So as we approach the downside of this Covid-19 thing, I’m starting to wonder what we as Americans have gained, or lost, due to this extraordinary event. What comes to mind are sad things, like the job situation, and all those students robbed of their graduation ceremonies. There are amazing things too, like the revelation that toilet paper isn’t as critical as everyone thought. What really got me though, was all that distance I had to make between my fellow humans and me. It made me appreciate an opposite situation I experienced years ago.
In a Moroccan Bus Station
Munching on bread and salami in a private corner of the waiting room, Barb and I relished the early morning silence after a frenetic three-day buying trip in the Tangier marketplace.
As we ate, two men casually walked into “our” area and stood directly in front of us. They remained there talking quietly, completely unaware of our presence. I looked around the room and noted the abundance of empty chairs. Yet there they stood … I could have reached out and touched their robes.
A Matter of Space
My annoyance turned to curiosity when I remembered a comment I overheard years before about Arab socialization. To deny a man your breath is to insult him. That imperative for closeness in Arab societies does not mean they’re rude; they were only being Moroccan. I decided to test the theory.
“Let’s move,” I silently mouthed to Barb. Shrugging her shoulders, she gathered her things and followed.
The A-Ha Moment
Leaving the two men, we relocated to the other side of the room. As soon as we settled in, a family—a man, a woman, and two children—entered the room. Sure enough, instead of taking a seat on the far side where they could spread out, they all sat right next to us chatting excitedly and bustling about. After being elbowed a few times by the teenage boy playing with his little sister, we got up and moved to a new, unoccupied space. **
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I wondered how those folks are faring in today’s Covid-19 world. If we feel cooped-up in our homes, unable to hit the local restaurant or soccer game, imagine how Moroccans feel. What about those bus stations and marketplaces where they’re free to share each other’s breaths as much as they want. Today, if a Moroccan is found in public without a mask, they risk going to jail. Fact is, Morocco—and the rest of the world—is finding out what it’s like to lose our right to gather as close as we want in public. In America, the land of wide-open spaces, we might not give a rip about the denying our breath thing, but aren’t you tired of not being able to give a spontaneous hug, or kiss a little one on the head? What’s your story?
** From Where Wild Olives Grow
