i have had a remarkable morning despite the fact that i have had an extremely small amount of sleep latley...

i would like to share with you some songs friends have ...eh hem... altered, they are not about to win any awards or anything, but they made me laugh... which is worth recognition if nothing else: 

to the tune of "oh christmas tree"

     Oh Ramadan, Oh Ramadan,

     oh how you make me lazy

     Oh Ramadan, Oh Ramadan,

     oh how you make me crazy

to the tune of that old song "wouldn't it be nice..." (Erica started singing it once we discovered a big african spider in our bathroom)

     wouldn't it be nice if he would eat them,

     then we wouldn't have to kill them all

     there would be no more mosquitos,

     and they wouldn't be smeared on the walls

     wouldn't it be nice....

You will be happy to hear that Tunis has had a remarkable impact on my domesticity.  ...but, clearly, not on my English skills.  a very astute observation from one who really knows: "btw, your english is slipping" ...its funny cause its true... oh i hope that remedies itself quickly.  it has made me not want to post on here... but back to being domestic: since i've been here i have been washing my laundry by hand (its a good thing those women taught me how in S Africa that summer), and -surprisingly enough- cooking.  I'm no Chef, but i can make you some killer Briq... and Tunisian tea like you've never had.  It is actually a small joy for me, and healing somewhere that makes me smile, to cook.  Most of you know that my skills in the kitchen have been... uh... less than impressive... but i've discovered that i really enjoy it.  ...i think it's the easiest artistic expression i have here.  ...of course, it is not easy to cook in Tunis.  The ordeal of dinner-and Ifdar at that- takes 3-4 hours.  no i am not kidding.  patience is a virtue and an ally here.  It has certainly been an inlightening experience.  ...Borgiba really was wise in his decision to send half the population to school/work by adding electricity and roads. 

how easily we forget that in most of the world thought is a luxury.  Not the act, but the high art, for sure.  Philosophizing, as Perlman calls it, is just not done when your days are consumed with fetching water, cooking, cleaning, child-raising, and being otherwise overwhelmed with duty.  Of course, it is part of the human mind to question and analyze... but I mean in the greek sense of sitting around and throwing out theories and ideas that have no immediate bearing on one's day-to-day life.  If you think about philosophers in that sense, they are the wealthy, the male, ...the west.  ...Oh how much we spend our time on things that do not matter... and oh how much it matters to spend ourselves.  some things are so easy to let go of... and others... others are not.

people matter.

if i learn nothing else in life, let me know and live out with every breath that people matter.

you know how when we go out and everyone plans to pay for themselves we call it "going Dutch"?  Here they call it "Anglais"... and i am convinced that sometimes you have to be outside of something to see it accurately.  Surely, all sides are neccessary to actually understand something... but i think that this part of the world sees ours as it is now far more accurrately than we do.  We are still stuck in our own pasts, victories and defeats, traditions and scandals... to see just how much we evolve and change daily. 

the world is small

i hate the media.  i think judgement day will be hard on many of its members for making so many events unneccesarily [whatever].

i was invited to a ball.  ha- yes really.  its some fancy to-do for the marines... which gives me little inspiration for attending.  but it is right after Eid so if i am not in Hammamet i may actually go.  we make life fun, right?

i am so profoundly thankful for friendships

there are things to say and things to tell you. 

the heart is a deep and mysterious thing... i shall never understand my own, to be sure.  but shoia shoia some things are becomming clearer.

EDIT:

the boat ticket of which i spoke was not intended to be a one-way-ticket...

at least, not yet.  Too early to decide, or know.  But seeing as how my

program here does not end untill Dec 2, and most of them take a month

from port to port, probably isn't very realistic... (doesn't mean it can't be done)

Perhaps I will end up in London (i have to leave Tunisia due to Visa rules)

England and I get along famously... so that could work well.  Want to come?

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In case any of you were wondering just how much I am worth, allow me to enlighten you:

500 camels

Yesterday in the Suk a man in his 40s grabbed me and offered my company 500 camels for me.  Luckily for me, they had no way of transporting numbers of that sort and so the deal did not go through.  Whew.  Yes really.  It was hilarious. 

