One of my favourite moments from my holiday in Morocco was going into a big cosmetics shop in a market and rifling through big baskets of underpants.I had run out of clean ones and needed to buy some more. Opposite me, rifling through more baskets of underpants were three local women, all old, dressed in hijabs, in their sixties I’d say. They chatted casually, occasionally holding up large cotton underpants to ask the price to a young male shop assistant who was scrolling through his phone nearby. After a moment one of the ladies let out an enormous burp. A real indulgent sonorous burp. It was so loud it sort of stopped the shop. But none of the ladies reacted. They just carried on rummaging through the pants and chatting. I had to clamp my mouth shut to stop laughing.