Last day in Morocco and I’m not doing anything touristy or even all that Moroccan.  I went for my first run since…I actually don’t know when…maybe the Thanksgiving Turkey Trot…cafe-ed it up, and got my eyebrows did.  Yep, eyebrows.  I feel like this kind of makes me a bad traveller, but it had to be done.  This also means that I might not have any Moroccan money left to buy food during the million hour wait I have at the Casablanca airport, but, again, it had to be done.  

Morocco has been amazing but I’m surprising myself by how glad I am that this little jaunt into pseudo-Western culture was so short.  I’ve gotten my fill of ice cream (14 scoops in 10 days…not kidding) and now I’m pretty pumped to get back to Africa Africa.  (Wait, is that an awful thing to say/phrase to us?  If so, I’m sorry.)  I’ve actually be missing the little kids chanting “whitey” as I walk down the street, the long sweaty bus rides where everyone laughs at me when I ask if this is my stop when it’s actually not for another four hours, and the “here goes nothing” feeling I have every time I eat something that isn’t one of the granola bars I brought from home.  So, I’m off.  Tanzania, you better deliver.