AMIDEAST YES Program

Somehow I have managed to have a relatively interesting and lively time here in Tunis outside of work. This last week, however, has demonstrated to me what a particularly rare and precious opportunity working at AMIDEAST truly is. For five days the advising team here hosted the Youth Exchange Program (YES) Pre-Departure Orientation (PDO). YES sends well-prepared Tunisian high school students to live and study for one year in the U.S. The one week PDO is the final step in getting these outstanding young scholars ready to live with an American host family and study in an American high school. In just five days, these young adults participated in approximately 30 hours of lecture including several one-on-one panel discussions with recently returning YES alumni – some of whom have only been back in Tunisia for a few weeks. Evenings were spent attending cross-cultural events including a film screening with discussion, a soccer match, and even dinner at the home of the American ambassador to Tunisia. As this was a residential event with students staying in a nearby hotel with constant supervision by AMIDEAST staff, everyone had ample opportunity to get to know one another. The week culminated with the students putting together their very own presentations for their parents and families on what to expect over the following year along with the challenges and rewards. I was absolutely shocked to discover on Friday how emotional I was. The alumni spoke at length about their American adventures and more than once I heard someone say that going to the U.S was the best decision they had ever made. It was obvious how powerful the school year abroad had been for them and how attached they had become to American culture, language, and people. I was astounded and somewhat overwhelmed to experience such warmth from citizens of a country that, frankly, most of us Americans could not find on a map – including me not all that long ago. After the presentations wrapped up and a final Q&A was had, the students, families, YES alumni, AMIDEAST interns and staff all said their farewells with hugs for everyone. This is especially unique if you realize that Tunisians don’t typically hug like Americans – they go for the double cheek smooch. Hugging is as odd for them as cheek kissing would be for most Americans. Tears actually flowed as emails and facebook details were exchanged. I could not believe how anxious I was while giving last minute advice to one brave Tunisian soul who would be living with a host family in Anchorage, Alaska – my old stomping ground. I had really connected with this lively and adventurous group and, moreover, they reciprocated my feelings. I will relish hearing from each of them about their time abroad and communicating with those who have just returned as they finish off their last year or two in school at home. You would likely be amazed at how “Americanized” most of them have become. Music tastes, use of slang, local dialect, and American tastes make many of them indistinguishable from their U.S. counterparts - if it weren’t for their penchant of meandering back and forth among three or four different languages anyway. Truly stunning stuff. One guy named Firas kept me in stitches. He had spent his last year in Macon, Georgia and acquired the local dialect. Very little is funnier than hearing a Tunisian teen “ya’lling” and drawling during English presentations while others affected their own unique brand of colloquial English. Too funny. Enjoy the pictures of the week’s festivities and of some of the brightest young academic lights in Tunisia today. My great appreciation goes out to AMIDEAST for giving me the chance to work with all of them and to IE3 for getting me here. Bislemma!


DD

PS: These pics are from Sidi Bou Said at the Ambassador’s house. Don’t think I ignored the guys in the photos. There are far more females in the program than guys. Go figure.

 

Livin' Large -- Sousse Style

This is just a quick interim post before I head out to the Medina for lunch today with Leila. I took the train to Sousse Thursday to scout out an apartment that a small contigent of fast-talking entrepenurial female British expat real estate agents lined up for me. Pictures included. It is pricey by local standards - 650 TD per month which is about $430 a month for an IMMACULATE 3-bedroom, all new, third story apartment with a huge terraced roof and walled -in courtyard below.  It's only a 10 minute walk to work and a 15 min walk to the beach which is VERY well-stocked. Beer and food is served in small cabana-esque beach-front restaurants and amusements like jet-skis and para-skiiing abound. Paradise, you say? Maybe. For any of you who care to sample this for yourself, it appears you  just may have a place to stay - reserve your spot now...... Summer is tourist season here..... and August begins Ramadan. A very hot and barren time.  I recommend considering a visit from mid-Sep to beginning of December.  I myself am working out some sort of south desert ascetic nomadic wandering tour via camel (Jmel in Arabic) followed by a European- Parisian-Christmas festivity.  Oh, if any of you haven't noticed, there are comment sections below every post - use them if you have a question or accusation or something. I am craving interwebal feedback.

