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4th
Boy, has it been a long time since the last journal or what?!!! I think it was April. It's gotten real busy around here. I'm now working full time at the Embassy. It's our busy time of year. School is out, so this is when all the moves take place - both in and out of Dakar. We have mixed feelings. We're losing some good friends and acquaintances; yet we're meeting new people coming in that could become new friends.
Son Pete's has been here for
over a month. It's good to have him with us. He does seem to be
thriving over here -- at least from the social standpoint. He's developed
a group of friends that keep him out to all hours. Next Tuesday he starts
work at the American Club, redecorating the barroom. He'll be here until
July 26. He's actually reading books! Will wonders never cease?
Lots of 4th of July activities
this weekend. Friday night the Embassy put on a reception for 400 at the
Meridien Hotel: Marine Color Guard, band, fireworks, hotdogs and
hamburgers. Today, Sunday, a daylong picnic at Ebbett's Field - a nice
spot right on the ocean: horseshoes, water balloon fights, sack races, football
and softball, good food and beautiful weather.
For Monday's holiday, I've
organized a golf tournament. We should have about four foursomes show up.
So ... life is good, except for my having to work five days a week until
the end of August.
Hope all is well with you and yours.
10th
Travels with Anzie - Part 26: Tunisia
I found Tunisia to be really "other". Since I'd never visited any Arab country besides Mauritania, I had never before experienced the feeling of total immersion in an Arab world. A majority of Tunisians speak French. However, the further you travel away from the major population centers in the North, the more Arab this world becomes. Eventually all the signs, menus and instructions are in Arabic; all of the music you hear is Arabic, as are the dress and the customs. It even becomes more difficult to find someone who speaks French.
It's a land of ancient history, contrasts and gentility. There's Carthage, a city that competed with Rome to be the capital of Roman civilization, and lost - remember Hannibal and the elephants? There's Djerba, the island made famous by Ulysses as the Land of the Lotus Eaters. We find evidence of more recent history in the rusting hulks of German tanks used by Rommel's forces in WWII. They resemble the corpses of dinosaurs rotting in the relentless desert sun.
Contrasts: the contrast in geography is unforgettable. We spent our first week in Northern Tunisia along the Mediterranean coast. It was early May and a bit nippy. The occasional rains accentuated the greenery of the many vineyards, orchards and truck farms that covered the landscape. Olive trees where everywhere.
Along the North Coast of Tunisia
Olives --- Oh, the olives! They're very best in the world, in my humble opinion. We must have consumed a thousand during our two weeks there. So many different subtle flavorings! They must season the olives in a variety of spices. We could see ourselves becoming olive connoisseurs with the same fervor that people reserve for wine.
As we travel south we pass through the breadbasket region. Wheat and other grains are the crops of choice --- as well as olives, always more olives. We note that the climate becomes increasingly arid. Finally, the bottom third of the country is desert. It starts out like Arizona - rocky mesas and buttes with varieties of cactus and thorny acacias the only greenery. Then you enter The Great Sahara with its never-ending and seemingly identical sand dunes. On the map it shows only three outposts of civilization in 230 miles.
The contrasts in life-style are remarkable. Along the coast you have the beach resorts like Hammamet, Sousse and the island of Djerba: plenty of bare skin, gambling casinos, wines and good food - the good life. A local described the Tunisian coast as the place where residents of the other Arab nations go to sin. The further inland you travel the more clothes the people wear: long, flowing robes, turbans. The women are especially covered up, wearing a white cloth much like a bed sheet -- called a safari that wraps around and covers all but part of their faces. Many women keep an edge of their sheet clenched in their teeth, so they can hold their many bags and/or children's hands.
Our first 5 days we spent in the northeast in the seaside tourist town of Hammamet. We used a coupon from our timeshare ("if you buy today we will give you three coupons to use over the next two years") that cost us only $149 to stay for a week in an elegant suite in a 5 star hotel. We used this as a base to explore the Cap Bon peninsula, rich with citrus and vineyards and great sea food restaurants on the beach. This is also the pottery center of Tunisia. One neat place we passed by and turned around to go back to see was a store that rented chairs and backdrops for weddings. A Tunisian wedding is done in great style and this store was a trip! Here we are trying out the wares!! Why don't I think this would fit in our Unitarian Church??
