So what happened? Well, I was, as usual on weekdays, sitting in the bus home, when a rather chunky guy sat down next to me. So there he sat, with his legs widely spread, and I was trying to limit all body contact by squeezing myself so much that I almost only sat on the half of my seat. I also buried my nose in my book, but there was no escape. Right at the first moment, when I displayed my poor knowledge of the Arabic language by saying „thank you“ to the ticket inspector, the guy seized the opportunity and started to talk to me. After having complimented me about my super Arabic skills, he went on to talk about Ramadan (do you fast?), to then trying to convince me that the way Muslims fast is beneficial for the health (eeeer, I don’t think so). And then, eventually, he obviously asked my for my number.

But the thing is, that I just didn’t want to give him my number. I am not longing for a fat guy calling me up day and night… and then being deceived that I don’t want to see him! So I thought of a nasty trick… I told him that I did not own a mobile phone, since it had been stolen recently on the beach. Well, part of the story is true, it happenend only a little earlier during my stay. But because I don’t want to be sooo mean after all, I grap my bag in order to look for a pen… and this is when he sees my mobile phone in my bag, and says…“… but there is a phone, you lied!“ Errr, yeah right, that is not very Christian indeed, but you know what, I just don’t want to give you my number, I said. But I took his number and told him that I would call him when I felt like it.  Oh man… that was bad. I never got caught in such a miserable lie. As we say in Germany… it’s the little sins that the Lord punishes on the spot.

This is already the second time that I am in a Muslim country during Ramadan, the first time being Bangladesh in 2004. But wow, what difference despite all the obvious resemblances. First of all, this has to do with myself… because I have grown a little older and nowadays understand much better what is going on. I think that I only recently learned that Muslims don’t drink during Ramadan. I think that I used to drink quite openly in Bangladesh, but I am not sure. It’s always like that, soon after you learn something, you take it for granted. So maybe I was aware of it at that time, but maybe I wasn’t.

Another interesting difference is that Iftar (the breaking of the fast) here in Tunisia is a private affair. People gather with their families around the table, sharing a soup, briks (an egg wrapped in thin pastry and fried), and many other things. As a consequence, all restaurants are closed during the day (what would they serve anyway?) and only some cafés open up later after sunset to offer some distraction, like coffee and the obligaroty shisha.

In Bangladesh, this was completely different. Actually, many people would eat Iftar outside the house and therefore take it in local restaurants. As a consequence, these restaurants wouldn’t close at all, but are very busy during the day preparing all the food stuff they would sell in the evening. And they would do it on the streets! So actually there would be the smell of food all over the country during the day, to the annoyance of all (at least I guess). Voilà, these are some thoughts concerning the differences of celebrating Ramadan in two Muslim countries!

Da Box

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___________________________

Mission: save C.A.T.

Specialist: The Vet

Weapons: non-lethal injection and a carton box

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Briefing

First there was the sound, a scratching sound. It seemed that it was closeby, but it wasn’t familiar. Then we heard another sound. Not crying, but definitely begging for something. Was it something we could and want to give? Then we saw the face, and what a cuty she was. For days she kept loyal to the balcony. Almost unresistable she kept asking for attention. We started with giving water, than the canned food, until we even got the leftovers from the fish shop. Did they know we are having her on the balcony or is it just chance. We tried to keep distance for the disease, but how futile that was. Now she opened our hearts and are we on mission to the specialist, aka The Vet. For future references we had to give a name; Cardea Adonia Thiyya, but is best know for the acronym C.A.T.

Update @ 18:07

Mission is accomplished, we have given the vaccin and succeeded in returning subject.
Food appears to be a good tranquilizer.

Da Box

So you have this crazy heat. Apparently the temperature is going to rise up to 40°C these days. People like me then forget to drink and wonder why they feels dizzy once they leave the air conditioned office. Because it’s so cold in there, I simply don’t feel the need to drink a lot. But I’ll get used to it insha’allah.

Last weekend wasn’t a weekend for me after all, because a partner organisation organised a summer school and I was there to represent the FES. Actually, it wasn’t the first conference I went to, and it is interesting to observe the tourists in these hotels where they take place. Oh yeah, well, I am so elitist that I never ever spend a summer in a hotel next to the beach (another reason may be that my family is rather a „mountain-familiy“ than a „beach-family“). So you see all these people in this hotel, dressing absolutely inappropriately (without bra, running around in the lobby only wearing a bikini… extended living room, quoi!). Then you have great buffets with nice food (or not so nice… in the cheaper hotels). And people just hanging around doing nothing all day. Fascinating!

