The grocery stores in Morocco have lower quality produce and meat than the specialty shops like the produce market and the butcher.
So since the fridge was empty after our week in Agadir, I made a quick run to the produce market this morning. Then, loaded up with two huge bags of produce, I stumbled into the butcher's to get some sausage and turkey. While I was waiting in line for the butcher, an older man dressed in traditional garb came in and started looking at my two bags.
It surprised me a little when he started mumbling to me in Darija. Usually Moroccans profile me as Western and start talking to me in French. Partially because of the surprise and partially because of the mumble, I didn't understand what he was saying. So I just assumed he was commenting on how much produce I had. I lifted the two bags and said in a sing-songy Darija "Lots of produce, right?"
He shook his head. Obviously I hadn't understood him.
"...the oranges..," was all I understood.
I didn't have any oranges.
I raised the bag filled with three kilos of mandarines and said, "These are mandarines...three kilos." I nodded my head and raised my eyebrows to emphasize the grandeur of my produce purchase.
He shook his head again. "No I just want one."
I suddenly realized he didn't care about how much produce I was carrying. He just wanted some of it.
In Morocco, there is a different conception of personal property. People share the same bowls and cups in restaurants and at home. Water stations (not always fountains) have one cup that everyone shares. A message from a cell phone of your friend's friend is often from your friend. Someone eating in a public space is almost obligated to share his snack with those around him. I surmised that carrying produce in public falls into the same category.
I awkwardly reached into the bag with the mandarines and pulled one out.
"Thank you. God's blessing on you."
I got my meat from the butcher, paid, and headed home. Now my produce sits safely in the fridge and on the kitchen counter.
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