I loved my trip to Tunisia -- lots to see, very friendly people, easy to get around. But doing a little reading after I came back, I discovered that it is an amazingly un-free country. I knew going in that it, like many countries in the region, was fairly politically oppressive, but the only way this was at all noticeable when I was there was that there were a few too many pictures of the president around and one point where a police officer told me not to take a picture of an intersection. (This one. Can't imagine why they cared.) No advance visa requirements, no challenge at immigration, no sense of limits on where I could go or what I could do, no feeling that I couldn't discuss anything with anyone (except for the language issue!), and not even a slightly intimidating feel from the police (even the one who stopped my picture taking).
But according to the people who make up 'freedom indices', Tunisia rates very poorly. The Economist Intelligence Unit's Democracy Index rates Tunisia 2.96 out of 10, good for 'Authoritarian' and 141st place, behind the likes of China (136th) and Cuba (125th). Freedom House rates Tunisia 'Not Free', its lowest category, though it does manage a 5 for civil liberties (with 7 being worst). According the Index of Economic Freedom, Tunisia is 'Mostly Unfree', the second worst category. And the Worldwide Press Freedom Index finds a "Very Serious Situation" there.
I'm not entirely sure what to make of this. The 'glass half full' view is that oppression just isn't what it used to be. You can be in one of the world's least free countries and barely even know it. Sure, there's still North Korea, but it's a real outlier, maybe even unique. I had a similar sense while in China, Vietnam, and a few other countries that I knew intellectually to be un-free without actually feeling it. On the other hand, it can also be seen as a cautionary tale, illustrating how much freedom you can not have and barely even notice it's missing. Until it's long gone.
Saturday 20 March 2010
Friday 19 March 2010
Tunisia? Awesome!
I recently got back from a week in Tunisia. Short review -- awesome! Longer review -- read on.
I then walked by the the American WWII Cemetery (unfortunately, arriving just after closing time) on the way to Sidi Bou Said. This is the epitome of the whitewashed, blue-doored, Mediterranean town. It's a great little spot, high up a hill. I ended up watching the sun set from a cafe on top of a cliff while sipping fresh strawberry juice. Nice.
I took a wrong turn at one point and found a whole chicha manufacturing network. A young guy showed me around, trying to explain in French all the different stages of manufacture, one guy turning copper into the basic parts, another engraving them, another plating them, another welding.... It was pretty cool to see how all this came together. A bit later, I got a sandwich and encouraged the guy to go heavy on the spicy harissa. He didn't think that was such a good idea for a foreigner, but it was pretty tasty. He ended up joining me at my table and insisting I share some of his spaghetti. These little, random, friendly gestures were just the first of many to come during my trip.
First stop was Sousse. The Rough Guide said that it was a bit of a tourist trap, but the tourists came in the first place in part because of some amazing early Islamic architecture. The Ribat was indeed really impressive, a sort of fortress / monastery that dates to 821. Unfortunately, I couldn't get into the mosque at all, as it (like many in Tunisia) closed to outsiders in the afternoon for prayer. I did get a nice view in from the tower of the Ribat, and I had some fun watching kids playing soccer against the old walls of the Medina.
I next headed to El Jem, whose amphitheatre was the one Roman site I decided I couldn't miss. Good decision. It's nearly as big as the Colosseum in Rome (and apparently, in its day, even nicer), very well preserved, and just towers over this tiny town in the middle of nowhere.
March 4: I started the next day in Sfax, a less touristy, more commercial city but one that had been recommended for just that unspoiled quality. As I wandered the Medina, I couldn't help noticing how there was no one trying to sell me souvenirs; they were all doing normal business with each other. I stopped by one shop where a man was making brik a l'oeuf, a sort dough disk into which an egg was cracked, then folded over like a calzone and deep fried, cooking the egg inside. Not bad, but not something I'm going to be trying at home. While there, two older gentlemen struck up a conversation (straining the limits of my French) about my camera, where I was from, and what I thought of Sfax. Before I knew it, they had paid for my brik. A little while later, I stopped in a cafe for some mint tea, and I wasn't allowed to pay for myself there either. Again, random, friendly gestures.