From there we also explored the city of Sousse to the south, and wandered around the Medina or old walled city. This was my first time in an Arab "souk" or market area; small cobblestone streets with no vehicles, lined with shops of all kinds. As Sousse has a beautiful beach, there were many tourist shops selling hand woven carpets of all sizes, beautiful silver jewelry, and intricately patterned brass tables and trays, in addition to a wide assortment of typical souvenirs (little olive wood carved camels, red felt fezzes (hats), and small jars of rose water). As we walked through the narrow market streets (some of which were covered), sellers would call out to us to come "look, see". The game was them trying to guess our nationality. They would start with French, Dutch, English and on and on until they were stumped. When we finally said we were Americans, the universal response was a huge smile and a thumbs up signal. It seems there are very few American tourists in Tunisia. It might have something to do with the fact that Tunisia is located between Algeria and Libya! It is a pity because not only is Tunisia a fascinating country with great food and art, but Tunisians are probably the most consistently friendly and kind people we have ever encountered. Again and again, no matter what little problem we faced, people were wonderfully helpful.
Another day trip we took was to the hillside town of Sidi Bou Said, perched overlooking the ocean about 20 miles west from Tunis. Sidi Bou Said was a mystic in the 13th century and settled here near the ocean. Then in the 18th century the Husseinid "beys" (or nobles) made Sidi Bou their summer resort. A beautiful Mediterranean village with white houses and walls and wonderful nail studded blue doors (see our photos), Sidi Bou has continued to attract the wealthy, who have summer homes here. Unfortunately, it also attracts bus-loads of day-tripping tourists, which in turn has spawned tacky tourist shops all along the main winding street. Anzie and I, hoping to escape the hoards, wandered further up through little lanes towards the top of the village and discovered a lovely hotel, far from the maddening crowd. Hotel Dar Said is a 150 year old mansion built around a lovely courtyard with each room unique and elegant. We sat next to the pool overlooking the sea, and had a Casse Croute sandwich (the Tunisia equivalent of a Sub with tuna, veggies, olives and hot relish - yum), with birds the only sound. We contemplated spending our last night there, but at $250 it was a little beyond our reach (Jackie Kennedy stayed there!). We finally left the calm and went down to the Café des Nattes (see photos), a typical Turkish café with straw mats and hookahs (and tourists). We were lucky enough to get an outside table overlooking the village and had mint tea with pine nuts, before returning to Hammamet.
Since the weather was erratic with cold wind and occasional rains, we decided to leave our beach hotel 2 days early to head to the sunny south. Stay tuned for Roman ruins, mountain oases, a ride on a 1912 royal train through a mountain pass, and Anzie's Tunisian family.
28th
Finally, the last installment re Tunisia! We did Tunisia in early May, but a lot has happened. Chuck is working full time at the Embassy now, and has been since mid-June. Even though he enjoys working in real estate - as a buyer, not a seller - he misses those four-day weekends. His son Pete just left after a two-month stay. He had an absolutely wonderful time: made a lot of friends - both Senegalese and ex-pats, did some work for the Embassy; saw a lot of Senegal. In his words: "A life-changing experience!" He now plans to get his degree with the ultimate goal of working in Foreign Service. Go for it, Pete!!
Anne is still traveling like I used to travel, except that she ranges through seven countries.
Travels with Anzie - Part 27: Tunisia
Meet the Chebbi family. They're part of the reason we decided to visit Tunisia in the first place. You see, Anzie was a Peace Corps Volunteer in Tunisia way back in '72-'74. For two years she taught English in a high school in the small town of Gafsa, an oasis in southern Tunisia. During that time she lived in an apartment which was part of the Chebbi family home, and became very close with the 4 sisters. Ours was partially a nostalgia trip. Anzie wanted to re-visit places that she hadn't seen in 30 years. I wanted to see Tunisia through her eyes.
