Peace and love. We're on the train heading to Paris and then we're on a plane to Tunisia! It seems unreal. I'm just now realizing how excited I am. My Father said he has always wanted to go to Africa-something I didn't know-but that now I've beat him to it. I'm excited. I really don't know what to expect in Tunisia; I've read some good travel information but all the reading in the world won't compare to actually smelling the air, hearing the voices of the people and the sounds of the language. Yeah…I'm excited. :)
12/22/02
We spent a rainy night in Paris. First we had some Chinese food and then we went to the Charles De Gaulle airport where we spent six, yes, six hours. Dominique went to sleep on the floor and I tried to make a bed out of three wire chairs (no, it was not cute) but we figured that this way we would at least be on time for the flight and we wouldn't have to pay for a hotel for just a few hours. Well, in the end we still had to rush and take a bus to another part of the airport. But it was all worth it; now we're sitting in the sun in Djerba, Tunisia.
We've only been here two hours and already the beauty of the place overwhelms me. It is so new to me. The Muslim men congregating at cafes wearing long tunics and small red hats, wrapped women walking down the roadside, men with a donkey driven carts. The shapes of the buildings make me feel as though I can see the hands that made them; there are circles and arches, imperfect rectangles and earth colours. Here, at Dar Faiza where we are staying, there are bougainvillea, hibiscus and olive trees. First I said, "This reminds me of Southern Spain" but then I remembered that architecturally, and culturally, this is the region that gave southern Spain much of its beauty. I feel blessed to be sitting here.
12/23/02
We went to the old souq today but didn't buy anything. We had a delicious lunch instead!! Calamari, couscous, salad Tunisienne and the a la menthe (mint tea with extra sugar and strong black tea) for about 10 dinar. (8 euro or dollars) We sat at the restaurant and watched people for awhile. Of course people were watching us too. Yesterday when we went to the market Libyan- which is the local market for vegetables, fruits, second hand clothes and herbs- it seemed as though everyone was checking us out. I couldn't quite figure out why. I'm Black but there are Black people here, I was wearing a long skirt, a long sleeved shirt and I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. My hair was uncovered though and I think that had something to do with it.
Today, before we went out I covered my head. The few women I've seen here don't have their faces covered just their heads and even then I saw a few young women at the market whose heads were not covered. Anyway, I covered my head today to see what would happen. It helped a little but I guess because we were in the tourist market, I had to be a tourist. "Bonjour, are you from Senegal? Sudan? Martinique? South America? Do you speak French? English?" Everyone on the market wants to know where we're from- it will help them with their sales pitches, but today, "Je ne veux pas acheter, regarde seulement" we weren't buying only looking. I learned yesterday while looking at some baskets that you really have to bargain like mad to get reasonable prices here. In the end you still don't know what's reasonable and what's pure
nonsense.
We heard the call to prayer two or three times today; I envisioned people giving thanks with joy and seriousness in their hearts. Hearing and seeing Arabic all over I realize how beautiful it is. The writing itself is an art.
To be or not to be
Djerba reminds me of Cancun is some ways, the economy is largely based on tourism; that can be devastating to a culture and it can foster one dimensional interactions such as: "You have money, buy this, you have something I want here's the money." I think that there is a difference between travel and tourism. They may stem from the same place but to me, what a person does once he or she arrives at the destination is what can make the difference. I've seen folk walking around here half naked and this is an Islamic country. If you travel to learn something and share something, then respect. I guess if a person just wants to take photos and work on a tan, then…
Some tourists simply hang out at the beach in front of their resort hotel. Doing this makes it possible for them to never see who really lives in the place they are visiting (but not visiting.) We took a cab to the beach and the driver pointed out resort hotels that charge 170 euro a night! "That is where the Swiss stay and that's where the Germans stay," he explained. There is a sauna, pool, massage room and even a shop selling local crafts. Funny. You can be in Tunisia and not.
The water spoke,
welcomed me back to this
land where waves know
my name and sand recalls
the footprints of my mothers
the water speaks.
The beach was beautiful. Watching the sky change, finding treasure in the sand. The water was warm enough to walk in. It was very peaceful. Finally, I touched water from the African side.
12/25/02
Imagine it's Christmas! Christmas and there are palm trees, date trees, donkeys, blue sky, sun, sheep, and olive trees everywhere. We are in the louage (basically a dollar van but it takes you much farther) on the way to Douz.
Yesterday was an amazing day. We rented a car and drove to Chennini and Duiret where a people called the Berbers are living in the mountains. No, not on the mountains but in them; like they dug part of the earth out and moved in. We had a man flag us down on the road and he became our guide for the trip. At first we were leery about picking a stranger up off the street, letting him in the car and following him into some place we've never been but it turned out to be cool. He, Monsieur Salem, took us up the mountain and into his room. It was small, dark and held a bed and a few items of clothing. He also showed us where the sheep lived, and then he took us to another room used for storage. It is amazing to me that people actually live in the mountains. They have set up an electric system and a place to make calls from. We even met a brother who is building a restaurant in the Duiret mountains. We climbed up- way up- stairs of rock and paths of sand. We saw rooms of rock. Without our guide, Mr Salem, we wouldn't have seen it.
It has been a beautiful three days. It has also been interesting being a woman in a society where women are covered up if they are older and not really seen if they're young. We ate at a place in Tataouine that was full of men! No women. We've been in three cafes and I have been the only woman. Covering my head has not deflected any attention. Dominique still has his backpack so people have started to guess that I am Senegalese or Sudanese and he is French. No one has given us any negative energy; I figure they are just very curious about where we come from.
Taxi-Cab confessions
My first few days in Havana I worried about the inevitable moment when someone would realize I was not Cuban and ask me where I was from. The embargo that keeps food, medicine and just about every other necessity from getting to Cuba was instated by the country I was born in.
