I was travelling with a friend in Morocco, and we were greeted in a now-familiar manner by the owner of the Hotel Toubkal in Meknčs: the quick glance around, the sudden hunch towards us, and the somewhat sleazy Moroccan accent: 'You wan' some hashish?' It was something like our hundredth offer of the week, and now we had a hotel manager to add to a list which already included bartenders, street sweepers, bus drivers, passers-by, and people shouting from the other end of the street.

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