Kairouan
The road to Gafsa led through the holy city of Kairouan. Founded in the 7th century, it was the first base for the conquering Arab armies from the East. Many legends surround Kairouan. The most famous is that of Okba ibn Nafi, a companion of Mohamed, who arrived in the year 671upon this barren flat plain. His horse tripped over a golden goblet that had been lost in Mecca (the holy city of Islam). When Okba picked up the cup, water flowed from it directly from the sacred spring of Zemzem in Mecca, or so he claimed. Hence the beginning of Kairouan's religious fame, making it the 4th most holy city in Islam. It is also Tunisia's most famous carpet-making city, which leads to how we came to stop there.
About 10 miles outside of the city we came upon a man standing next to a stopped car waving wildly to us to stop. Since he was standing in the middle of the road, we had no choice. He explained that he was with his cousin whose car had broken down. They pleaded with us to take him into Kairouan so he could get help. He was a friendly, chatty young man who said that his family was one of the larger carpet manufacturers in the city. He guided us to his father's store, and insisted we come in to partake in a glass of tea as a thank you. So we were escorted into a large room with hundreds of hand woven carpets ranging from 2' x 3' to 15' by 24'. The aim we surmised was to sell us something. Anzie kept a remarkable and surprising constraint (as you who have seen the many Tunisian carpets in our house will understand), and we got away with only an interesting lecture on the many different types and designs of rugs.
The two main types are the hand knotted carpets (a specialty of Kairouan) and the flat woven Mergoums. The latter are woven and embroidered simultaneously and are a common site in Tunisian homes. The knotted carpets are classified by the number of knots per square meter, the higher the number the finer and more expensive the rug. Originally, the Tunisian carpet did not exceed 40,000 knots per square meter (20x20 texture). Today however, some Tunisian carpets reach 250,000 knots (50x50 texture) with the most frequent textures being "30x30" or "40x40". There are also knotted rugs made from silk - beautiful, but incredibly expensive due to the high number of knots per rug. Initial price quoted on a 2.5 x 3.5 ft. silk model ran $3000.00. Though a commercial site, you can find more info about Tunisian rugs here. The carpets are woven by young women and girls, often in their homes. This store had 120 women working for them! There was a woman working in the store who tried to teach Anzie how to do the knots, without much success!
Sufetula
We finally extracted ourselves from the rug store and continued the route that took us through the town of Sbeitla, the site of the ancient Roman city of Sufetula. Though the farthest major site from Carthage, it is one of the best preserved, as no modern city was ever built over it. Founded in 3rd century BC and located in what was once a rich olive and grain area, it was a prosperous city in the 2nd & 3rd centuries, until overrun by the Arabs in 647 AD. We found temples to the Roman gods as well as the remains of a Christian church. Though neither of us is really into ruins, Sbeitla had so many buildings and mosaics in good shape we could imagine what it must have been like in ancient times. (See the photos of Roman Tunisia).
Gafsa
Arrived in Gafsa, the small town where Anzie's history with the Peace Corps began over 30 years ago. Lo and behold, it's no longer a small town but a thriving city (pop.70,000). Anzie taught in the town's only high school. The town now has 14 high schools! Tough to find a good hotel here. We stopped at the Hotel Gafsa (2 stars) and looked at a couple of rooms. Forgedaboudit!! It's the kind of place where you expect to find plastic sheets and hot pillows. We finally ended up at the Hotel Maamoun located right smack in the center of town. Our room was adequate -- clean with adjoining bath. The air conditioner worked -- sort of. At least it made enough noise to drown out most of the noise blasting from the nightclub (only male customers with a Tunisian woman belly dancer) located one floor below.
The personnel were all very friendly and helpful, especially the bellman. Mahmoud was a giant of a man and a deaf mute. We nicknamed him Mr. Clean because of his bald head and giant biceps. He could carry five heavy suitcases up three flights of stairs without breathing hard. He was always there to help us and we looked funny doing sign language, but he always seemed to understand. We parked our car along the busy street outside the hotel. Every morning we found our car freshly washed.
After checking in we drove around town searching for the house that Anzie lived in, a difficult task since the town had mushroomed. Amazingly we found it after only a half-hour's search. The man who ran the small shop next door told us that the Chebbi family still lived there. Since no one was home we left a note with the grocery man saying that we would return later on that evening. When we did return we discovered that the youngest of the four sisters still lived in the house with her children. Within 15 minutes the rest of the family gathered, including two other sisters, their children and even a grandchild. . Note: no husbands attended this reunion.
