The Bar

So an ex-fulbrighter is an excellent person and takes me to a bar she’s heard of. It was really laid back- not like the bars in Fes, which are populated only by murderers and thugs. This one seemed a little more like a US bar, where you could go in, drink, and leave without having had to hit anyone over the head with a barstool.

So we sit for a while, and I eat a sausage sandwhich and drink a couple of Flag Especials, and then we move to the back room. After a while the young lady’s roommate shows up, and it turns out that she knows a couple of guys that are in the bar. So we go and sit with them, and introduce ourselves and chat for a little bit in Arabic. If I recall, one was a cement industry procurer and the other was a muscian. But after a while one of them turns to me and says “You’re not French, are you?”

I ask why he thinks that, and he says “The French never speak in any other language.”

So, there that is. I don’t know if that’s a stereotype or what, but the point is, it’s really surprising to see how much people appreciate it when I try and mangle out some arabic for them. I guess in the US everyone speaks English, well, Anglish anyway, so I never thought about it before.


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