keep the man I am married to……alive. And, I also realized that, even though this is not at all a bad job, that I do not like the job here enough to even consider for a moment staying here in this country as a single woman, without my spouse (alive or dead). So, with, or without my spouse, Morocco is going to be history as soon as I complete this contract.
It’s like the old cliche: it’s a great place to visit, but you don’t want to live there!