The eternal struggle...

Of hating the game and not the player. When it comes to Moroccan condescension that is.

As an American, I was brought up with a certain social etiquette that dictates we restrain ourselves in a situational battle of the wits. Whether it's a discussion of literatutre, history, computer savvy, or fashion sense one should navigate said situation with a certain amount of tact, well, in tact. There exists a manner in which to defeat your opponent in a diplomatic and somewhat respectful way even when you are blatantly more intelligent or have a better understanding of the situation. In a worst case scenario, passive aggressiveness is utilized to put the proverbial fork in them. Rarely, almost never, do we begin a discussion - one which hasn't reached argument or even debate status - with our pants down and tape measurer in hand. Welcome to Morocco.

The Moroccan way, it seems, is the practice of patronization without the required goods to back it up, and the presumption that you possess no goods at all - youyoungdumbblondefemaleamerican. Ahem.

As Americans we are instructed not to make assumptions of opinions, experience, or backgrounds at the risk of 'making an ass at of you and me' by making an unwise assumption. Host country nationals make a hobby out of this. They assume as a young twenty-something female I must have nothing past a high school education and no work experience, and where is your husband to speak for you? Most of you who know me can imagine the most difficult aspect of this ongoing scenario is the difficulty in restraining oneself from stooping to their level of ego competition. Overreactions tending to boil just under the surface of my complacent smile: 'I have a better education than YOU, you 40 something old man! You dropped out before highschool!! I've been earning my own money since I was 15! You have a donkey to show for yourself?! And you're telling me how to run my class???? BLEURGHHHH.' Ahem, or something like that.

Before I completely corner myself into painting a picture that every Moroccan is intentionally like this, I want to clarify that it's not the individual I am accusing of this attitude, it's the culture as a whole. (Haha, oh dear, that sounds so terrible, give me another few paragraphs to clarify.)In so many words, it's not the player, it's the game. The social construct is set up so that you are continually playing the 'mine's bigger' game. Whether it's smarter, better, faster or harder, either way you are continually in dispute over something. In America, this is usually a quality that is a major 'Deal Breaker' in another person- thank you Liz Lemon. This is a quality in people we, or at least I, deliberately avoid. I don't really enjoy continually trying to prove myself or justify my actions in nearly every conversation with someone over the age of 12. Hell, sometimes even with toddlers too. (My mom makes better cookies than your mom. ... How would you even know that? Why would you need to say that? By the way, she totally doesn't, my mom has freaking awesome cookies. And 'your mom' jokes? Really?)

I want to spend my time talking about places I want to visit over the next two years, how Zooey Deschenel and Katy Perry could be the same person if they never opened their mouths, how Vagabond by Wolfmother is pretty much the same song as Little Yellow Spider by Devendra Banhart if you think about it, about how much tastier pancreas is than brain, etc. I don't want to be head to head over some pedantic asinine argument against someone who has no idea what the balls they are talking about. And if I politely try to back out or change the subject, to them it's obviously because I do in fact, know nothing, not due to the fact I'm afraid of what I might do to them if we continue down this circular third dimension of hell conversation even Dante is unfamiliar with. Oy.

So, okay, even though there is a significant amount frustration that comes with this situation (see above) - that occupies about 75% of my conversations in country - here it appears to be a bonding experience, it's an arm extended in potential friendship: 'Hey, you're an idiot!' 'Hey, so are you!' - Insert culturally appropriate embrace here. - Everyone does it. To each other. Not just to the youngdumbblondefemaleamerican. It's just how it's done.

A few months ago, my first in country I believe, I wrote that one of my aims here is to learn how to chill the eff out. Which, I do believe, obviously still stands. I need to learn how to handle this mantra of being told I know nothing, pretty much on a daily basis. I mean, let's face it, I'm 23, I really don't know anything. I may know more than a lot of other 23 year olds out there, but in the grand scheme of things, I know pretty much squat.

Thus, for the next two years, I'll let you win. I can endure some ego bashing for the next 20 months. I'll sit and smile while the independent- opinionated-feminist-environmentalist-stubborn-bull-headed-Taurus lurks just beneath the surface biting her tongue harder than Bella wishes Edward would. Somehow figuring out how to turn said frustration into a catalyst for the a future project that could maybe even help to change some of these notions. I will, however, draw the line at the illiterate hanut worker attempting to outsmart me in a global warming debate. Nope, you're not winning this one, my friend.