In Metameur, I visited my first ksar. These fortified granaries were built by the Berbers when, a thousand years ago, Arab raiders started to move into the area. Individual ghorfas, or rooms for grain storage, would be built of earth, then stacked on top of each other around a central courtyard, with a blank outer wall showing to any attackers. Many of them were built up on top of hills where they could be easily defended. Things being more civilised now, most have been abandoned. Ksar Metameur is 600 years old, but it's crumbling now, with all the ghorfas empty except for one that has been converted to a cafe.
The Berber villages were too interesting to rush. First was Douiret. The old vilage, built around the peak of a 700m tall hill, was abandoned in the 60's when a modern town was built down below. The whitewashed mosque stands out dramatically against the bare stone used for everything else. There are cave dwellings dug into the hillside and a fort at the very top. All around, terraces called jessour have been built to capture as much rain as possible to support a hint of agriculture. I was the only person there.
Chenini was next. It's similar to Douiret -- white mosque, stone cave dwellings -- if perched on a slightly less dramatic hill. It is, however, still inhabited. It's pretty amazing to think that people still live this way, though many of the young people are moving away. I also have to say (at the risk of sounding really bad) that the front doors of some of the homes looked to me like they were straight out of the Flintstones.
After spending longer than I expected at the villages, I decided to skip most of the ksour but headed for the one that got the best notes in the Rough Guide, Ksar Mourabtine. The ksar was well off the main roads, outside a small village, up rough dirt track, through a cemetery, at the top of a hill. I was a bit surprised as I was walking up to see a group of people already there. It was only when I got to the top that I realised it was a group of ten kids and four ladies just eating lunch and spending the day up there. One lady, Layla, spoke French and insisted I join them for lunch. I had a bit of the couscous, which was really good. Every time I slowed down, she insisted that I eat more. "Don't you eat chicken? Have some of the chicken. Do you eat vegetables? Make sure you get some vegetables. Why are you drinking? Eat first, then drink." Conversation was a bit more wide ranging that just that, but my French just couldn't get a whole lot more across than where I was from, how nice it was to be in warm Tunisia than freezing London, how interesting it was to see things in Tunisia like the ksour since we didn't have anything like that at home, and an attempted explanation of how someone my age could possibly not already have a wife and six kids. The children tried out a bit of English and French with me, and the other ladies had Layla translate a few questions. After a few hours, when I told them I had to leave, they were disappointed. I was too. I missed seeing the Star Wars sets, the pit dwellings, and the salt lakes. I came even closer to killing myself by driving the Punto around commercial trucks on two lane roads, but now doing it in the dark. Thanks to missing a turn, I didn't get to Kairouan until after 10PM. But it was all well worth it.
28 February: I must (unfortunately) start things off on a a negative note. I managed to get ripped off twice in my first 90 minutes in the country. First, the cab driver from the airport. He quoted some ridiculous price, I insisted on the meter. He said the rate was doubled at night, I knew there was a 50% premium but it was reflected in the meter. I finally convinced him to go by the meter, but then along the way he reached over and added enough extras on to get it up to his original ridiculous quote! In the end, when I told him we could take it up with the police, he lowered his price from 40TND to 20. Still seemed high (the guidebook said it should be about 7), but at that point I just wanted to be done with it.
After checking into my hotel, Le Grand Hotel de France, just outside the main gate of the Medina, I went to get a bite. It was late (about 11PM), so I ended up with street food. Tasty enough sandwich but I got ripped off on the change. It was all complicated by the facts that a) all I had was a big denomination bill for a cheap sandwich, b) I had no idea what the coins looked like, c) the dinar is made up of 1000 millimes while at one point he handed me two 50's and told me it made up a dinar, d) all this was happening in French so I think at one point he just doubled the price of the sandwich rather than digging for more change, e) all this was happening in the dark so I couldn't really tell what the coins were, and f) I just wanted to be done with it.
Fortunately though, the Tunisia experience picked up from here.
1 March: First actual day on the ground. The plan was to see Carthage and Sidi Bou Said.
I walked through the French colonial (and more modern) New Town on the way to the train station. I got a few pictures at Place 7 Novembre before being asked by a policeman if I was a journalist and then told to stop taking pictures. Fortunately, I did manage to get this shot, the highlight being the Hotel du Lac in the background, apparently the inspiration for the sandcrawler in Star Wars.
