Buenos dias, Bonjour, Sabah al-khir

Northern Morocco is a riot of language.

People assume I am Spanish, so if they can, they ask me lo que quiero. The fruit-seller at the souk: Manzanas diez dirhams, la granada tres dirhams. The waitors: Un sanduche de queso y un batido mixto, si? Agua con gas o sin gas?

This was a pleasant surprise, because it means I can navigate the city without feeling completely lost. Not everyone speaks Spanish, though. It seems to be limited to tourism-related folks, which makes sense, since they serve the Spaniards who come across the water on holiday.

When people shake their heads at Spanish, they usually offer French. The woman charging my phone card: Combien est-ce que vous voulez? The landlord’s wife: Si vous voudrez quelque chose… French is taught in school, so only the uneducated don’t speak it.

Of course, with each other, Moroccans usually speak Darija (unless they are Berber, but let’s hold off on that). They might greet each other with Ca va? but Lebes? is more common. They can switch between Darija and French in the same sentence, and I understand there are a lot of loanwards in Darija itself.

Conclusions:

I need to learn French (again)

And Spanish (more)

And if I want to be like the cool kids:

Arabic (Darija)

And if I want to read and write:

Arabic (Standard)