On a sad note, Anzie discovered that the fourth sister, Fadilla, who was her best friend when she lived there, had died the previous year in a very freak accident. She was standing on a chair cleaning a light fixture when she fell, and suffered internal injuries that proved fatal. Fadilla was the second oldest sister. The oldest was allowed to go to school and became a primary school teacher (she is now principal of the same school), but Fadilla had to leave school after 6th grade to stay home and help her mother take care of the younger children. She was very bright and filled with laughter, and maintained her French by reading magazines - an amazing feat for a 6th grade educated woman in an arabic language environment. Anzie always believed that Fadilla was born at the right time in the wrong place, or the wrong time in the right place.
We spent about two hours catching up and reminiscing. We were invited back for dinner the following night.
Le Lezard Rouge
The next day we took the "Lezard Rouge", or Red Lizard, train out of Metlaoui into the mountains. This experience grew out of another lucky happenstance. One of the managers at the Hotel Mehari, where we stayed in Hammamet, had an uncle who managed the train. He called his uncle, and got us two free tickets for the two-hour trip. Originally used by the "bey" - Turkish ruler - the train consists of original 19th century carriages, including the bey's private car, which is restored in red leather and velvet. Metlaoui is the center of Tunisia's phosphate-mining industry. We took the two-hour trip on the track that led up to a large, isolated, working mine. The train wound through the Seldja gorge and climbed steadily until we were 7000 ft. higher than our starting point. The train was packed with tourists, primarily French, who seemed to be all based in the town of Tozeur, located on the edge of the Sahara. I remember wondering why anyone would ever vacation in such a desolate spot.
Mountain Oases
We arrived back in Metlaoui just in time for lunch. We stopped at a restaurant and ate a "cassecroute", a sub filled with "salade nicoise" , olives and hot sauce. Our stomachs pleasantly full and our mouths burning, we headed off to the mountains. Every town we passed through Anzie would exclaim, "I think I had a student from here!" Our first stop was Mides, a working oasis village surrounded on three sides by a 200 feet deep gorge - a location that was easily defensible against marauding Arabs. Mides lies only two kms. from the Algerian border, which was as close as we wanted to get. You can walk the gorge for 10 kms. to the next oasis, Tamerza. Anzie and I elected to get back into our air-conditioned car to make the trip. Since time was fleeting we chose to drive slowly through this large mountainside oasis, known for its waterfalls.
Our real destination was Chebika. Approaching this site over the mountains we saw our first chott, or salt flats. These are the remains of what was once an inland sea. The Mediterranean lies 400 kms. to the east. We stopped the car to walk over the flats for a bit. The ground was covered with salt crystals that crunched under our sandals. Not a place to walk barefoot.
Chebika rests in a cleft between two mountainsides. This picturesque oasis remained isolated from "modern civilization" until midway into the 20th Century. The book, "Change at Chebika", written by social anthropologist Jean Duvignaud, documents what happened as "modernity" entered this traditional society.
Throughout the day we passed many whitewashed, domed structures that dotted the landscape. Though I mistook them for small houses, my know-it-all traveling companion informed me that they are actually the burial places of marabouts, or religious leaders. Many towns are named after famous marabouts, and all bore the prefix Sidi.
The Real Desert
We decided to see why so many French tourists were attracted to Tozeur. We journeyed across barren wastes and salt flats, spotting an occasional small oasis marked by a few palm trees until we reached Tozeur. The most distinctive characteristic of the town is thousands of date palms. The town's importance stems from its huge date harvest. The government has spent a lot of dinars to make it a tourist center with an international airport. We passed, or were passed, by countless 4 x 4's carrying various day-trippers on tours of the area. As it was close to the end of a long day, and we had a dinner date with the Chebbi family, we spent all of 15 minutes touring the town. It consists of three main streets. Not much to see: patterned brickwork, women covered head to foot in black, and one great pastry shop. We stopped here to buy dessert for the night's dinner chez Chebbi. The shop owner was very welcoming. He allowed us to try several free samples before we made a purchase. We bought several manouds -- diamond-shaped pastries filled with nuts and honey.
The next day we headed for Matmata, the land of the underground dwellers. See Travels - Part 25.
