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Dear Friends and Family, Just a short note right now to let you know where I am... Yes, in Africa. Tunisia to be exact. If you havent looked in a while Tunisia is on the north coast of Africa, just a 10 hour boat ride from the tip of Sicily. It is a small Muslim country of 9 million. I think this is the first place I have had much culture shock. I am in Africa, yes, but just as much in Arabia. In fact, this letter is taking a while to type since the keyboard is a bit funny, and all the keys have little Arabic squiggles written next to the roman letters. FYI one American dollar is about 1.5 Tunisian Dinar right now. To begin with, I am staying in a hotel for 5 dinar/night. Food in a resturant is 3 for a good meal. I usually buy a huge sandwich in the morning for 1 and snack throughout the day. But I wander from the subject, whatever it might have been... After my beautiful and relaxing time on Alicudi I rushed across the rest of Sicily in one day, having to spend the night in Trapani and finally leaving on the ferry at 10 pm. I slept on the deck in my sleeping bag, and arrived the next morning in Tunis. I was just wandering, and as I had met a Canadian on the ferry with a destination, I decided to just tag along. As it turns out, Quin was going to the World Junior Judo championships in Nabeul, about 40 miles from Tunis. We arrived at dark, not only because the track was narrow and we went slowly, but also because we didnt know about making the connection to Nabeul to avoid going to Sousse! I stood in a pile (it wasnt a line... the baby the lady behind me was holding kept kicking me in the back) for a 3 dinar ticket and made the dusty train with 5 minutes to spare. For the entire trip, we had no seats. On the first half we were in a baggage car, and on the second in the small space between two cars. This is quite normal, and we were not alone. The doors on the cars did not shut, and I think perhaps they would not shut. This made the ride dusty and windy at times, but afforded an excellent panoramic view. As we went we saw children tilling fields with horses, brightly clothed women tending flocks of sheep, and donkey carts waiting at crossings next to one-cylynder motorcycles and the ever-present "louash." A louash, as I was soon to find, is a shared taxi. They begin at a kind of station with a destination, and when 5 people are ready to go, they leave. Kind of like a cross between a bus and a taxi. And so we arrived in Nabeul. Quin was unsure of the hotel, but after only one false start, we found his friends and the bouncy "hockey mom" of the group, Wilma. That was my first time in a 4 star hotel, and I found that my sleeping bag is just as warm on the balcony there as anywhere else. After two days of Judo, which I can only describe as wrestling, but without the falling down part, I was itching to go. I had enjoyed myself, but been well shielded from the culture. I got on a train that evening to arrive about 8pm in El Jem, which I picked because I saw it on a postcard and it looked nice. The ride on the train was interesting, as I was riding with a few university students who could speak English. English is quite rare here, much more than French or even Italian. Often the Tunisian greeting is "youre welcome," and it is true. Although in some places, and now because of the fighting in Israel, there is some animosity against Americans, in general the Tunisians seem to be the most generous and friendly people I have met. They push tourism, and sometimes a tourist gets cheated (twice so far, but not too bad), but the problems are made up for by their better qualities. El Jem is home to a colosseum about half the size of the one in Rome. Although it is smaller, one is allowed to climb wherever one wants, making it more interesting. I was quite impressed, although after buying spices (I got swindled out of a dinar with a coin trick here) I was ready to leave. I was going to attempt hitching, but got diverted by a couple helpful guys and put into a louash, which is a very good way to go. The most stressful part of being here is the language barrier, and it is made more difficult by the people speaking Arabic and French, and then attempting any other language they know (if only a few words) when French doesnt work. They use many hand signs, but none of them are familiar, and at best this is confusing. I have even learned to count on my fingers using my thumb first, as they do here. Despite all this, I arrived in "the gateway to the Sahara," Douz, at sunset. My new friends from the louash directed me to the cheapest hotel in town, the Hotel Essasa, where I now reside. I have decided to stay until the festival here, which is November 8. I had decided that I would ride a camel, and the locals were accomodating, as I was immediately offered a ride into the desert and a onenight camp out there. I was probably swindled, but where else can you ride a camel, sleep in a bedouin tent, and have everything provided for 2 days for only 50 US dollars? I was joined by a French family, a German woman, and another from Zurich. We left in the evening, and the heat was not bad. We arrived at the rough-sewn black tents at sunset, and ate a meal of the traditional food, couscous with lamb. The fire flickered into the night as drums and ancient songs sounded longingly over the desert. We played games and told stories into the night, and when we finally crawled into the sleeping bags the stars glittered through the chill of a desert night. After a breakfast of desert bread, which is cooked directly in the sand and ashes and comes out amazingly clean, the rest departed, and myself and one guide took a camel into the desert for the heat of the day. I learned to wear a turban that day, and was glad for it. I have learned many things since then... a bit of Arabic, a lot about generosity, and to watch out if a little kid picks up a rock. I eat dates and drink the strong desert tea, and this afternoon played rummy with boys from the desert. Last night I wanted to go home... its is lonely and overwhelming here, but I will stay. I got a bit of Sahara sand to bring home. K.S, dont worry, there is plenty of sand! Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers... I love you all, -Dustin |