Forgive me for the previous post and all of my complaining.  I think I simply hit the second state in the "social imaginary" in "cross cultural experiences" ... I am much better after venting.  I actually had a great weekend all around.  Imen Frij, a girl from school, went to a cafe with us and we spend the night speaking fus-ha (classical arabic) and I was pleasantly surprised at my ability to hold conversations.  It was beautiful.  AND, she is from Libya (Tripoli) so for once in my life I was defered to for speaking french (Libya speaks Arabic and English).  We had ice gelatto and talked about all manner of things.  It was grand.  Then on Sunday, we went to the Suk and I bought a tea set... and I lied to a perfect stranger.  Some men from Gabon had followed Gina out of the cathedral and were trying to get our phone numbers, "for french tutoring."  I told the one accosting me that my boyfriend would not be very comfortable with the arrangement.  He took my hand and laughed because there was no ring on my finger, and said that it was not a problem because I was not married.  ...So I have determined that I need a ring to wear, just to avoid the phone-number-seekers.  Later, Marwa took us to Carrefoure, the Hypermarket and we bought food for Ifdar... and a french world map.  And after Ifdar Imen came back and took us to an Equestrian jumping competition.  ...I had no idea there were any in Tunis.  But her sister trains at the club, and although it was very badly organized... it was lovely.  I love horses and I miss riding very much.  It was nice to spend some time with them beforehand and to watch the competition.  My prof said I had wonderful pronunciation today (today being the key word), and I am rather in incredibly good spirits. 

...how impossible do you think taking a ship home for Christmas would be? ...? 

 If one of you could find me a good ticket... I'd do just about anything you wanted.... yeah, just about.

Uhebukum

this is going to be considerably less... um... upbeat... and more of a venting...

...the past few days have been my most frustrated day in a while... a long while.  Tunis has given me an education that I think I am not recognizing when it happens... [not unlike my first bee sting--here.  I was picking up the sunscreen bottle when the bee stung me.  I tried to shake it off of my hand but it was already lodged inside of me... I finally had to stop moving and sit down and pull the stinger out, and watch for the rest of the day as my hand changed sizes and colors (i'm fine now)... or, come to think of it, like the electric shock I gave myself this morning.  The voltage zoomed through my body before I had time to even realize what happened... I think it changed my heartbeat there for a second... and afterwards all I could do was curl up in a ball on the chair ...and laugh with anxiety over what had just happened... ]  ...but yesterday I was frustrated. 

The night before I had gone out to Nadia and Miriam's again--I swear, "cultural sensitivity" is going to leave me with a good 10 pounds after Ramadan-- they had wanted me to stay the night and go to school with them in the morning...they like two blocks from the Universite... but I had homework... which I didn't bring... so I went home.  It was the first time I have not been able to finish my Arabic homework.  I was so confused and I felt like I will never understand this language and wondering what was even the point, and why I was even here... the next day in class my prof. didn't mind that we (my roommates hadn't finished either) had questions, but he didn't know how to explain the answers in english, so he kept repeating them in Arabic... which didn't help me... girls came into the classroom to "meet" us, which means they came to inform us that we are now "best friends" and to tell us that we must give them our phone numbers.  One of them informed us that many people at the Universite hated us, but she thought we were nice.  "Thanks" was the only thing that came out of my mouth... I didn't even get out a "shokran"...wow.  She is right though, I discovered that the kids who do talk to us--well, they really come up and say we are friends and then "let's strike a deal, we'll speak english for an hour, and then Arabic for an hour," all parties are aware we're a means to an end--lie to their families about what they are doing, saying it is a school program or something, rather than a trip to the cafe.  The students already have had protest demonstrations that the administration keep taking down about Americans (we are the only ones in the whole school)... and kids screaming protests in the courtyard... we pretend like we dont notice... it doesn't work to try to explain that we are very different from our government... but i have to admit that it stings. 

When Dominique came over to give Erica and I traditional Cote'D Ivoire dress, she called me fat, and when the dress fit shrugged... I was angry at myself for how much it actually hurt my feelings.  ...then last night we decided to go downtown (crazy night life in Ramadan) and get ice cream.  Karim took us out for tea, and then glace... and on our way home, people threw fire crackers at us.  They didn't hurt us, but I jumped a good foot in the air I was so scared.  They just laughed... and I wanted to cry. 

I realized that something was really wrong with me in a shameful moment of hesitation.  My mother gave me a shawl before I left, and I was wearning it when Dominique came over.  She sat down next to me and said she wanted to buy it from me.  Gina "interpreted" her french (the "" are neccessary... because any interpreter would be mortified with her interpreting ethics).  I asked Gina how to tell her not to give me money... but I don't think it got accross.  Erica came in and the conversation changed to food for a minute (everything at night during Ramadan is about food).  Dominique brought it up again, more adament this time... and I was angry with myself for not wanting to give it to her.  I took it off and folded it on the couch and she talked to Gina some more.  ...When she started gathering her things I realized she was not going to pick up the shawl and had not understood that I meant to give it to her, so I handed it to her and smiled.  ...She broke down in tears.  She sobbed with her face in her hands and eventually began whispering "merci...merci."  I was ashamed at myself for being annoyed at the akward situation with Gina seemingly trying to get me to tell Dominique to forget about it, and I was irate that I had hesitated in giving it to her.  I didn't want to.  Thankfully, somehow Grace made it through to my heart and I became myself again and quickly took it off.  ....ag.... i'm still frustrated about it.  When did stuff become important?  ---some of you may not really understand the gravity of this situation on my heart... but at least one of you will... oh forgive me.

