Morocco trip journal: the six-year old bread seller

Some of my strongest travel memories are things for which there are no real records, no photographs, no scraps of mementos. They only exist on a loop in my memory bank. It certainly helps to take fastidious notes while on the road, because I never stop being impressed by this particular incident.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010, Fes el-Bali

Today’s great thing. Bought some thin bread from a six year-old girl, the only employee present at a small boulangerie by the blue gate, Bab Boujeloud.

We pointed to the bread we wanted in the display case and gestured to show the pizza slice-sized pieces we wanted. Very seriously and professionally, she cut it according to the size we indicated. Then, with the swiftness of a seasoned professional, she weighed it on a fifty-year old science lab scale with counterbalance weights, and wrapped it to go in wax paper. While she didn’t bargain, she took our money and made change in the most officious, serious manner possible. Speaking the simplest of transactional French, she thanked us and went back to arranging the remaining bread in the display case.

If you do need a picture, I assembled one quickly for your amusement. I was not served by Dora the Explorer, but the hairstyle was awfully popular among little girls in the medina.

Dora the breadseller
Dora the breadseller

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