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  Around the Mediterranean Sea you’ll find the most intense blues, most often as doors, windows, gates and shutters.  It’s a way of inviting the sea and sky into the man-made spaces.  Of sharing the refreshing beauty, the coolness and the clarity. It’s a color both calming and invigorating, and I have a hard time passing a blue door without snapping a photo of it.

Here is Tunisia, I’m discovering another palette, the runs counterpoint to the Mediterranean blue and white, punctuated by bright blossoms of rich red and impossible pinks and corals that seem to glow from within.

It is the palette of Spices.  The rich earth tones of the spice merchant, that conjure up images of camel caravans and crowded souks.

Whether the full to bursting sacks of the souk in the Medina or the ceramic dishes  with their perfect conical hills of spices in carts near the seafront

The colors invoke heady scent-memories for anyone who has been here.  And both palettes come together in the traditional ceramics and carpets also on offer in souks and seafront marketplaces.

Beautiful carved stone post boa

I’ve been having some adventures with the Tunisian Postal Service of late . . .  it’s always a challenge dealing with the post in various countries, a kind of guessing game about the protocols and what to ask for and how to ask for it.

I mostly use email for my correspondence, but as a working artist with clients in other parts of the world, I do periodically need to interface with snail mail.  I have to say that the Tunisian Post  when sending abroad, at least, certainly lives up to the moniker snail mail.  So far I have sent 3 small flat parcels- one took 6 weeks to the US West coast, one took 4 weeks to Vienna, Austria, and the 3rd is still in transit going on 3 months ( suspect that one may be lost forever).  We shall see.

There is something called Rapide Post,  (affiliated with DHL and FedEx) which claims to take 3-4 days, worldwide, however their lowest fee is more than the price of some of my smaller watercolors–so it’s not terribly practical in those cases.

Going to my local post office, a 7-minute walk, is a true adventure, waiting times within the post office routinely start at 15 minutes and go up from there — my last foray took 45 minutes (not counting the walk on both directions.  The upside to all this (if there is one) is that standard mailing costs are incredibly cheap (less than 50 cents) I guess you get what you pay for, sort of.

Incoming mail fares better, so far it seems to take about 3 weeks from abroad.  One of the things I love about my walk to the post office is the assortment of really beautiful letter boxes set into the walls of the gardens along the way.

An artist friend dubbed them “shrines to the art of letter-writing” — that makes me smile whenever I walk down the residential streets here.  I don’t know how many letters actually pass through these portals, but the idea that someone cares enough about correspondence to create lovely receptacles for it, pleases me.

Friends write, bemoaning winter where they are.  They say things like “I bet you are so glad to be in Africa this winter”.  Newsflash:  it’s cold here too!

When most non-Africans (my pre-Tunisia self included) think of Africa we think of relentless heat in deserts and jungles, we think equatorial, SOUTH,  endless summer . . . in fact, the continent straddles the equator and encompasses numerous climate areas, and it is the only continent to stretch from the northern temperate to southern temperate zones.

Notice how the entire bulge of North Africa is well above the Equator.

To put it in a American Perspective, Sousse, Tunisia, where we live, is at the same latitude as Morro Bay, CA;  Albuquerque, NM;  Memphis, TN; or  Chapel Hill, North Carolina.

We spent the Christmas and New Year Holidays visiting good friends in Vienna, who had kindly stored some of our belongings during our protracted move to Tunisia via Greece.  We were delighted to be reunited with sweaters, warm woolly socks, cozy duvets and our hot water bottle.  We had no idea HOW fortuitous all that was until we returned home and our heating unit caught fire while trying to restart!

Tunisian houses are made to stay cool in the hottest of weather (upwards of 40C in the high summer) – unfortunately those same features work just as well to suck up any available heat in winter . . . and when there is NO heat, the inside of the house is often colder than the outdoors.  We have promises of heat being restored within the next few days (inshallah) meanwhile we muster our resources and take walks in the afternoon sun.

