Smiti Layla

Leah is not easy for Moroccans to pronounce or remember. Smiti Layla. My Moroccan name is Layla.

We began our crash course in Darija—Moroccan Arabic—when we were in Rabat, and language training continues to be the focus of CBT. Darija is a spoken language. Each Arab country actually has its own spoken dialect that is related to Classical Arabic. Moroccan Darija shares roughly 60% of the language with Classical Arabic, according to Ikram. She also postulates that the dialects from the Gulf countries—Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Kuwait—are likely the closest to Classical Arabic. Travel between North African and Middle Eastern countries is thus more difficult due to the variation in dialects. According to the Saudi Arabian students I worked with in St. Louis, Moroccan Arabic is particularly challenging for other Arab speakers to understand since it also borrows from French.

Darija is used in everyday interactions, between family and friends, with shopkeepers and taxi drivers. Classical Arabic is taught in schools beginning in kindergarten; French is introduced later, usually between the ages of 6-9 (private schools start earlier than public schools); and English classes begin during our high school sophomore year equivalent. And that’s not all. There are also Berber languages, which (fun fact) were recently recognized as national languages in a referendum that passed last fall. Some Moroccans grow up learning a Berber language in the home while Darija is picked up in the streets amongst friends. The different dialects are common to a particular region—Tarifit (North), Tamazight (Middle Atlas), Tashelhit (South), or Hassaniya (Sahara). My LCF Ikram speaks Tashelhit with her family, but she also knows Darija, French, Classical Arabic, and English. Be impressed.

There’s a possibility that I will be placed in a final site where a Berber language is commonly spoken. I will still be able to communicate with people using my new (albeit limited) Darija, but it might mean developing additional languages skills in site. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

I feel relatively confident in my Darija, not because I’ve developed an extensive vocabulary or clear understanding of the grammar, but because most of the time I can successfully communicate my ideas, using any means at my disposal. There’s a lot of mime involved. Pronunciation still remains the most difficult part for me—there are some sounds that just do not exist in English and must be learned from scratch. Luckily, I have two years and ample opportunity to practice. But I relish any victories—conversing with my host mom about why she enjoys Ramadan; almost making a room reservation for an overnight in Fes without the aid of my teacher; communicating to a group of middle schoolers that a character in Wall-E is a smart computer that talks to people; explaining to a host family that I don’t eat any meat because it makes me sick. Go team.