Carthage itself wasn't quite what I expected. For one thing, there's not much left of the city of Hannibal. There's the story about how Cato kept saying "Carthago delenda est" at the end of every speech, and the Romans did a pretty thorough job of destroying the city. The only real Punic site is the Tophet, a holy place where children were sacrificed and a big collection of gravestones has been excavated. The naval and commercial port also go back to the Punic era and are surprisingly small for the great sea power of the day. Carthage was also greener than I expected. Salting the earth so that nothing would ever grow there doesn't seem to have been particularly effective (or, I've read, never actually happened anyway).
But the big surprise to me was the extent of Roman Carthage. I had no idea that they had built their own city over that of their enemy. Its baths were at one point the largest in the Roman world. The remains were really impressive and are not done justice by any of my photos. Other sites included a huge cistern, the remains of an amphitheatre, and the forum on top of the hill. Overall, a very cool set of ruins, if more Roman and less Punic than I was expecting.
I then walked by the the American WWII Cemetery (unfortunately, arriving just after closing time) on the way to Sidi Bou Said. This is the epitome of the whitewashed, blue-doored, Mediterranean town. It's a great little spot, high up a hill. I ended up watching the sun set from a cafe on top of a cliff while sipping fresh strawberry juice. Nice.2 March: Today's plan was to see a bit more of Tunis. It started with a wander around the Medina, the old walled city. I got a brief look into the Great Mosque, but unfortunately most of it was off limits to us non-believers.
I took a wrong turn at one point and found a whole chicha manufacturing network. A young guy showed me around, trying to explain in French all the different stages of manufacture, one guy turning copper into the basic parts, another engraving them, another plating them, another welding.... It was pretty cool to see how all this came together. A bit later, I got a sandwich and encouraged the guy to go heavy on the spicy harissa. He didn't think that was such a good idea for a foreigner, but it was pretty tasty. He ended up joining me at my table and insisting I share some of his spaghetti. These little, random, friendly gestures were just the first of many to come during my trip.Later that afternoon, I went to the Bardo Museum. What I saw was impressive: Roman statues, amazing collection of mosaics, Punic jewellery, all in a spectacular former royal palace. Unfortunately, due to some major renovations, only about a quarter of the museum was open.
That evening, I took in some Tunis cafe culture with mint tea in the Medina and ice cream in the New Town. Really nice city to just wander around and chill.
March 3: After a quick browse of the Central Market, I took a taxi to pick up my rental car. The driver didn't speak much French. He asked me if I spoke any Arabic. "Shukran (thank you). Salaam alaikum (peace be with you / hello). Insh'Allah (God willing). And... that's it (with the 'no more' gesture)." That was good for a laugh.
I had gone through a few iterations of my plan for the next few days, eventually deciding to head south to focus on Arab and Berber sites, getting into the desert if I could (I didn't), and skipping some of the best Roman sites (at least for this trip). The other big slice of Tunisia, beaches and islands, was never really on my agenda in the first place. With that in mind, I headed south.
First stop was Sousse. The Rough Guide said that it was a bit of a tourist trap, but the tourists came in the first place in part because of some amazing early Islamic architecture. The Ribat was indeed really impressive, a sort of fortress / monastery that dates to 821. Unfortunately, I couldn't get into the mosque at all, as it (like many in Tunisia) closed to outsiders in the afternoon for prayer. I did get a nice view in from the tower of the Ribat, and I had some fun watching kids playing soccer against the old walls of the Medina.I next headed to El Jem, whose amphitheatre was the one Roman site I decided I couldn't miss. Good decision. It's nearly as big as the Colosseum in Rome (and apparently, in its day, even nicer), very well preserved, and just towers over this tiny town in the middle of nowhere.March 4: I started the next day in Sfax, a less touristy, more commercial city but one that had been recommended for just that unspoiled quality. As I wandered the Medina, I couldn't help noticing how there was no one trying to sell me souvenirs; they were all doing normal business with each other. I stopped by one shop where a man was making brik a l'oeuf, a sort dough disk into which an egg was cracked, then folded over like a calzone and deep fried, cooking the egg inside. Not bad, but not something I'm going to be trying at home. While there, two older gentlemen struck up a conversation (straining the limits of my French) about my camera, where I was from, and what I thought of Sfax. Before I knew it, they had paid for my brik. A little while later, I stopped in a cafe for some mint tea, and I wasn't allowed to pay for myself there either. Again, random, friendly gestures.Heading further south, I passed through miles upon miles of olive trees before the eventually gave way to dessert. This was where driving became a real chore, getting stuck behind heavy trucks on a two lane road, then risking get killed passing them in my Fiat Punto. I also got stopped a few times by police, which I had heard from my friend Mike was something I should expect. I think I had an easier time of it than he did though. One policeman was just trying to hitch a ride (I wasn't going his way). The others didn't ask anything more than "Ca va?"