I’m certain that in a few months time we will be most grateful for the heat sucking properties of marble and tile, but right now, as the wicked winter wind rattles the shutters, our gratitude extends to woolly socks and sweaters,  hot water bottles, duvets and Berber blankets; along with pots of hot tea or cocoa and food made with harissa, which warm from the  inside out!

photo montage

A day in my Tunisian life . . .

I’ve been remiss in posting here, not because there is nothing to share, in fact, quite the opposite.  I’ve been busily settling in to some sort of regular rhythm of life here in North Africa, I can’t actually claim a routine, but a rhythm sort of works to describe my life here.

Because I am working totally freelance now, my schedule (if I can even call it that) is more like a loose framework of appointments and deadlines, with meandering space in between.

If I am close to consciousness, I hear the pre-dawn call to prayer, and use it as a mindfulness marker.  If I am snug in dreamland it often passes by without conscious notice despite living just a scant block from the nearest mosque.

I’m continuing to enjoy the lack of need for an alarm clock in my life.  My day can start when I am ready. If I’m up before 8, I can watch the neighborhood come to life, the bread is delivered to the greengrocer across the street about 7:30am, he unbuttons his stall around 8, after delivering his small son to school.

photo of greengrocer stallSince there are many schools in the neighborhood, the laughter and chatter of children fills the morning air.

By 9am industrious women are off to do their marketing to get the choicest veg and fruit, the freshest bread, and such . . . and I am enjoying my coffee and sorting out what needs to be done for the day.  I am ‘marketing’ for ideas.  Sometimes that sends me out on a walk of the neighborhood, and I snap up some of the fresh goodies too. But mostly my mornings are in my studio.

1pm is the traditional lunchtime here, children walk home from school, business people shut up small shops and offices and return home for lunch, the main meal of the day.  Bigger stores stay open, but you may find less staff on hand.

At 2pm life resumes, and this is most often when I take my break and finally leave the house.  Although I’m sure the housewives would not agree, I still find plenty of choice in the local markets if shopping is on my agenda.  I have time to run errands and get some sunlight and oxygen.  One of the things I am enjoying greatly is just going out for a daily stroll with my camera, snapping everything from graceful gates to urban chickens. When I remember to take this break, the rest of my day is so much more productive!

These days, I try to go whenever it is sunny, since the chance of grumpy weather is about 50%, taking advantage of the good days keeps me more content.

Around 4pm my time my clients and colleagues in the USA are waking up and settling in to their day, so this is the times for appointments online, email exchanges, and taking care of the business side of being a creative entrepreneur.

Around 8pm, Steve’s teaching day comes to a close and we can have dinner together and spend some time sharing the encounters of the day.  It’s a comfortable rhythm and the massive input of new and interesting is starting to filter into the artwork, bit by bit.  Life is good.

Graceful Gateways

Tunisian cities, like those in Mexico and Italy,  are filled with an amazing assortment of graceful gateways.  This is, in part, because in this climate much of life is enjoyed outdoors.  In order to keep the outdoor space private, everything has a wall, and a wall needs gates!

The gates in our neighborhood run the gamut from extraordinarily ornate:

to discreet and functional:

I love wandering the street with my camera, I know the local people wonder what I am up to . . . but the design elements are so inspiring I just can’t resist! Besides, I certainly don’t blend in, so I might as well stand out for a reason.

A very graphic, pen & ink style graces one corner, while across they street a more fanciful arabesque invites you in . . .

This one seems like it must lead to a secret garden . . .

and this one is simply regal . . .


October 23rd is Election Day in Tunisia  . . . the country that sparked the Arab Spring, where I now live, is about to hold the first free and open elections since the overthrow of the BenAli government, some say the first real elections in 53 years.

The political spectrum has gone from 9 to 108 political parties! The range of ideas and ideals is breathtaking under any circumstances, but in light of the lack of real choice for several generations, for some Tunisians it is mind-numbing. 45% of the candidate have listed themselves as Independent, refusing to align with any political party, which many here see as a sign that Tunisians are quite serious about taking control of their destiny.

bakery bag exhorts citizens to voteEven our local bakery has gotten into the act — this exhortation to vote came wrapped around some luscious cookies last week . . . it says(essentially)

because the Tunisian people have never had such an occasion to write history, because every citizen has in his hands the keys of his own destiny, we must unite in order not to miss this appointment with our History, more than ever let’s be players in our destiny. . .VOTE!