I'm in an email discussion with an pronounced Arabic prof on the west coast about what I should do after the program ends.  He mentioned AUC as an option (American U in Cairo)... and I was disappointed.  Why is it I would rather go to Jordan, or Lebanon, or Palestine... than Egypt?  I have always had a small aversion to AUC, and I have no idea why.  He asked me some more specifics about my proficiency and my desires so he could give me better advice.  But I am incredibly grateful that he's been willing to discuss the issue with me. 

There is so much more to say and yet I feel exhausted as I write this.

Until this week, I hadn't cut myself shaving my legs for years.  It happened twice in the last week... on my knee.  The scar left by surgery caught the blade on two separate occasions... and watching blood emerge from that place again was a deeply painful thing.  My knee could be doing better.  Ramadan is not good for it, I often find myself in rather intense, stiff, pain... and the right side of my leg is still numb.  If it is going to come back, I think I only have another couple months to expect it.  ...and I realize with a surprised level of agony how much I am not dancing.  Almost every time I am standing still for more than a couple moments I catch myself brushing my foot over the floor, or acting like I am at barre some other way... and when I realize what I am doing, tears often appear in my eyes.  i realize with lament that if I stay here... or over here somewhere... for a while... dancing is that much further away.  Not that I can't do what I am doing (resorting back night when my roommates are sleeping), but no classes, or community ... here in Tunis, anyway... no ballet... certainly no modern or jazz.  ...and I cringe at both sides of the same dream.  Cringing because it is far away and feels so unattainable, and wincing because it is important to me.  ---in the past couple days I have returned to an internal discourse, fighting over surrendering and cherishing your heart... yes, again.  again and again and again.  its exhausting, and frustrating.  I am saddened that I cannot happily give up anything of my own (clothing or dreams)... and I am heartbroken that I would need to sacrifice something so intimately a part of me.  I know, I know, there are endless amounts of holes in those statements... don't worry, that is not the end of it... and I know-- really i do.  But this, too, is a pain that has often returned to me.  You'd think it would hurt less, not more, each time wouldn't you?  I suppose not if I was wise.  [sigh] suffice it to sa that my heart is homesick for dance, deeply grieved in its recent absence from my everyday... and currenty frustrated with its replacement. 

[sigh again]

...does beauty ever differ?  does the beauty of the flower blooming underneath the garbage on the street differ from the one blooming in the garden? 

I suppose not.  ...but mine does when I look at them.

So Gina uploaded a couple pictures... and you get to benefit from it!  hopefully more will follow.

this is Gina, my roommate, and Dominique, my neighbor from Cote'D Ivoire, she comes over almost every night.  Here we are eating Erica's masterful crepes... and pears with chocolate... Dominique brought us over tradition clothes and jewelry before she leaves for home for a month on Monday. She only speaks french, but we have fun anyway.

This is Erica, the crepemaster, at work:

This is me in our flat... note the missing door behind me... it broke off and fell on top of me earlier that day.

Dominique and I laughing at the pictures on Gina's camera... she's hilarious

(note the homework on the table that isn't being done...)

Karim recounting history.... proving once again that he knows everything...

Hotel Salaambo... where i spend my first night in Tunis... and had my first encounter with African bugs...

Islamic Art at the Muse Bardo... (this was a ceiling)

this is the neighborbood my university is in... taken the day Nadia kidnapped us

...that is all for now...

Friends that can tell you to sit on the floor

i do not have the ability to do this topic justice of any kind... but i feel that if i do not say something about it right now i will explode all over the Tunisian Mosaics..I can't help but be a little cheesey, forgive me.