Bon Weekend to you all!!

DD

Love the camel pillows....seriously I do.

Entrance to kitchen

douche (la toilette)

One of 3 bedrooms!

Better Kitchen than I've ever had in the States w/balcony attached

Eqbal (admin) and Muhammed (IT)

She is a 20yo Soussian who studied in Texas for 1 year

He is a computer genius from Tunis

This tough guy is me every day after work

(just picture le bier delux attached to left hand)

Thank goodness there is a gym by my new apt to work on beach body.

This undershirt is a Tunisian XXL sadly.

Le platinum

The Neighborhood "Disco Mosque"

Yes the name of the salon de the (tea) that I am having my evening espresso at sounds like a bad strip joint. That's how it goes. But it is close and allows me to watch Portugal play Spain from an outside table through the glass doors - which is important if you abhor cigarette smoke like I do. I am also intrigued with the waitress here. She ripped me off last time I was in  maybe thinking I was just passing through. Nothing major, just overcharging for drinks not thinking I would come back and look at a menu. So maybe this place does have something in common with exotic dance clubs after all.  Anyway, I am enjoying watching her squirm wondering if I am on to her. She dances around in about five languages but not English. Convenient. On to more important topics - Dinner at Ibrahim's house Sunday night was fantastic. I met my new friend at the Bardo museum and this gave me the opportunity to flirt a bit with a very cute tour guide who is also a PhD student in archaeology whom I met on the previous visit. Nesrine - or "white flower" - lives up to her adorable name and practically overflows with historical knowledge. I was a little disappointed though when she said she had no desire to ever cross the border of Tunisia. It was surprising to hear this and wonder if I misunderstood somehow.

The couscous that night was very good indeed and I was treated like a king - or perhaps a duke. I am prohibiting myself from smiley faces after sentences like that one in my blog. Illegal. The meal was sublime: Couscous with savory chicken, crisp cucumber salad, baguette, homemade strawberry smoothie with floral essence added for affect, and superb fresh mint tea accompanied by raw almonds to accompany a selection of petite fours I brought along for dessert. While the food and the hospitality was extraordinary, there was a very grave shadow over the evening. Ibrahim's sister, Amirah - which means princess in Arabic incidentally -was attacked by a mugger downtown as she was walking to catch the train home. The now potentially walking dead man grabbed her purse, she resisted, and he pulled out his knife and slashed her face deeply on either side.  The wounds were not vastly different from the ones I recall from the Batman movie of a few years ago where the Joker slashed permanent grins on his victims. Hence, her extremely protective brother has enlisted many of his friends and allies on a vigilante mission to find and deliver a form of justice I will leave to the imagination for the purposes of this piece. Suffice to say, bon chance Monsieur.

On a less dour note, I did my very best to be cheerful during the visit, as the family was attempting to stay positive, and it was twistedly pleasant to see Amirah try to stifle her laughter at my attempts to speak credible Arabic. Every time she smiled it threatened to tear out her stitches. Like I said, twisted. Makbooba wore a fantastic Berber tunic and almost never stopped smiling around me even though we could not speak directly and I did my very best to congratulate her on a magnanimous effort. Before Ibrahim and I departed for the cafe and more raucous Arab man love and World Cup action, Amirah told me this was not goodbye and that I was now one of the family. What does one say to that? I was even invited to come back during the festivities of Ramadan in August which is a most solemn, and also joyous, but intimate family event. I will unquestionably be returning to their home. I do hope that the wounds this family have suffered recently will have softened in the interim. Insh'allah.