Tataouine
After a good breakfast at our underground hotel, Diar el Barbar, we headed south and east. The countryside was pockmarked with pit dwellings until we began climbing into the mountains. Here the road turned from blacktop to "Under Construction". The hairpin turns on a narrow, loose gravel-based glorified goatpath made the going a bit dicey.
We finally arrived at the top of a mesa with a beautiful panorama of a mountainside village below, Toujane, and behind it the plains spreading out to the sea. We partook of some tamarind tea with a old (probably Chuck's age), toothless man who sold crafts out of his tent on the overlook. Toujane spreads across two sides of a gorge. Anne thought it a rather dreary place when she passed through many years ago, until she discovered the carpets. They are produced in such vibrant colors that they spoke to her of the exuberant life force that hid behind the façade of gray and beige rock.
We just missed a rockslide as we descended into the village. At the base of the gorge we turned left instead of right. We only went about 100 feet when we realized that the main road lay on the other side of the gorge. As we turned the car around we heard a rumble. To the right of the gorge, just where we would have been had we taken the right turn, a number of huge boulders fell onto the road. The road was "Under Construction", which was probably what caused the rockslide. No one was hurt, and we were able to wind our way through and over the rubble. The village was one house wide, carved out of the mountainside.
We continued on to Medenine, a fairly substantial town. Even had an ATM machine. The ubiquity of these machines has made traveling so much easier. Gone are the days when you constantly searched for some outlet that would cash your travelers check. Plus, the charge is very minimal -- only a point or two on the exchange rate. Worth the convenience!
But I digress. At one time, Medenine was a central market town that boasted of its 8000 ghorfas (See Travels - Part 25.) All we can remember it for is an ATM machine that worked and an excellent chicken sandwich. This terrace café, Ksour Meshouia, located right on the main drag, tailor-made the sandwiches to our exacting specifications. Of course this included harisa, a roasted red pepper sauce that can range from mildly piquant to singe-your-uvula.
We continued South toward Tataouine, stopping to visit ksars, ghorfa granary structures, like Ksar Hadad, a scene of the 1997 movie "Phantom Menace" - Ksar el Hencha - huge, well-preserved assemblage of ghorfas - and Chenini - a village of cave dwellings carved out of a mountain. ( See Travels - Part 25)
Our destination was the Hotel Sangho, located just northwest of Tataouine. This three-star hotel is surprisingly elegant. It's comprised of tasteful bungalow rooms surrounded by gardens, and full facilities, including a large pool. (see our photos) The decorations include photos from WWII, the German occupation, and artillery shell casings side by side with fossils -- an eclectic collection. The Sangho was so peaceful and relaxing that we stayed an extra night.
Tataouine is the last town of any size before you hit the Sahara. It's a market town. Vendors spread their wares out on the ground of a large square -- spices, pottery, leather goods, etc. We bought a pretty little prayer rug at Ali Baba's Carpet Boutique. This will go to friend Maggie for service above and beyond. When we went to pick up our rental car upon our arrival in Tunis, I realized that I had forgotten my driver's license. We called Maggie, who retrieved the license from our car at our house, had it copied and faxed to the car rental agency within an hour and a half. Thank you Maggie!!!
We became fiends with Ali Baba after we bought the rug. He made us some mint tea. When Anne asked him for a cadeau, a gift, he gave us a nice-sized rose de sable, or sand rose. It's a brown crystalline rock formation that really resembles a petrified flower. The roses are formed from rising ground water, rich in salt, that crystallizes when the water evaporates. Comprised primarily of gypsum, it derives its brown color from the entrapped sand. (The Rough Guide to Tunisia 2001 Edition, p. 325)
By the way, Anzie's asking for a gift may seem a trifle cheeky to you. However, the vendors don't seem to mind it. It serves to acknowledge that we paid too much for our purchase and that we except that fact. Also, It probably gives them an opportunity to off-load some slow-moving merchandise. We selected our rose from a huge pile of them that lay in the middle of a courtyard.
Ali directed us to the Restaurant Essendabad for lunch. Located across the street from the bus station, it was packed. I can't remember what we ate, but it was good. The atmosphere was fantastic.
