Today I want to remember that time where I was sitting outside the front of Jamaa Badr, the large mosque in my new neighborhood of Agdal here in Rabat.
It was a pleasantly chilly evening and I was worn out after quite a long day of medina wandering and the long walk to school. I found myself a good location to have a seat outside the mosque while waiting for a friend I was to have dinner with. As I sat there, head between my shoulders, elbows resting on my knees, enjoying the November breeze, a passing woman did a double take and took a few steps back to me with her pocketbook in hand. The next thing I knew she was trying to push her zakat into my hand! I wish I had been prepared with the proper Arabic phrase which would graciously repel her humble attempt at alms. The best I could do was to pull my hands to my chest and tell her "Ah non, merci". Then I felt sufficiently pathetic enough to stand up and get over the aches in my legs before heading off to tell this story one time only.