Yesterday, there was a formal US embassy brief covering the basic functions and roles of the various departments with a little recruitment effort thrown in.  After, Lee took several of us to a terrific restaurant in La Garrott. Only one state brand of wine is produced in Tunisia and fortunately, the label produces some nice vintages of a merlot/syrah blend. A worthy accompaniment to a fresh seafood dinner by the radiant early evening sea. Lee was gracious in his generosity and the five of us capped off a fine day.

Tunisia has many surprises. Most are desirable. A few, apparently, are not. Like any city of several million but with a flair unique unto itself. L'aissez les bon temps roulette.

DD

Ibrahim at home in the Martyrs Quarter of the Medina

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"Good Girls Go to Heaven, Bad Girls Go to London"

Priceless.

Ravi & David's Big Adventure

The weekend is the right time to go exploring in Tunisia. This Saturday found me and a fellow AMIDEASTer at the ancient ruins of Carthage in northern Tunis. Ravi is, like me, a long term intern. He has been in country only a week longer than I and is taking over the reigns of the American Corner. This is a small library which also plays host to weekly movie nights, topical discussions on U.S. matters in English, and liaisons with the U.S. Embassy to coordinate special functions to increase cultural awareness of the U.S. Ravi is an extremely bright guy from the East Coast who shares a deep interest in Middle East history and politics and plans on going to one the elite U.S. universities for his MBA. He also happens to have parents who immigrated from Eastern India in the 70s and has traveled rather extensively throughout the South Asian and North African regions and makes for a phenomenal travel companion as you can imagine. Plus, I thoroughly enjoy ribbing him about his ability to "blend in" to the environment. I happen to stick out like Pee Wee Herman at a cardiology panel discussion. C'est la vie.

The day consisted of a grand tour of myriad Roman ruins. Apparently the Phoenicians had been in the area for nearly a thousand years or so. ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carthage ) Having founded the City of Carthage in the 9th c. BC, the Romans eventually took it over and built the usual super cool Roman amphitheatres, and fortresses and such. What we see there today is the barest skeleton of what the Romans had built. There are also several museums that showcase an assortment of artifacts, pottery, art, and even corporeal remains of this civilization. The Roman ruins here are not as delicately protected and meticulously labeled as in other places, so a fair amount is left to the imagination to those of us without extensive backgrounds on the period. So I took lots of pictures and Ravi and I conjectured wildly as to what exactly we were admiring at any given time. This was actually sort of a fun way to visit ruins as my eyes usually glaze over anyway after about an hour of reading captions.

We went from 10 to 4 walking, training, and walking some more and were fairly beat. So we made our way to the beach for the grand finale, kicked some sand around, and had a bite to eat. Of course, I had the obligatory espresso and a meaty shwarma sandwich filled with veggies and spiciness. The day was far from over however. Ravi had used his connections with the U.S. Embassy and got us on the list for a festive embassy football match party - the U.S.vs Ghana game as many of you no doubt have seen or heard about by now. We taxied over to the what would be my first time ever in any embassy and the facade of this one was as blank, drab, and sterile as one could be. Though possibly the largest embassy I have seen in Tunis, it is also the lowest key. Basically, the three hours consisted of a burger BBQ, beer, big-screen football, and lovely discourse with very interesting folk from all over the world - some embassy personnel but most outsiders like Ravi and I who had some connection. Surprisingly, many of the Americans present were pulling for Ghana - I was not however. Many of these guys and gals had served in western Africa at some point and felt connected to this small but proud country and hoped that this tiny victory over the U.S. might somehow mean more to them than it would to the mighty and plundering U.S. I understand the sentiment, but knowing how sad and feeble the U.S. team has been for so long, I was on the home team side and wanted to see the father of a smiling, beautiful family present from Guinea-Bissau and blowing a vuvuzela while wearing a green Ghana football jersey to just pipe down. This was not to be as the U.S. would succumb to the superior team from the small African nation. As a result, I lost a bet of one dinar to Kitty - an American who has lived in more countries than I have ever seen. She was gracious in victory - even buying me a bottle of water. The lone vuvuzela trumpeted in victory. It was a lot of fun and a pleasant introduction to the home embassy. We are scheduled to return Monday for a more formal visit and country briefing. Though, I must admit, I think I will prefer the visits which include a cash bar and grill.  So enjoy the pictures and stay tuned. I have a very busy week including a day trip to Sousse to check out an apartment, an evening with Lee, our AMIDEAST country director, the embassy return visit, and of course, tonight, couscous with my new Tunisian friend, Ibrahim and his family.  A tout a l'heure!

