"There are two men here for you". Those words woke me out of a deep morning slumber after being in Morocco for 6 days. It felt like a practical joke I couldn't wrap my head around that early in the day. But no, there really were two men in suits on a dry, 35 degree morning at my in-laws' doorstep in Morocco. Who even had my in-laws' address? The Ministry of Health did.
There was a confirmed case of swine flu (now officially called H1-N1, since pigs are out of the picture) on the plane en route to Casablanca from London. Luckily, the compromised individual was not sitting near me, as the two rows in front and behind the person were getting treatment for the flu. Since 6 days had passed, I was 85% in the clear and I had a 15% chance of developing symptoms. The men from the Ministry got my address from the customs form I filled out (my grandmother-in-law lived in Meknes, 4.5 hours away from Casablanca). They surveyed me for 4 days, calling everyday to ask how I felt and to see if there was any change in my condition. Apparently they monitored everyone who was on that flight.
Impressive and kinda creepy.
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