.  ...There are friends that can tell you to "sit on the floor" and for whom you can do the same.  It is a level of intimacy that usually sneaks up on people, I think.  And it rarely happens when you're watching.  The phrase, of course, comes from one of my dearest... who coined almost every clever saying I know. Big surprise there.  It came out of a conversation we had as interns... as roommates.  Although things are rather different now, this memory plays itself in my mind every so often.  She was talking about selfishness, and how to eradicate it from her heart.  She explained that every time her heart desired something for its own comfort, she immediately offered it to someone else- gave it away.  Her example was, if there was a seat that looked particularly comfortable, or a preference she felt, she would immediately offer the place to another person, and take the least comfortable place for herself so no one else would have to sit there.  This is not a foreign concept to most of us... and rather compulsory, I should hope.  I remember, with laughter now, feeling honoured when the expectation extended to me.  I do not mean that I was expected to do the same (though, of course, I was).  I mean that she, herself, would offer my things to others in exchange for less comfort, knowing she was able.  It is a beautiful thing to know when and how you can speak for another person, and to know that they know the same.  ...I have a couple friends who could speak for me on practically anything, that I trust completely and would gladly fulfill any committment they made for me... so beautiful.  And they know it.  Oh the profound respect I have for those of you in whom I have seen such love. 

I don't want to give away your secrets... but, here, I doubt they exsist anyway.  Like the heart who submitted herself to a suppossed vanity in order to allow another to feel they were giving love.  And the arms that held up mine when I simply could not do it anymore.  And the feet who slowed so others could keep up, though it meant sacrificing those sacred moments of solitude.  AND the moments when curteousy is completely thrown out the window.  Because love is understood and trusted in the company.  Like the friends who asked me out to dinner when I was fasting, knowing I was happy to sit and watch them eat.  How funny that at a certain point of friendship love is communicated through a lack of curteousy rather than an abundance of it.  Not that it is discarded... it is simply... relative.  Your best friend does not expect you to ask for a drink of water when they visit your house (generally), they expect you to get it yourself.  Like when I arrive in Ontario and my hands never touch my luggage, and the next day another arrives, and I am included in baggage duty.  Simple things that make my heart happy in rememberance.  ... my favorite part is that I only realize their beauty after they have occurred-- sometimes months or years after they've been normal.  Loving someone by letting them love you.  My forever example in my mind was only a second-hand story.  Do you have those people that you feel closer to whenever you do something about which you know they would be proud?  I pray so.  And I pray that memories of them grow stronger every time you see/experience something they would appreciate and enjoy.  I know that mine are more alive each day, not with mournful thoughts of missing them, but with joyful love for their life.  I am so much more than blessed to know the people I know.  It is humbling to even think of [you all].  To know that so many of you could tell me to "sit on the floor" and I would gladly endure whatever discomfort arose from a decision you made without my consent... because I know that I could do the same.  ...I love that.  ...I think it's in this book we've all read.  And it makes beautiful sense to me. 

 Love is the answer to everything.  [love] is how suffering can be joy. [love] is how time and distance are meaningless.  [love] is how relationships enrich life so dramatically.  Today I am overwhelmed with the beauty of love.  In tiny, silly ways.  Ryan sent me an email that touched my heart-- even though he hates email with a passion.  And in a moment of memories I felt as if I would explode if I did not have a way to love my friends.  There are people with whom I have not spoken for longer than I would choose.  And I miss them.  But more than missing them, I feel as if I love them more now than I ever have... without reason, which is the best reason... the only real one.  ...I'm not making sense.  In any case, I am thankful for such beautiful people to have been in my life, who've made me infinately better at living, and for whom I shall always have the highest degrees of love and respect... regardless of speaking to them.  Mike Barker.  Hollie Chambers.  Jason Scharf.  Ashley Autrey.  Tom Svitak.  ...a small list of those with whom it has been far too long since I've spoken--who don't read xanga... as for those of you who do... let's talk.

...ah, I have experienced real love.  Truely, I am among the luckiest on earth.

Ramadan starts on Teusday/Wednesday depending on the moon;

Tunisia just had their Daylight Savings switch this week, so for a month ill be only 8 hours ahead of PST, and 5 hours ahead of EST.  Still excited to hear from dear ones. 

i cannot find journals anywhere.  i swear i have been to every Librariè in Tunis... they have small _50 sheet, half page, grid paper_ notebooks for school... but that just wont do... i am too picky.  Soon i will be desperate and will have to use one anyway.

...i miss PF Changs... and all the people with which iùve eaten there.

I still hqve henna on ,y hand from our trip to Kairouan on Wednesday;  __for those of you unfamiliar; there are cities holy to Islam, Mecca is first; then Medina, Jerusalem is third, and Kairouan is forth.  We went to the oldest mosque in Africa.  Karim suggested that I always have a scarf to cover my head _many women in Tunis donùt cover their heads until they are around 30... also the age many of them marry... yes, Tunisia is very different__ so that he could take me into mosques.   happy to say the black silk doesnt look so badover my hair... ... ... it was amazing... the Islamic capitol of North Africa...   no words.

also went to Takrouna__small Berber villiage on the way to Kairouan. sat and drank tea for about an hour, then had ...very fresh... lamb... ... donùt ask.  __most people i know think that the Berbers are Moroccan.  it is true that there is a large population of Berbers there, but Berbers qre qctuqlly the indiginous people of Tunisia.  ...they're from here. 