A Room With a View - Tunis's Cosmopolitan Nasser District from Six Floors Up

Jambon et frommage crepe et ce soir

There is something unique about the setting sun here during the summer that gives the evening sky a rich cobalt density presenting an elegant backdrop for the planet Venus, the only celestial object visible shimmering like a radiant cut diamond atop the western horizon. Here in Tunis's upscale High Nasser district, traffic flows without pause all day and well into the night between high rise apartment buildings. One of these, the Residence Miramar is my home for the next three weeks. After five days in a hotel, this is not such a bad change. My new pad is six floors up and only 50 yards from my current dining position. It would not be such a bad place for a longer stay, but Leila, my polyglottal Tunisian supervisor at AMIDEAST with rarefied insouciance and grace under fire which only a woman with French blood could possess, has other plans for me in Sousse. My goal while here in Tunis is to absorb as much as possible about our program and then attempt to recreate aspects of it in the southern office. Essentially, our mission is to prepare highly motivated high school age Tunisians to attend college in the U.S. This is accomplished through academic advising, cultural acclimation, college-level preparatory English training, and assistance in obtaining financial aid among other things. Our office in Sousse has not had the staff and attention of the main office in Tunis and it is hoped that I can assist its development (Insha-Allah!) I have been most impressed with the motivation and desire these kids have. They are inspirational. I truly hope to be of use in making the Sousse branch a more valuable resource for those students who wish to study abroad and make themselves competitive in the world market. This week, I have been given the task of creating a newsletter for our students as well as to begin putting together a small collection for the Sousse academic resource library which consists of SAT prep manuals, university brochures, and other such items. AMIDEAST operates in locations throughout the Middle East and North Africa. Lee Jennings is the country director for Tunisia and Leila is his educational coordinator. The other main wing is the language and professional skills training program. Teachers prepare students to achieve fluency in English so that they may move into our program at some point if they choose. I had the opportunity to meet Lee for the first time today as he has been in the States on personal business the last week. He is a very interesting character and I look forward to getting to know him better. He has been involved in the Peace Corps and international service much of his life and has a robust and palpable, not to mention infectious, desire to make a difference in the world. Next week he has invited me out after work for a chance get acquainted. Leila is also kindly putting together a group dinner for her staff next week, and on Monday we will pay a visit to the U.S. Embassy for an introductory country briefing. Should be an exciting week. I have some pictures to post yet of my neighborhood. I will attempt to do so tomorrow. Until then, Bon soir!

DD

Past Meets Present: A Night at the Bardo Museum

Today began in a rather mundane fashion but developed slowly, as all good things do here, toward a very surprising and most pleasant finale. After knocking out the obligatory Sunday chores - laundry pick up, grocery and cat supply shopping at monoprix- I headed over to the Bardo Museum for a tourist experience. I won't drive my few dear readers away by detailing each piece. Just know the museum showcases Roman period Tunisian art from the Carthage area. Included here are a few of my favorites. The museum was airy and open with large round vaulted arches at every room entrance and ethereal flowing white staircases spiraling to each floor. I nearly enjoyed the graceful architecture of the building as much as the art itself.  As it was under renovation, only about half of the museum was available for tour though they did manage to relocate many of the pieces temporarily to allow for viewing. Though I did break out 3 TD for a guided recording of the exhibit rather than the 25TD live guide, I found it difficult to pay much attention to the audio as I was often interrupted by self appointed "tour guides" offering low grade art history lessons in return for a little spare change. I did get some none too flattering photos of myself out of the deal. I blame the camera operator. You decide for yourself.

