Jay and I had walked from the port of Tangier up to the old city and through the Friday morning market. When I saw these tangerines and thought of their namesake significance to city, well, I had to take a picture, no? The woman in the market stall started yelling something that I didn’t understand, but which I thought was her urging me to visit her stand next door. I snapped the photo of the fruit and the woman came tearing over to me and raised her hand, threatening to strike. A man nearby calmly said to me in English, “She said no fotos.” Ooops. I made my apologies as best I could given that my Arabic isn’t what it might be, and we somewhat sheepishly walked away. Jay paled at the experience, thinking that it was forbidden to take any photos hereabouts. And each time I took out my camera over the next few hours, he looked frightened at what my snapping might next provoke. Nothing, as it turned out. And we had a wonderful time walking through the maze of the medina and the Kasbah without further incident.