I love stories of kindness, and one of my personal favorites from my travels happened in Morocco. My husband John and I got to experience their kindness and generosity first-hand during a 10-day trip across the High Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert. On our second-to-last day in Morocco, we took a trip to Essaouira, a quiet seaside town on the Atlantic. During the journey there, we stopped at a restaurant, where we got to taste local special oil and honey.
After a long time, we reached our small hotel in Essaouira at around dinner time, and on our way to a local restaurant, my husband started to feel unwell. He went back to the hotel. while I had dinner alone. When I got back to our hotel, I found my husband sitting on the bathroom floor. His face almost had no color. He had been sick about six times in an hour. And he spent a lot of time in the bathroom. We guessed that local special oil and honey probably didn’t agree with him, which caused him to feel so uncomfortable. At about 1 am, my husband finally managed to leave the bathroom and climb into bed. He was very weak and dehydrated (脱水的), so I went down to the hotel’s reception (接待处) to buy a bottle of water.
I found a young man behind the desk—he didn’t look older than 18. Knowing little of the native language, I explained to him in English that my husband was sick and that I needed to buy some bottled water for him. Our hotel was very small and basic, and didn’t have a restaurant or cafe inside. Gladly, the receptionist was good at English. He understood me. He introduced himself as Pierre and said they didn’t sell any water, so I asked him where the nearest shop was. I looked out the window and my heart started to race. I didn’t have the courage to go into the unfamiliar streets in the dark, all by myself. Pierre noticed my fear. In-stead of giving me directions to the nearest shop, he asked me to wait for him for a while.
Paragraph 1:Before I nodded, he had rushed out.
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Then, Pierre called a taxi and we went to the hospital together with him.
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