I’m home alone while everyone has rushed to a neighbor’s house, a certain mom of Firdaus who has just bought a villa in the suburbs of Azrou at 1380 m above sea level. For the occasion, they’re eating and dancing until late, while I preferred to stay for a few hours in peace and, at the moment, there isn’t a single ehm, cicada in the air... Before leaving, dear Oumaima, the new mom of little Reda, prepared me a plate of mackerel fillets with tomato and onion salad, half a baguette, and she made a two-cup moka; all it takes is to set it on fire. Oh, and I almost forgot a big glass of cold water...