Can’t argue with that sentiment!

The new Assembly will have 217 members. The newly elected Constituent Assembly will also have the power to either appoint a new government or extend the current one’s term.  Senior party members of the disbanded former ruling party, the Constitutional Democratic Rally will be banned from standing in the election if they were in politics within the last ten years. Originally, the ban would have applied to all former senior party members (spanning 23 years instead of 10), but this was revised after protests by former RCD members who claim they left the party when it was clear that the party was unwilling to allow the opposition a voice in government

A few quick facts about the current situation for Tunisian women:

  • 26.6% of the workforce is female
  • Women held 27.6% of parliamentary seats in pre-revolutionary Tunisia
  • Tunisia is the only country in the Arab world where polygamy is forbidden by law
  • Half of the candidates on each party list in this election must be female
  • Women have, at least on paper, equality with men; there are currently no laws regarding dress, women are allowed to own property and businesses, vote, drive cars, get any type of education they desire.

The most ardent campaigners I have encountered have been women between 30 and 45.

Tunisians abroad will elect their representatives on 20–22 October 2011. Like expats of all stripes, they are expected to vote close to 90%– an interesting phenomenon that . . . seeing one’s country from the outside often makes voters care more about politics not less.

Wish Tunisia well. Wish the voters the clarity to really hear what is being said. Wish the election observers  and the independents the strength of their convictions. Wish the politicians the ability to LISTEN to the people. Wish for hope to prevail, and set a new standard for the world, an example that real change is possible.

Rooftop Reverie

It’s October 14, 2011. I’m sitting on our rooftop terrace in the late afternoon sun.  I’m wearing shorts and tank top, there’s just enough breeze up here to prevent it from being too hot to stay in the sun.  Although I have to stand on tip-toe to see the Sea from here, I can smell the sea air on the breeze, mingled with the scent of jasmine, as well as onion, garlic peppers and lamb bubbling up from a  neighbor’s kitchen.

The azure sky is dotted with wisps of gauzy white clouds.  Last week was blustery — alternating thunderstorms with dry days of sand blowing fitfully through the streets into hair, shoes, clothing . . .this is autumn in Tunisia –changeable

The rain comes in off the sea; clouds pile up, the sky darkens and thunder begins to roll — then a few drops followed by a downpour — rain so heavy you can’t see across the street.  Sometimes it rains for 10 minutes, sometimes it rains for several hours — and then it stops, as if someone turned off a tap — and the world is clean and refreshed.

In the markets, autumn means freshly ripened dates and pomegranates piled high, and of course the ubiquitous hot red peppers to be dried for harissa– the spicy hot paste made from pulverized peppers, garlic and olive oil.  It’s also time for huge pumpkins.  These are not the bright orange jack-o-lantern variety, but instead a pale orange-tan skinned globe, so large it takes two arms to encircle it.  Every greengrocer has one sitting on the counter, along with an enormous sharp knife, ready to slice off whatever size wedge you might desire.  The flesh is deep orange and slightly sweet, used here in soups, stews and tajines.  Last week I made a tasty pumpkin pilaf with rice, onions, garlic, blanched almonds, raisins and cinnamon — good for dinner OR breakfast!

We were delighted to find an Italian cheese shop yesterday and discover that, in addition to cheese, they also have salami and prosciutto . . . life is good . . . and even though the imported cheese is a bit expensive — it was half the price of the Parmigiano we found at Carrefour (which at 46 dinar for 200grams — about 23 euros/$30 — gave us complete sticker shock).  Fortunately we are finding that food in general is so relatively inexpensive, an occasional splurge on good Italian cheese won’t break the bank.

This morning we went to the Souk Sibt, the Saturday Market that starts early Friday morning. . . . but that’s a tale for another day.

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