The Louvre this is not- but the tiny ceramic tilework really is fantastic stuff. I would probably be more impressed if I knew what I was looking at. Like I said I tried.  As I wound up the tour back at the guide station, a relatively young Tunisian man with a very intense look about him began to query me in very good English about the sordid details of my life and reasons for being in Tunis and, more directly, what I was searching for in the museum this day. I told him I was playing the part of the tourist for a bit, but had much broader ambitions for my 8 month sojourn. This began a long conversation encompassing truth, politics, Americanism, Jewishness, 9/11 conspiracies, Iranian affairs, atheistic Shiites, women's rights, and a host of other topics. I suggested we take our discussion to a cafe if he knew of one nearby. So we sat for a couple hours sipping espresso under an unusually cloudy summer Tunisian sky with a blustery wind keeping me comfortably cool and Ibrahim mildly disconcerted. As we sat, a gathering crowd - men only - began to surround us as a Tunis club soccer match started on TV. He informed me it was the Prophet - not Bourgiba -who gave Tunisian women their exalted status. While he confesses women are sacred, the unusual liberties that females are afforded by the constitution are not to his liking. He said he chooses not to be married because a wife must stay at home and the man must make enough money to support her. When he informed me the average wage for a blue collar worker in Tunis was about 400 TD a month,  it took all i could manage not to spit my espresso out. I saw his dilemma. To compensate for his lack of marital status, he claimed to have 6 girlfriends. Very nice. Whether true or not --this type of hyper-masculine talk seems to dominate much of men's conversations from what I observed later on. Or maybe he avoids marriage as he admitted regretfully being once married to an Italian wife. Another thing I learned was that the average Tunisian does not have the opportunity to leave his or her country. Ibrahim placed the blame predominantly on other countries and their regulations.