Here in Tunisia where people are Arab and practice Islam, I worried because of the "war on terrorism" and the "axis of evil" which have vilified Arabs and Islam. For three days I wasn't willing to even admit that I spoke English. (I spoke Ekeremento a mixture of French, Spanish and Dutch) :) But today when the cab driver asked, I confessed that I'm from New York. Then I asked him if people in Tunisia think Americans are crazy because of the constant war cry coming from "our" direction. He said, "No people think Bush is crazy." And we both laughed. He continued saying, "The government does these things not the people."
Then I remembered that in Havana people told me the same thing. They didn't blame us for the insanity of our government.
If the condition of our world could come down to two people speaking a third language simply out of an eagerness to communicate then we'd be in a wonderful space.
The cab driver said that there aren't many people who visit from the States. I feel really blessed to be here. Maybe when it is all said and done we'll all be richer because of an honest encounter.
A place with many hearts
12/27/02
We are somewhere in the midst of the Sahara Desert. We'll be sleeping here tonight. I rode on a camel guided by Wallid; Dominique walked with Muneer who was guiding another camel. Can you imagine-a woman used to riding the R train, the MARTA and the metro rode into the Sahara on a camel! It was beautiful.
Douz is an amazing town. It is full of beautiful, spirited, spiritual people with a deep integrity. Everyone we meet says, "Bienvenue a chez nous." We have spent the last two days in place after place having the a la menthe with people who feel like family; Ahmed, Mohammed, Abdel, Wallid and today Wallid's family. Meeting Wallid's family was wonderful. Six girls, the Mother and Father. I was thrilled to finally be in the company of women. They told me that I didn't see women anywhere because they go to school and come straight home. They aren't allowed to hang out in cafes or at the market. When they told their mother, who didn't speak French, that I was talking about women in cafes she shook her head and her finger so the café must be a big no-no. The mother and I didn't speak the same language but thankfully, there is a language beyond words and we spoke that to each other. Eventually she joked that the guys should go into the desert and I should stay with them. It was a blessing to meet and be welcomed by women. To be greeted with big hearts and smiles, to feel a mother's affection and be sent away with kisses and hugs. The one daughter who said she wants to, "Regarde la monde," see the world told me that my first visit to their home must not be my last one.
Many of the people in Douz have a special relationship with the desert. They are Bedouin and Nomad. Some of them have even spent years living in the Desert. Ahmed, who runs a store and invited us to have tea, explained that living in the desert is about taking good care of your animals, experiencing the peace of stars, sky, miles of sand and silence. He told us, in no uncertain terms, that he would rather be in the desert than in town working in his store but that because of family obligations he has to stay in town. "The desert is my home," he explained, "but now people mostly use the camels to take tourists into the desert."
12/29/02
We're on our way to Paris again. Let me tell you, Tunisia, Douz is a stunning place. The spirit of that little place, the energy of the people we encountered. Mohammed- who wouldn't let us leave on the louage because at that time of day the trip would be close to impossible-invited us to spend the night at his home where his sister cooked a delicious meal of soup and couscous with vegetables and chicken; Wallid and Muneer who shared the traditional way of life in the desert with us, taught us a song, cooked pan de sable (sand bread) and gave us sweet parting gifts; and Ahmed who is a true brother, a true man of the desert whose open heart and beautiful energy I'll never forget, and Wallid's Mom, who embraced me like her own and gave me the oasis of a woman's laugh in the Sahara.
It is difficult to journey away from a place with a heart and that's what we are doing, leaving a place with many hearts.
A short rant on passport politics
With an American or European passport the world is yours. We can roll up just about anywhere we want (if we can afford to). Maybe we'll need a visa and maybe we won't but we can go. Our folk in Cuba, our folk in Tunisia, our folk in Burundi, Rwanda-all over in other words-everyone just about everywhere else has to go through hell and high water to visit us. I realized this when I told Wallid, our friend and guide in Douz, that he would have to visit my boyfriend and I in Amsterdam or New York one day. He said he couldn't. He said he needed a letter of invitation. I said, "Well, we'll invite you then." Seemed simple enough to me, but then my boyfriend explained that now there are rules in Holland that say a person who invites someone to visit must also sign a document saying they are willing to pay 50000 euro if their guest doesn't use his/her return ticket. Huh!? And really, what would an Arab friend have to go through to visit me in the states now? All this makes the concept of a free world more laughable than it already is. It's as though people are trapped by their nationalities. Every time I go somewhere with this passport I realize that it is BECAUSE of this passport that I even think of going in the first place. It's a shame we have passports in the first place and now they've become like chains. For me the sweetness of being welcome by people in Douz was tainted by the bitterness of realizing it is damn near impossible for them to ever visit me. How do we change this????
Do you want to go? Well, you can find amazing
deals through this travel agency Nouvelles-Frontieres.You have to leave from Paris for many of the cheapest
tickets. Other than that check the travel sections of alternative
newspapers for agencies offering cheap tickets.
Sleeping, eating, doing…
Big up to the Lonely
Planet guide about Tunisia.This book is full of important info: maps, cheap hotel
listings and restaurants, history, facts for travellers, and a
section on being a respectful visitor.
Call or visit your Tunisian
Tourist Board because they can also send you maps and other info
free ofcharge.There is also usually someone willing to answer questions
there too.
And if you want to visit the
desert.I’ve got the
person for you.Walid
arranges trips into the Sahara ranging from overnight to two weeks.
He is knowledgeable, reasonably priced and good people.Contact him at this address:walid_benhamed@yahoo.fr
For comments and
suggestions you can contact me by email: etallie@yahoo.com