For several weeks Ziyyad is adamant about a visit to his home, but I delay. Another visit to another family, I think. On display the whole night! Again! I know that a good ethnographer never turns down an invitation. But every night of my final two weeks in Aleppo I have committed myself to activities, including several lectures outside the city. I'd already met Ziyyad several times at other students' homes, where the women in the family had cooked for us, or someone had purchased take-out food from a local restaurant. In these Muslim households, we eat and discuss with only the other men and boys. Ziyyad plays on my guilty conscience about delaying a visit to his family and begins to ask personal questions: 'Who are you seeing today?' 'Why are you unable to come?' I cannot say no for ever. He has actively sought my friendship. I agree to the Saturday evening before my departure.