In Metameur, I visited my first ksar. These fortified granaries were built by the Berbers when, a thousand years ago, Arab raiders started to move into the area. Individual ghorfas, or rooms for grain storage, would be built of earth, then stacked on top of each other around a central courtyard, with a blank outer wall showing to any attackers. Many of them were built up on top of hills where they could be easily defended. Things being more civilised now, most have been abandoned. Ksar Metameur is 600 years old, but it's crumbling now, with all the ghorfas empty except for one that has been converted to a cafe.I finished the day in Tataouine. As someone who considers Star Wars one of the greatest films ever made, I had to go through here. Plus, it's right in the heart of some beautiful desert country. I stayed at a hotel, the Sangho Privilege, with nice bungalows and a pool that felt like it could have been Palm Springs. If I'd had more time, I would have happily stayed there a few days, touring around the desert.
March 5: Today's overly ambitious plan: see a few old Berber villages, a load more ksour, some Star Wars filming locations, and the pit dwellings of Matmata, then head to Kairouan via the salt lakes. Didn't quite work that way.
The Berber villages were too interesting to rush. First was Douiret. The old vilage, built around the peak of a 700m tall hill, was abandoned in the 60's when a modern town was built down below. The whitewashed mosque stands out dramatically against the bare stone used for everything else. There are cave dwellings dug into the hillside and a fort at the very top. All around, terraces called jessour have been built to capture as much rain as possible to support a hint of agriculture. I was the only person there.Chenini was next. It's similar to Douiret -- white mosque, stone cave dwellings -- if perched on a slightly less dramatic hill. It is, however, still inhabited. It's pretty amazing to think that people still live this way, though many of the young people are moving away. I also have to say (at the risk of sounding really bad) that the front doors of some of the homes looked to me like they were straight out of the Flintstones.After spending longer than I expected at the villages, I decided to skip most of the ksour but headed for the one that got the best notes in the Rough Guide, Ksar Mourabtine. The ksar was well off the main roads, outside a small village, up rough dirt track, through a cemetery, at the top of a hill. I was a bit surprised as I was walking up to see a group of people already there. It was only when I got to the top that I realised it was a group of ten kids and four ladies just eating lunch and spending the day up there. One lady, Layla, spoke French and insisted I join them for lunch. I had a bit of the couscous, which was really good. Every time I slowed down, she insisted that I eat more. "Don't you eat chicken? Have some of the chicken. Do you eat vegetables? Make sure you get some vegetables. Why are you drinking? Eat first, then drink." Conversation was a bit more wide ranging that just that, but my French just couldn't get a whole lot more across than where I was from, how nice it was to be in warm Tunisia than freezing London, how interesting it was to see things in Tunisia like the ksour since we didn't have anything like that at home, and an attempted explanation of how someone my age could possibly not already have a wife and six kids. The children tried out a bit of English and French with me, and the other ladies had Layla translate a few questions. After a few hours, when I told them I had to leave, they were disappointed. I was too. I missed seeing the Star Wars sets, the pit dwellings, and the salt lakes. I came even closer to killing myself by driving the Punto around commercial trucks on two lane roads, but now doing it in the dark. Thanks to missing a turn, I didn't get to Kairouan until after 10PM. But it was all well worth it.March 6: 
Last day in Tunisia, and unfortunately there wasn't much to it, as I had a 2PM flight and 160km left to drive back. I just managed a visit to the Great Mosque in Kairouan. Kairouan is a former capital of Tunisia, an ancient center of Islamic scholarship, and (at least by some counts) the fourth holiest city in Islam. Depending on the source, somewhere from four to seven visits to the Great Mosque may be considered equivalent to one visit to Mecca. The mosque is really impressive. The solid minaret dates back to 730. The building incorporates Roman columns and ornate wooden doors. I got a peek into the prayer hall, which was full of woven carpets and ancient lamps. The huge courtyard has a drain in the center to capture rainwater and specially carved notched cups around the edge to capture dust before it falls into the cistern below.
