The calls of the muezzin awoke me at 8.00pm in Tunis. My TV was still on, a CNN report on the Taureg resistance in the Sahara. They want 20-30% of all revenue generated from resource extraction in their traditional areas. Across my table streches a map of Tunis in French, on top of which are notes in Arabic to thank my host mother Myriam for her generosity and hospitality. She's wonderful, guiding me around the neighborhood in old Tunis (haven't seen another European descendant yet), walking me to get groceries and cleaning supplies, and then loaning me 20TDN for them when the ATM wouldn't accept my card. Her husband works for Tunisiair, and is currently in Saudi Arabia. I was also introduced to the sister who runs a sofa shop. Her toddlers are quite cute: Aziz is quiet so far, Noor insisted on giving me a kiss; and U'man is silent but curious. Interesting to compare the three with my Chinese cousin Ling Ling.
The air was cool, nearly cold in my room. I walked out into the warmer courtyard, three stories tall with an open balcony and white canvas roof. The pet turtle has moved six inches towards the stairs on the ground floor. In a week, the turtle and I will share the floor with a French and an Italian woman, including a good kitchen and 1.5 bathrooms. Outside it's nearly 80, but in the house cooled by shade and breeze its closer to 60. I'm wearing a sweater and a wool cap now as I type on this keyboard with its strange arrangement of letters.
The air was cool, nearly cold in my room. I walked out into the warmer courtyard, three stories tall with an open balcony and white canvas roof. The pet turtle has moved six inches towards the stairs on the ground floor. In a week, the turtle and I will share the floor with a French and an Italian woman, including a good kitchen and 1.5 bathrooms. Outside it's nearly 80, but in the house cooled by shade and breeze its closer to 60. I'm wearing a sweater and a wool cap now as I type on this keyboard with its strange arrangement of letters.
So far nothing but the kindest from people from London to Tunis. My uncle and aunt Rob and Barbara graciously put me up in their new apartment in London, the most international city I've visited. We laughed and shared stories, mostly centered around the wise and cheerful nature of their new son, Dillon II. He's got his grandpa's ears, mother's eyes, his father's broad smile, and refers to himself as "Ling-Ling," an odd pronunciation of Dill-on. Got some London sightseeing in, ate a great, full meal at a pseudo-Japanese resturaunt, and got to talk Eastern religious history with the toddler: one of his best words is "Buddha" for a giant statue my aunt and uncle bought in Thailand. Only wish I had spent more time, especially now with little to do but wait for roommates to arrive and the Institute to open.
Realizing very quickly how little Arabic I know, but that's why I am here, no? My apartment, west of Tunis' Belvedere Park, is a twenty minute walk to school, five to the local souk (market), and a ten minute taxi to the American embassy. I will go there soon, after finding a wall-converter for my electrical needs, and figuring out my bank problems, and make some inquiries. Monday, I go to the Bourguiba (bore-gee-ba) Institute and take a language exam.
I am feeing a little crazy. I've been scanning the satellite channels for anything and everything English - right now I'm watching Matrix Revolutions with Arabic subtitles. What the hell am I doing here? Myriam's nature has made my life devoid of stress, however, and I look forward to school and the activity and expansion it will bring.
She and Aziz met me at the airport, a tropical place with no English and no ban on smoking indoors. Lots of guards with big hats. Awoke mid-flight to a gorgeous sunlit Mediterranean, quickly fogged over, and sat next to two Arabic and French speaking twenty-somethings with whom I was too tired to converse. We spent a hot car ride (me trying to hide my skin art while not overheating) driving around Tunis, Myriam pointing locales out and arguing over traffic relations with other drivers. We pulled into a back alley, and she unlocked a big blue door in a white, unadorned wall. It lead into the courtyard I'm currently typing in, and I lugged my luggage into my clean, large room. Myriam gave me a tour - the upstairs where she lives is really nice and modern - and prepared me a Tunisian meal with a sausage soup, big hunks of French bread ('hobz), cucumbers, tomatos, corn and wonderful olives. My stomach, sadly, was ill-prepared, and I saved most of it for later.
Well, I guess this Matrix movie isn't going to finish itself. And I should probably be configuring some Arabic sentences for use in the market and within my new household. Keep in touch, friends, and please send this to any and all.
Salaam,
STMcNeil
Tunis, Tunisia. March 29, 2009
I am feeing a little crazy. I've been scanning the satellite channels for anything and everything English - right now I'm watching Matrix Revolutions with Arabic subtitles. What the hell am I doing here? Myriam's nature has made my life devoid of stress, however, and I look forward to school and the activity and expansion it will bring.
She and Aziz met me at the airport, a tropical place with no English and no ban on smoking indoors. Lots of guards with big hats. Awoke mid-flight to a gorgeous sunlit Mediterranean, quickly fogged over, and sat next to two Arabic and French speaking twenty-somethings with whom I was too tired to converse. We spent a hot car ride (me trying to hide my skin art while not overheating) driving around Tunis, Myriam pointing locales out and arguing over traffic relations with other drivers. We pulled into a back alley, and she unlocked a big blue door in a white, unadorned wall. It lead into the courtyard I'm currently typing in, and I lugged my luggage into my clean, large room. Myriam gave me a tour - the upstairs where she lives is really nice and modern - and prepared me a Tunisian meal with a sausage soup, big hunks of French bread ('hobz), cucumbers, tomatos, corn and wonderful olives. My stomach, sadly, was ill-prepared, and I saved most of it for later.
Well, I guess this Matrix movie isn't going to finish itself. And I should probably be configuring some Arabic sentences for use in the market and within my new household. Keep in touch, friends, and please send this to any and all.
Salaam,
STMcNeil
Tunis, Tunisia. March 29, 2009