After making small talk in mediocre Spanish, broken French, and little English, we managed to interpret that we were waiting for the bread that was rolled in the home to finish baking at the oven in the center of town because no home has their own oven. Finally, a man walked through the door carrying what seemed like the largest circular bread I had ever seen. Simultaneously, the mother of the family came out of the kitchen with a steaming pile of cous cous, vegetables, and chickpeas, and gently placed spoons around the circle as if she were presenting her country on a plate to us and demanded we begin to eat as she scurried back to the kitchen. Just a day before we had been invited to the outskirts of Fes by a young man we met on our grueling overnight bus ride from Spain. He was crossing the Mediterranean returning home for only three days and was thrilled to welcome five American guests into his family's home with the promise of a traditional Moroccan meal. Little did we know what was in store for us. Although the cous cous in the picture was the highlight of the meal, the tagine that followed and the fresh bread were only side dishes to the true travel experience of sharing a family meal with new local friends.