Time. It seems pretty straight forward, but it I’ve found that it moves a little differently in Morocco. In any cross-cultural class, one of the first things covered is the difference between m-time (monochronic) and p-time (polychronic). America is an m-time society, where time moves linearly and punctuality is given primary importance – things are expected to start and end on time. However, in Morocco (a p-time society) time moves more to the rhythm of the community and people one is with than to the mechanical ticking of a clock.
For instance, a few weekends ago one of the Arabic professors at Amideast organized a trip for the people in my program to his “farm” about 45 minutes outside of Rabat. I say “farm” because just like my aunt has a “cabin” that’s really a lake side home with 3 bathrooms and 2 kitchens, this “farm” was really a miniature estate with a castle surrounded by an oasis of fruit trees and vegetable patches and at least 3 housekeepers that kept the place running. Even though it wasn’t the traditional Moroccan farm I was expecting (or maybe because it wasn’t) it was still a badly-needed rejuvenating experience that was completely immersed in Moroccan time. At first Moroccan time can be a bit frustrating, especially when trying to catch a bus or a tram that have no set schedule and can be stopped at any time by the driver to have a 10 minute conversation with one of his friends he sees walking by. But after making an effort to fully embrace Moroccan time, it feels like I’ve been liberated, at least partially, from the shackles of my type-A personality. For an explanation, let’s return back to the farm.
After arriving at the farm, the 16 of us on the outing were ushered into the professor’s castle and just relaxed inside his home while showering him and his wife with appreciation for their hospitality. Then, when the time was right and everyone had toured the house to his satisfaction, we migrated to the patio to find a table sagging with brimming bowls of dates, figs, and nuts and platters of the most decadent Moroccan helwat (cookies). Having consumed more delectable sweets than we should have, the professor led us on an impromptu tour of his fruit trees, handing us guavas, oranges, apples, and grapefruit straight from the tree faster than we could eat them.
The next stop was to a big hole in the ground, where we commenced to plant a fruit tree we had bought at the souk (the weekly country market) earlier that day. While planting the tree, the professor kept telling us to get our hands in the rich soil and feel the energy of the sun in the earth rising up through our feet. Every word about the beauty and vitality of the earth he uttered (in a mix of French and English) weaved the enchantment of this verdant Eden ever stronger. After spending just enough time in the garden, we moved back into the house to find 2 luxurious platters of couscous, which could have fed twice our number.
According to the schedule, we were supposed to leave after couscous, but because we hadn’t finished all the farm activities, stayed longer – 2 hours longer – until we did everything our professor had wanted us to do – bake bread, make lemon-orange juice, and walk to a neighboring dairy farm to milk a cow. The activities themselves were nothing extraordinary, but because of the people we were with and where we were, we could have been watching paint dry and we still would have had one of the best and most satisfying experiences of our time in Morocco to date. If there is one lesson I hope to bring back with me from Morocco, it is to value people and experiences more than what I do and when I do it. Time ticks away no matter how much one worries about it, so why stress out about what time it is, when the same energy could be used to strengthen relationships and truly experience life.
p.s. Sorry for the delay. This was written a week ago, but I haven’t had internet access for the last week, so I’m posting it now.
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