International currency exchange is bullshit. Seriously. When I arrived in Morocco, the US Dollar was at an all time low. It couldn’t buy squat. Now that I am ready to leave, all of a sudden, it shoots up again. So now whatever dirhams I can figure out how to trade in will be worthless. A thousand curses upon you, international currency exchange rates!
Anyway, so, one day a badly injured man stumbles in to a town in Southern Egypt. The mayor asks him what happened, and he tells a terrible story about being in the sudan, and being tortured, and the militias burning his house, and that he was being held hostage in a hospital but escaped by going to the bathroom and climbing out the window. The next day two more men arrive and tell the same story, they escaped from the same place and the same window. The day after, it’s three more men. So the mayor decides something must be done. He calls up the head doctor at the hospital in Khartoum and asks if it’s true. The doctor doesn’t come right out and say it, but he admits it’s true. The mayor demands that something be done about it. “What do you want me to do?” Asks the doctor. The mayor replies: “Perhaps you could put bars over the window?”