“Where are you from?”

“The United States.”

“Ohhhh—Barack Obama!”

“Yes.”

“You like Africa—he is pure African.”

It’s been a while since we’ve had a conversation like this (about seven months, since this happened on a daily basis in India), and I’d forgotten how entertaining they are. Last night, while eating at Thami’s, our host, upon learning that we were Americans, exclaimed, “Oh, yes, you like Morocco! We were the first to see the U.S. as a country!”

I wasn’t expecting anyone to know that fact—much less bring it up—but they did. We were on our way out to breakfast at Clock Café. Mom and Dad had pancakes saturated in syrup with kiwi and banana and Ethan and I had tomato and scrambled eggs on bread.

Once Ethan’s orange juice was done, we returned to our house so Mom could work on laundry. Later, we ventured out into the medina and went to Bou Inania Medersa, which is a place of learning. We stood in the courtyard, taking pictures of the tiles, while Ethan befriended the two cats who lay in the sun.

Back outside, Ethan and I finally stepped outside of the medina. It was like a whole new world—a whole new modern world, I might add. For our postcards, we bought outrageously expensive stamps before returning to the medina to buy olives, eggs, and sweets for snacks and breakfast.

Supper was at Le 44, which is at number 44 on a little side street. Run by a French woman, it offers a respite from couscous and tagine, which are served by every single restaurant (except this one!).

Ciao!