That afternoon we headed south into the desert. In just a few miles we reached the mountains. We were surprised to find a few little villages, complete with more cave dwellings. We passed by many ksour -- that's the plural of ksar -- those ghorfa constructions. Most of them were in varying states of decay. After 25 kms. we arrived at our destination -- Ksar Ouled Soltane. Not only is this one of the largest -- ghorfas rise four stories high -- but it is the best preserved. These ghorfas are still in use to store grain and olive oil. So, both the ghorfas and the way of life are still intact.
Tunisia's interesting dwellings
The Land of the Lotus Eaters
The next day we headed for the island of Jerba, or Djerba. According to legend Ulysses anchored here and sent a contingent ashore to check out the locals. The natives fed them leaves of the lotus plant, after which none of them wanted to leave. Ulysses had to send another group to drag the first contingent back to the ship, where they were placed in irons. We didn't find any lotus leaves, but the drinks were pretty fair.
On the way we passed by the Mareth Line of WWII fame. It was here that the German push into Africa under the leadership of Rommel, the "Desert Fox", was stopped by Allied forces. We found a graveyard of rusting German army tanks. We stopped to explore, and discovered a wasp nest inside an engine compartment. While I paused to relieve myself Anzie performed the "Dance of the Stinging Wasps". Ask Anzie about it, but not while I'm around. (Now for my side of the story…. Here I am with one or more wasps trapped in my windblown hair, stinging me. I'm batting at my head trying to get rid of them, screaming for help, while Chuck stands there peeing, then zipping up, all the while looking at me and laughing. Now I know it was a delicate moment for him, but did he have to zip before helping me????)
But, I (we) digress ….
The island of Djerba is connected to the mainland by a 7 km-long causeway - over four miles. The story goes that in 1551, Dragut the pirate, trapped with his fleet by the flotilla of Charles V of Spain between the causeway and the fort, made his famously daring naval getaway here. To gain time, he barricaded himself in the fort and held off the Spaniards while his men, under the cover of darkness, dug through the causeway, enabling his fleet to escape into the Gulf. The causeway wasn't repaired until over 400 years later. It was reopened in 1953. (The Rough Guide to Tunisia, 2001 edition, p. 377)
The island is a beach resort paradise. Large white hotels dot the Northern and Eastern coastlines like pearls on a necklace. We stayed at the Fiesta Beach, an all-inclusive. It's a sprawling complex that contains four restaurants, a pool the size of a small lake, including the de rigeur swim-up bar, tennis courts, nightclub, bocce court, etc. We were back in the land of bare ta-tas!!
We spent two days here allowing our flesh to recuperate from the desert. We didn't leave the compound. Both of us were feeling sick, so we just sat, swam, read and ate.
Each night the hotel put on a different show. On our second night the theme was "Tunisian Folklore". The staff was outfitted ala "1001 Arabian Nights". Chuck finally got to wear his bou-bou that we had been dragging around for two weeks. It was a hit. Several people came up to ask if he was Muslim.
Back to Tunis
The next day we headed off to Tunis - 600 kms. We cruised through Houmt Souk, a market town that people said offered some worthwhile tourist sights. We stopped at El Ghriba Synagogue, supposedly the oldest synagogue in the world. In 1990 a truck parked outside the synagogue filled with explosives. The explosion killed 20 tourist, mostly Germans. The lines of tourists were long, and we had a 600 km. trip ahead of us, so we elected to bypass this tour.
We took the ferry from the island. Five hours later we arrived in Tunis, suffering only one mishap. A stone from a passing truck put a good-sized ding in our windshield. We weren't looking forward to fessing up to this one at our car rental agency. We stayed at the Carleton Hotel, on Avenue Bourguiba. The Avenue reminded us of the Champs Elysées, a wide boulevard bordered by toney shops, hotels and sidewalk cafés. The best thing the Carleton has going for it is location. We were tired from our trip. Chuck was coming down with a fever, so we went to bed early.
El Bardo and the Medina Still feeling lousy, Chuck stayed in bed the next morning. Anne visited the El Bardo Museum. Housed in the palace of a bey, it is famous for its collection of ancient African/Roman mosaics. (See photos). Whereas the Romans decorated their walls with paintings and their floors with black and white mosaics, wall paintings were never popular here. These mosaics were the Persian rugs of the ancient world.
