There is a little Syrian restaurant right outside the old medina in Rabat that I used to eat at regularly while living in Morocco. My roommate and I would go nearly every night, and sometimes we’d bring friends. They served the most incredible avocado smoothie topped with almonds and spices that you can imagine… I’d do terrible things for the recipe.
The wait staff all recognized us, and while our Arabic was dreadful, we were also very predicable in our orders. One night after a particularly stressful and upsetting day, the main server arrived at our table with a glass of water. People in Morocco (and most parts of the world) do not typically drink ice with their water. I’d grown accustomed to that and didn’t miss it much, but when the waiter produced a single ice cube and dropped it into my glass with a flourish and a beaming smile, I almost burst into tears. It was an unexpectedly touching and thoughtful gesture. It didn’t actually do shit to cool down my water, of course, but it was just so unnecessarily *nice* of him that I remember it as the single most refreshing beverage I had that year.