Are atheists miserable people?

Before arriving in Morocco, I researched the country extensively. I googled hundreds of general travel blogs and Morocco-specific blogs. I checked out almost every Moroccan travel book I could find in both the Walla Walla Public Library and the Whitman College Library. I read and re-read the pre-orientation manual that my host organization, UBELONG, sent to me. I bought myself the 2014 edition of Lonely Planet’s Guide to Morocco. I even searched the Whitman alumni database and found Nicole, a Whittie alumni, living in Rabat. I skyped with Nicole before leaving and had an invaluable opportunity to ask all my burning questions about what to wear, what to bring, where to workout, etc. And to my surprise, I ran into Leah while I was traveling through France. Leah, another Whittie, had spent half a year studying abroad in Rabat, so I picked her brain as well: where can you find internet and how do you navigate street food?

The point I’m trying to make is that I had a pretty good understanding of what to expect when I arrived in Morocco. Of course, no amount of reading or anecdotal accounts can totally prepare you for the amount of food Moroccan hosts try to feed you or the shoulder-to-shoulder, four-to-a-bench grand taxi ride to Salé or the Medina’s combination smells of cinnamon, leather, marinated olives and cat poop. But I hadn’t yet experienced that culture “shock” moment where you feel like you’ve been plunged in a bath of ice water, breathless and confused. That chaged during the course of a French lesson.

I had been in Morocco three weeks, and I decided to sign up for French lessons once a week for the remainder of my stay in order to improve my conversational French. The small class was entirely Moroccan students. The Moroccan tutor was very welcoming and extraverted. I was joining in the middle of the semester, and the topic discussion centered around self-confidence. At one point, the tutor mentioned that self-confidence derives from one’s faith. Although I’m not a religious person, myself, I respect one’s choice to practice, and I understand the value of religion in many cultures. The tutor continued to describe different types of faiths. When she introduced atheists, however, she stated matter-of-factly that they were miserable people. Although it was not entirely clear to me how we had leapt from building self-confidence to describing religious faith, I was bothered by her sweeping generalization that all atheists were bad.

I was not going to argue, but the tutor asked me, “c’est clair?” and I hesitated. She pressed me on the issue, so I said that I understood what she was saying, but that I didn’t necessarily think that all atheists were miserable.

“J’avais discuté avec beaucoup des athées et les observé… Ils sont toujours malheureux,” she said, arguing that all the atheists she’s met have been unhappy.

I argued that her perception of how they feel doesn’t necessarily mean that is how they feel, themselves. Our conversation started to diverge. She explained that with Islam, when something happens, it is because God willed it. I countered that this could create another problem when one doesn’t accept responsibility for one’s own actions (external locus of control... Yay psychology!). She agreed, but added nonetheless that this is why religious people are happier.

Because we were having this conversation in French, I did not feel like I was fully able to express myself. So I was pleasantly surprised to hear from two Moroccan students interject on my behalf.

“Même s’ils n’ont pas la foi, ils peuvent trouver la réalisation dans la vie par les autre moyens,” one man said that without religious faith, one can still find life fulfillment in other ways. Another girl added that humanitarian work was often a secular profession that provided individuals with purpose and satisfaction. We had been previously talking about my decision to volunteer in Morocco, and she indicated to me as an example.

Luckily, the conversation developed into an intellectual cultural exchange. We were all curious about one another’s point of view and came to the consensus that it’s okay if we have different beliefs as long as we remain respectful of one another.

The remainder of the class went well, but I left with a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. Although everyone in the class was very welcoming and friendly to me both before and after the conversation about faith, I couldn’t help but feel judged after speaking up. Clearly, they thought that I was an atheist, yet I don’t necessarily identify myself as an atheist, per se. I am fascinated by Buddhism, and I frequently contemplate Hinduism’s notion of karma. I think that certain principles from Christianity are very important, but I tend to view religious texts as allegorical. The conversation today was something that I didn’t expect, but I think maybe it will challenge me to think profoundly about these important ideas.

#planning #religion #frenchlessons #morocco #rabat #atheists #cultureshock #whitties