I don't know how true that is, but it is obvious his income does not allow him to do much travelling. He said the Hajj is merely a fantasy as it would cost him around 4,000 TD. His other dream journey is Cuba interestingly enough. He said it embodies his vision of "freedom." I said that was ironic considering that Cuba is the one place Americans can't-legally-go. We talked some more as the the cafe became more crowded and I had my first sheesha -- an apple flavored water pipe. I re-learned how to slow down and just relax. Next thing I knew he was inviting me to his house in the Martyrs district for dinner. Knowing this was an honor, I quickly accepted, though I did obligatorily mention I didn't wish to trouble him or his family. Ibrahim's father left for Italy when his son was only 14. Apparently he was some sort of political dissident. Ibrahim's older brother is in jail for reasons not made entirely clear but along the same lines it seems. My companion appears to adore his president but sees the actions of his father as an emboldening burden he must bear as the current leader of his home -- which includes his mother -- Maboobe, a 60 something Berber who once visited Turkey long ago and was not impressed. She speaks only Tunsi Arabic; his sister, about 21years old I guess, who appears very contemporary with french manicure and pedicure; and his younger brother Yusuf, about 13, who also likes boxing and plays soccer. This responsibility as head of the house gives Ibrahim a stern focus and determination I rarely see in American men who are unmarried. Upon arrival, I admit I was a bit anxious not wanting to make any huge cultural gaffes, I greeted everyone warmly in my best two or three words of Arabic introductions -- Thanks Lonely Planet guide! All five of use congregated in the living room. They were watching a Ben Stiller movie, and I attempted to be as gracious as humanly possible - especially toward Maboobe. The apartment was furnished warmly but it was clear this was not a wealthy family. I did not discover whether his sister works or not. Dinner was set on the table in the kitchen - Spicy white beans with peppers, baguette, and bottled water. Added was a tasty green salad - just for me I was told. Ibrahim invited me to the table while the ladies and boy waited in the living room. We used only our hands- though his mother had set out forks, I was informed she only did so because I was there. He even showed me the correct method in which to procure and deliver food to the mouth in this fashion. Faltering slightly, I managed a nice spicy red sheen all over my goatee which provided some amusement. After we had mostly finished - I had two helpings out of respect- plus it was tasty fare, Yusuf was called in to eat. At this point there seemed only enough food left in the pot for him from what I saw. I grew very concerned that the women might not have anything left for themselves. Ibrahim was seemingly unconcerned. I called into the living room from the kitchen professing in my best Arabic - learned only moments before from my host- professing my sincerest thanks for the food to Maboobe. She called back in appreciation. Wow. I must say this level of hospitality staggered me. We made our way back into the living room and chatted some more. His sister speaks English quite well. Before I knew it, I had been invited for a formal dinner next Sunday of traditional couscous. Again, I knew this was a tremendous show of respect. I accepted and will be contemplating the most appropriate gift for this auspicious occasion. Ibrahim and I took off for his local town cafe - sort of a Cheers for him I would say - after I gave as many endearments of gratitude as I could muster. I truly don' t know when or if the women even ate. What followed was another two hours of male bonding, ridiculing, joking, insults, and alcohol-free good times. I was truly a duck out of water here in this setting and Ibrahim capitalized on this opportunity to shock all his friends with this tall, pale, non-Arabic speaking American who apparently has no fear of unusual settings or being used partially for the good humor of others. I learned many new Arabic phrases and met many interesting characters. They were all various insults and swears that I cannot repeat here regarding mothers and unfortunate activities best said if some crazy driver attempts to run you over or if you simply want to harass your coffee barista. Willett, pictured here, became the butt of most of the jokes, and I was used to deliver the insults in my haltingly humorous parroted Arabic. Everyone, all men, were in stitches at this novelty. Willett tested me by saying he always wanted to come to America - and that he was a terrorist from Iraq. I retorted he is probably from southern Iraq and called him a dirty Shiite. Of course, all Tunisians are Sunnis and this made everyone fall to the floor in laughter. From then on, Willett was "Willey" to me and whenever he tried to insult me I reminded him that he was a Shiite in a room full of Sunnis. This interaction would never have occurred in a million years if Ibrahim had not gotten to know me over the last few hours. This was another amazingly rare experience no doubt.

As I intimated earlier, hyper masculine banter was the name of the game among Tunisian cafe men. It reminded me greatly of my infantry days in the army of the type of homo-erotic humor that most civilians just don't get. I felt right at home strangely enough. Willey's yellow short shorts made him the prime suspect in the room for illegal homosexual activity. I met another six or seven of Ibrahim's close friends as well. It was getting late and I suggested I should go home soon and prepare for my work week. One fellow teased me by saying there were nefarious gangsters lurking around outside. Others laughed, but he seemed to maintain an air of concern for me. All I know is, Ibrahim stayed closely by me as we made our way to find a taxi. We even got to see some of the late night wedding festivities of a local family on an upsatirs balcony while waiting for my ride - All Ululation, drums and dancing.We exchenged phone numbers and I departed. He was very adamant about calling me on my mobile IN the taxi as I was headed home and he made me promise to call him once I was safely in my room. Fascinating. I am not really sure exactly how concerned I should have been but maybe ignorance was bliss? I think he is just over-protective.  All in all a pretty spectacular day that afforded me some phenomenal insight. Ibrahim said he didn't know of any other American men who had been into his favorite cafe. He said the threats of secret police kept the embassy guys away. Maybe he is exaggerating. Maybe not. But a couple of his friends insinuated I might be CIA. Go figure. Witty retorts fueled by three or four espressos go a long way to overcoming such suspicions. Who would have thought?

DD