May 29, 2013

IMG_2738On Tuesday, my host brother remarked that I seemed sad. My host mom and sister, who were also in the room, glanced over but didn’t comment except to tell him to leave me alone. The next day, my host mom called me at 8am to order me to come over for lunch. When I arrived, I found that my host mom had prepared couscous just because she knows it’s my favorite, my host sister had made me my favorite juice, and my host brother was beaming at me from in front of a television set that was blaring American cartoons. This is my Moroccan happy place.


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