People Dynamics

One of the most interesting things about traveling - for me at least - is not so much those special "ethnic" things that are completely different from one society to another. Instead, it is how they those same daily, routine things are done differently and what this says about that society's priorities and values.

The first thing you realize in just any random conversation is that the whole "personal space bubble" does not apply here. This doesn't just apply to random touching to make a point but also just to where people stand. When I talk to a Moroccan, I often find myself reflexively stepping back for no other reason than my eyes aren't used to focusing that close on someone. In the US and Europe we -subconsciously or consciously - give others their space and ensure we are given ours. That's why if you're in an almost empty metro car or bus and you sit next to someone, they might eye you warily. Here, even the monkeys are touchy-feely (see picture).

Another example is business related encounters. In my experience in the State Department, when you call or meet with someone, its mainly business first, everything else is secondary. However, here there is an array pleasantries that must be done before you even start to think about business. It makes life a little less efficient but, at times, it certainly seems worth it.

Anyone devoted to their personal space would not be all too happy in the Medinas (old towns), buses or grand taxis of Morocco. These narrow streets more often than not filled with people, donkeys, bikes and motorcycles are the public's domain. When you talk to anyone expect to have at minimum a handshake if not 2 kisses on the cheek (regardless of sex). The taxis that go longer distances, called grand taxis, have a standard capacity of 4 in the back and 2 in the one front seat. I'm reminded as well of the mini-buses in Cape Town: a number of times I had my face squished against the "Maximum capacity 12" sign as 16+ were piled on top of me. The big city buses of Rabat have small seats and are usually overflowing with people, hence allowing you to get to know the people around you and all the assorted smells that this necessarily entails.

I want to take a minute with the buses. I remember when I first got to Morocco and my friend was telling me how the buses work. And, you certainly do need someone to help you. The routes and schedules are certainly not posted online, and, as far as I know, no hard copy guide exists. People just know. So, being a neophyte, I asked where the bus stop was for the bus I needed. He proceeded to explain the bus stops do not really exist; they usually just a group of people huddled by the side of the road. Interesting, I thought, as I imagined myself ending up somewhere in rural Morocco while my coworkers started to get worried.

With a few exceptions, the buses are fairly old and run down. Little money is wasted in keeping them in good shape or, for that matter, comfortable. They are dirty and pollute a lot, belching black smoke seemingly whenever I'm standing next to one. Often, the drivers will actually come to a complete stop at the stops, sometimes people hop in as it rolls away. The system of collecting money is not high tech - one man (and it is invariably a man)with a bag of coins and carnival-like tickets. They are not user friendly at all. You have to magically find the right place to stand to get on. To get out, there is no fancy button to press, you have to be ready where the stop is, and then bang on the door frame to get it to open up.

But...and there is a but...the buses excel in two key ways - they work ( and quickly so) and they are cheap (4 Dirhams or $0.45 per trip). In other words, they sacrifice style and comfort, but they are effective as they do what they need to do and no more. If you know where the stops are and the procedure for getting off, it certainly does work quickly and easily. And, most everyone on the bus does know how they work. With not a single exception, I have been the only white person every time when I've taken the bus to work.

Someone else extraordinary that I've seen is, every now and then one person will talk to the man collecting money, and, I assume, tell him they can't afford it. The man usually nods, leaves the person be and continues collecting money. I can imagine one pleading such as case in the US would wind up on the sidewalk, not out of a lack of sympathy but rather fear that if they let some do that, others might much such claims and, pardon the pun, try to free ride.

So for me, the bus was trial and error. I definitely missed my stop the first few times because I didn't realize you had to bang on the side of the bus for the driver to open the door...you live, you learn. What I also learned, however, is that these mundane parts of life in Morocco do seem to be more about substance than style. You get close to someone and touch them while you're talking to them to show affection, not worrying about infringing on someone's personal space. The bus isn't pretty but its gets your from point A to point B...well that is if you can figure it out. There are times I really long for online schedules, predictable stops and the peace of mind and calm this all entails.

Yet, I'm also reminded that many people cannot afford such peace of mind - what matters is that it works. In America, more often than not, if something doesn't work we toss it out. But, as a friend of mind, Ben Mansbach talked about in his blog from Cameroon (http://benjamin.nomadlife.org), in Africa people tend to fix them up again and again and again, rather than just buying a new one. Because money certainly is an object, they are eager to substitute style for substance. Maybe this is a trade-off we need to consider a little more back in the good old US. We forget that the reason we take a bus or have a car is to get from point A to point B. We forget that what makes life special aren't material comforts but rather the intimate personal relations and interactions that we have with people, be they members of our family, random people we meet in the street or those we do business with.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy my convenience and comforts to some extent and feel fortunate to be able to afford them. Yet, too often many in the west, myself included, or others who lead privileged lives regardless of where they live, focus a little too much on the style in which we get somewhere (figuratively or literally), and forget to stop, be thankful, and appreciate the fact that we got there in the first place.