Last day in Tunisia, and unfortunately there wasn't much to it, as I had a 2PM flight and 160km left to drive back. I just managed a visit to the Great Mosque in Kairouan. Kairouan is a former capital of Tunisia, an ancient center of Islamic scholarship, and (at least by some counts) the fourth holiest city in Islam. Depending on the source, somewhere from four to seven visits to the Great Mosque may be considered equivalent to one visit to Mecca. The mosque is really impressive. The solid minaret dates back to 730. The building incorporates Roman columns and ornate wooden doors. I got a peek into the prayer hall, which was full of woven carpets and ancient lamps. The huge courtyard has a drain in the center to capture rainwater and specially carved notched cups around the edge to capture dust before it falls into the cistern below.I was moving a bit gingerly at this point, thanks to a bad ankle. One older gentleman checked to see that I was OK, then wished me "Bismillah" or "In the name of God", a traditional blessing for someone on a journey. A younger guy with a moped offered me a ride, but I was almost back to the Punto at that stage. He handed me a few cards for his hairstyling business.
And that, after a mad dash back to the airport, was that. I really liked Tunisia. It had a lot to offer, and I only scratched the surface. It's bigger than I had realised going in, and it took longer to cover the distances, but mostly there was just a tremendous amount to see and do. Definitely worth a return visit.
Welcome to The Blogowitz Blog
Yeah, that's right, I'm starting a blog. I'm becoming 'that guy'.
Actually, I'm probably ten years too late to become 'that guy'. Maybe I'm 'one of those guys'. Maybe I'm not even that at this point. I'm well behind on this leg of the communications revolution. (I was a pretty early adopter of email, the web, and mobile phones, but I was slow on Facebook and I'm still rejecting Twitter.)
As I say in the up top, I'm doing this because I feel like writing and have some time on my hands. I see things developing along a few tracks -- part travel, part political, part photo, with the odd dash of sports or pop culture thrown in. A big part of the inspiration to start this came from my old friend Michelle who saw photos I posted from an Africa trip and asked where the travel diary was (and who has a much more professional blog of her own). Additional credit goes to Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother, maybe the funniest show currently on TV, whose blog is awesome. Also, the folks at the UCSD Guardian, where I wrote for the Opinion section for a year (and one sports column on the 50th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's first game). That was my first experience having other people read my writing, and I've missed it ever since. Finally, there are all those blogs, mainly political, that I have been reading regularly and always wanted to respond to. Now, instead of keeping my reactions to myself or having them dangling down among other people's comments, I can slap them up on my very own page!
OK then, let's see where this goes....
Actually, I'm probably ten years too late to become 'that guy'. Maybe I'm 'one of those guys'. Maybe I'm not even that at this point. I'm well behind on this leg of the communications revolution. (I was a pretty early adopter of email, the web, and mobile phones, but I was slow on Facebook and I'm still rejecting Twitter.)
As I say in the up top, I'm doing this because I feel like writing and have some time on my hands. I see things developing along a few tracks -- part travel, part political, part photo, with the odd dash of sports or pop culture thrown in. A big part of the inspiration to start this came from my old friend Michelle who saw photos I posted from an Africa trip and asked where the travel diary was (and who has a much more professional blog of her own). Additional credit goes to Barney Stinson from How I Met Your Mother, maybe the funniest show currently on TV, whose blog is awesome. Also, the folks at the UCSD Guardian, where I wrote for the Opinion section for a year (and one sports column on the 50th anniversary of Jackie Robinson's first game). That was my first experience having other people read my writing, and I've missed it ever since. Finally, there are all those blogs, mainly political, that I have been reading regularly and always wanted to respond to. Now, instead of keeping my reactions to myself or having them dangling down among other people's comments, I can slap them up on my very own page!
OK then, let's see where this goes....
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