That afternoon Chuck was able to arise and partake of light nourishment. We visited the Medina, the old town that included the huge souk. Just outside the souk a pleasant gentleman introduced himself saying that this was the last day of the special exhibit at the "carpet museum". Would we like to go? We said "Yes", and off we went from one end of the souk to the other. On the way we mentioned that Chuck was looking for a new chechia, the small round fez-like cap worn by muslims. He took us to a covered street of shops where we watched them make these caps. We learned how felt was made. Chuck bought a white one that he has worn several times since.
We continued on to the "museum", only to discover that it was a rather large carpet shop similar to the one we had visited in Kairouan. We spent about 15 minutes touring the store, then begged our leave. The best part was our tour of their rooftop terrace, which gave us a panoramic view of the Medina.
Undaunted, our "tour guide" took us back through the souk to his brother's shop, where he sold fragrances. We smelled a few, and Anzie decided upon a bottle of jasmine oil. The vendor had it wrapped and boxed in a nanosecond. Then we asked the price: $30. for a tiny vial! Anzie was only going to buy this unnecessary as a sort of "thank-you" to the tour guide for his time, but the price was excessive. As we turned to leave the price came down to $25. Still too much! We took our leave to a chorus of Arabic mutterings (probably obscene). Was it our imagination or were the vendors more aggressive as we walked through the souk without our guide? Still, they were absolute teddy bears compared to their counterparts in Dakar.
Before we left the souk we bought a brass plate each for Amadou and Omar, the other members of our family. The plates had the phrase "Allah Is Great" done in Arabic in raised brass letters.
That night, our last in Tunisia, we decided to splurge on a really nice meal, even though Chuck's tummy wasn't up for much. We dined at the Dar el Hadj, an exquisite former private home with walls covered with decorative tiles, located in the Medina. The food and the service were very good. Chuck drank three glasses of strawberry juice, which seemed to calm his stomach. One young apprentice waiter kept calling Chuck "Father". The older waiter explained that the young man liked Chuck very much, and hoped that Chuck would adopt him as his son. Just what Chuck needs, another son. "How come some nubile 18-year old doesn't ask me to adopt her?", says the dirty old man.
Going Home
Our last morning we checked out and drove to the airport. We checked our bags, haggled with the car rental agency about the damaged windshield, then awaited the arrival of Insaf's parents. Insaf Dobberstein is a friend who works at the Dakar embassy. A Tunisian, she asked us to contact her parents in Tunis. We arranged to meet them at the airport to carry a package back to Dakar. We had met Insaf's mother, Lea, in Dakar; so we recognized each other. She introduced us to her husband, Moussa, then showed us the package. We were expecting something that we could carry onto the plane. This cardboard box was the size and weight of a case of apples. We explained that we had already checked our bags. Lea says, "no problem," and waves to a lady in a Tunis Air uniform. Turns out to be her niece. Five minutes later we have a baggage chit for the box, and we're on our way. But first we have drinks with Lea and Moussa. Moussa retired five years ago at age 55 as Director of Tunis Air. Now we knew why we were getting all this preferential treatment. They're a delightful couple whom we expect to see in the fall when they visit their daughter.
Casablanca
Hey, it's not over yet! On our return trip we have a seven-hour layover in the Casablanca, Morocco airport. By prearrangement we are met by Lisa and Ulrich Lunt. Lisa works for Peace Corps in Rabat. They took us on a tour of Casablanca -- the beach area, the Grand Mosque ( the second largest after Mecca), and Rick's Café. You remember the movie "Casablanca" with Bogie and Ingrid, Claude Rains, Peter Lorre, etc.? Well, this Rick's had just opened in March by an American lady, Kathy, who used to work at the American Consulate. She started from scratch with an old, rundown building, and, boy, did she get it right! The atmosphere is perfect -- right down to the Moroccan décor, the palms, the well-stocked bar, the man at the grand piano playing "As Time Goes By". The food was excellent, too. The price wasn't bad -- all you could eat for $300.00! I jest. But the prices were in line with a bistro in NYC.
We bid a fond adieu to Casablanca, Morocco and North Africa, and flew home with a year's supply of dates and olives. Oh, those olives!
À la prochaine,
Chuck & Anne
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