Salma
I am feeling rough and most days havent walked more than a hundred meters from the homestay. One of my food trips brings me to a little cafe and I manage to order a chicken soup. The food is good. As I eat I joke with the lady in muslim headgear at the other table asking if she is the boss. Few minutes later she is standing near the wall, scarf removed and fanning herself feeling hot and minutes later she is sitting at the table next to mine. Name is Salma, she says as in muSALMAn. I tease her a few times and she becomes a little physical, play hitting me and also pulls out a little photo album of hers! Most of the photos are on her own and some with a less attractive friend. She is about to leave and I joke that I will write to her (me and my big mouth) she pulls out pen and paper and wants my email address and telephone number! she is quick. I decline the request and take her number instead and lose it soon afterwards.