A Kind Lie
By Anna Ouchchy.Art by Devon Holzwarth
Highlights ( U.S. Edition )
The magazine from the USA library with the theme Kids and Tween on November 1,2019
"Nadia, aji, "Muy called.
Come here, Nadia translated in her head. She followed the sound of her grand mother's voice to the kitchen.
Muy was up to her elbows in pulp as she squeezed oranges. She fired off a set of instructions in Arabic. Nadia caught the words for oil and sugar.
"Let me gueas, "Nadia said.
"You want me to buy groceries?"
Muy smiled. "Yes, Will you use your Arabic?"
"Try."
"I talk like a baby."
Nadia had come to Morocco every year for as long as she could remember. Her father's whole family lived here in a small seaside town. Everyone seemed to argue and kiss and talk at once. She could understand most of what her relatives said, but every time she opened her mouth, her tongue stuck on the words. "Try,"her father would say, "You won't learn unless you try. "But Nadia didn't want to try. It was too frustrating.
"OK, "she said to her grandmother. "You want me to buy suker and zit laoud, "Sugar and olive oil.
Muy kiased Nadia on both cheeks, pressed 50 dirhams into her hand, and let her go.
The old town wasn't big, but it was confusing. The narrow streets twisted into each other like snakes. Nadia loved how kids could move freely here, playing outside or running errands until dark. The adults watched out for all children, her father said, not just their own.
Nadia weaved past blue door ways, white washed walls, and tiny shops until she spotted one that looked familiar. She had been here before with her father, she remembered. Behind the counter stood a boy a few years older than Nadia.
Nadia'a palms started to sweat. "Salaam alaikum, "she greeted him. ("Peace be upon you") She opened her mouth to say more, then just pointed to the oil and sugar. The boy took the items down from the shelf.
As she paid, the boy asked in Arabic,"Are you Moroccan?".
"My father....., "she began.
He nod ded and switched to English. "Half and half. How come you don't speak Arabic?"
Here wo go again. She shrugged and backed out of the shop, cheeks burning.
She kicked at a pebble. The Arabic words flooded her head now that she no longer needed them. Why did she get nervous?
She came to the end of the street where it emptied into another one. She should be getting home. But which way to go? The sun best down, making her feel dizzy and confused.
She turned right, but the street dead-ended in a courtyard.
She back tracked and ended up a young woman in a green headscarf. She pointed to herself, then to a near by house and shook her head.
The woman's forehead creased in confusion. "What is it? "the woman asked in Arabic. "Where are you parents?"
Nadia's heart pounded as if she'd just run a race. "My grandma, "she said in English, "i can't find her house."
The woman looked around for help. A new passersby drifted over, then a few more. Before long, a small crowd had gathered, giving advice and asking questions. The world seemed to close in. Think, Nadia told herself. Think. What can you say to them?
"Marafsh fin darna. "she blurted loudly. ( " I don't know where our house is." )
Looking around at the crowd, Nadia's eyes rested on the face of an older woman who had joined the group. The woman smiled, stapped forward, and enfolded Nadia in a hug.
"You must be Wardia's grand daughter. I have heard all about you. She's my good friend. My name is Fatima. "Come we will walk together."
As they walked, Fatima asked questions in Arabic and Nadia found herself answering. When she didn't know a world, She acted it out.
They stopped outside Muy's apartment, and Fatima said, "You speak good Arabic."
"Chokran." ( "Thanks you" )
Nadia was grateful for Fatima's kind lie. And now she was determined to make it true.
Words that are difficult to understand :
1. You want me to buy suker and zit laoud.