Another good thing of these conferences is, that you always get to know interesting people. So I met some interesting professors and, yeah… other interns of other organisations. Hahaha. Sciences Po people, even worse. We are simply everywhere, there is no escape possible. So I met David, and we met again yesterday, when we went to Sidi Bou Said, one of the most touristy places in Tunisia. Well, there are dozens of groups of tourists running the streets up and down. But of course, a part from the crazy tourist shops it is definitely worth it. There are beautiful houses and an amazing view on the sea. As you see on the pictures.

So we took a so-called „louage“, which is a little bus which does not leave the bus station regularly but waits until the bus is full. The busses are renowned for being rather dangerous because the drivers drive in a rather crazy way… but in the end, I have seen worse in other places, for example in Bangladesh, so… no worries. I’ve been close to death so often that I didn’t mind this time.

It is always a revelation to leave the big cities and to go to the close countryside. When you leave Tunis, you first cross a region marked by great plains – corn fields. They have already been harvested and there are huge pyramids of straw pressed in cubes. I saw people working on the fields, storks in the nests on power poles… and then we entered a completely different landscape. Suddenly, hills covered with trees appeared. I somehow felt like being in Switzerland.

The village itself is picturesque. Very different in shape because at some point the French bombed it and it had to be completely rebuilt. So it actually looks much more like a cute little French Mediterranean village than a Tunisian one. In this sense Tabarka is unique in the region and therefore nice to visit. In addition, the village organizes numerous festivals during the summer months, and we came for the first concert of this year’s Jazz festival.

The Jazz festival is the most famous festival of Tabarka and the concert was great. It actually takes place in a Roman theater, and they have Tunisian as well as international artists. However, I have to admit that I missed the first part because I was terribly tired, having slept only a few hours the night before and then being exhausted from the trip (silly me actually preferred to read instead of sleeping like Jessica). She then bought some Coke and that made it all a little easier. We then slept in a cute little “pension familiale“ with flower pots in the court yard and a weird guy in our room. Well. In the end neither the flower nor the guy ate us and Jessica and I safely made it back to Tunis. But I am looking forward to return to this place when Marcel is here.

So the apartment. My first week here was a little crazy… I slept the first nights in the Youth Hostel, but got soon sick of it. It is actually a very nice building located in the Old City, and in order to get there from the main street, you need to go by the little streets of the souk. Which was a little complicated the first day when I had to carry all my stuff including my huge suitcase (it was very full because I left my apartment in Paris in a hurry and stuffed all my things in there that were still in my apartment).

I then after four nights left the Youth Hostel because it rather difficult to go to work from there. I then crashed on the couch of a Couchsurfer for a few days, who, however, lived in a quarter even more remote. They have a rail system here whose trains greatly ressemble the ones in German cities (because they are equally produced by Siemens) and which I take quite often. However, when I stayed with my friend in Den Den (at the end of line 4), it took me 1 h30 to go to work… one way of course. So that kinda sucked. Really.

So I was very happy when I found this apartment here through another Couchsurfer. She and her roommate left for the US for the summer and so I somehow am their housekeeper. The advantage of this apartment is that there is a direct bus connection to La Marsa, where I work (I live in Tunis). So I generally go to the bus station at 7h15 to be at work at 8. And I pay around 240 Euros rent per month.

So I guess that’s all about my general situation here. I will later write about my short trip to Tabarka, a cute village in the north of Tunisa, this weekend.

Well, in the end I made it on time, and guess what, the plane was late, and full. There were a lot of families with small children and so the flight was quite vivid, to say the least. I then took a bus from the airport and went on to look for my youth hostel. Suddenly, one of those Tunisian guys proposed to help me with my quest, obviously he didn’t have a clue either, but this does not discourage a man of honnor Well well well, since then Monsieur doesn’t stop to give me missed calls (I told him that I was not going to take them anyway because it’s expensive). Errr, because I was a little annoyed, I just send him an SMS explaining politely that I appreciated his help yesterday but that I am „engaged in a serious relationship“ and that my boyfriend is going to join me here. I hope the guy is not going to squat in front of the youth hostel! :O

P.S. I just received a message from the guy saying that he understood, just friends, and that he would like to invite me to have coffee tomorrow morning… I don’t know yet whether I am going to or not. Strange people are out there.

Presently I am in Brussels and I enjoy walking around in this great city. Unfortunately, the weather is not good, but rainy… as usual in Brussels. But I just don’t care. Yesterday I went on a „comic walk.“ Here in Brussels, there are numerous houses which are decorated with huge paintings depicting comic heros. So I walked through the city to see most of them. And today, I went to see the Royal Museum… Rubens, Magritte, … I love it!