...and everyday i stare at my feet _like an emo kid without a camera_ and in amazement tell myself the places they are treading.  ...if 4 years ago id have been told that i would be here, i would not have been surprised, but excited.  ...i am thankful it looks so different from how I imagined.  Every day old desires in my heart are fulfilled a moment before they are remembered... and then I freeze in awe of everything i am experiencing.

Currently weve been having classes MTRF, with trips on W and Saturday and 4 hour classes on Fridays.  Once Ramadan starts we will have class 6 days a week, since travel will be extremely difficult.  ...i dont have enough film.

speaking of film: here is a photo of us playing Monopoly in Tunisian Arabic... as you can see, we needed dictionaries.  Gina and i are attempting to read a "chance" card i think.  Erica and David are not in the photo, but Erica is the one with all the money... she smoked us all.  And i realized as i saw this photo that --at least on here-- there are not many picutes of me where im looking at the camera... apparently my eyes are sacred and cameras are not allowed to see them... I'll try to remedy that soon.  But i am at the mercy of ;y roommates photo collection, so please be patient.  (the picture is in our flat)

these are the other students here: from right to left, David, Rachel, Erica, Alison, Gina, and Boram

I actually took this picture... in Kairouan:

...and THIS, this is Karim in an olive tree...

...hopefully more shall follow.

my coursemates are very communal and i love it.  we are humorously intimate though we only met recently.  every meal is family style_as it should be_ and every night each house contacts the others to make sure we're all safe.  ...ive had my first few outings alone... and i have mixed feelings.  life and death hangs on the taxi driver__who may or may not know how to drive his car, may or may not have a liscence, may or may not know where anything in Tunis is, may or may not speak a language you know, may or may not be a rapist, and may or may not be having a good day.  I am not exaggerating.  Taxis can be cheaper than bus fare, which are entirely unreliable and even less safe.  There are crazy cultural rules here that sometimes piss me off and sometimes i only notice after i realize ive been following them for a week.  when it starts to get dark, it is simply no longer safe, as a woman, to be out alone.  girls disappear from public life and men emerge in disturbing numbers.  i have never in my life had so many languages and ...phrases... hurled at me, and i have never in my life been more uncomfortable.  Ive been followed home on foot, followed in cars; been grabbed and pulled, ...last night i went with my roommates to a cafe to meet our friends from the program and their host family and friends for a birthday party.  the__much further than er thought__ walk there was filled with so many comments, invitations, yelling, following, and attempts to get us into cars that i started to find tears on my cheeks.  the cafe itself was very crowded, but only a few incidents occured there __men get in your face and grab you here... it is beyond uncomfortable.  afterwards we went back to their house and talked with Imal _the birthday girl_ and Oussama__who insists that americans call him Sam, so as not to "frighten" them.  Imal was almost in tears herself talking about how she desperqtely wanted to move to Canada and get out of Tunisia__largely because of the men__  and that she just could not take a life with no hope, that the cost was too high.  at that moment, Oussama, who does not speak english well began a rant on how the price of coffee was, absolutely, too high and how awful it was.  his sister laughed, but looked back at me and mouthed "too high".  She has offered to give me Tunisian dance lessons __more specialized than general Belly Dancing.  David saw Gina and Erica and I into a cab, and when we arrived home, the cabby discharged us quickly and drove away.  there was a car parked in front of our gate with the lights on, engine running, and packed with guys.  the three of us walked to the door, disturbed, and one of them opened the car door and began the usual rant of things we hear each day.  he got out of the car and started toward us and Erica was shaking as she tried to get the keys into the gate.  I slammed the gate behind Gina and we hurried to our front door, silently freaked out.  The car didnt drive away for a while...  i was less than pleased. 

ive been told that the biggest reason why women leave Tunis__tunisian and foreign alike__is because of the men.  On the up side, i have met a couple who seemed to have only the motive of practising English in talking to me, and nothing else.  at the Embassy on Friday __we went for Rachels birthday, she wanted a drink and being a muslim country, beer is not readily avaliable... though i question the safety of drinking with most marines almost as much... I met a man named Housnouii who was an English Lit major, and was trying to organize a club where Tunisians could meet with native speakers of English to practice.  I also met Hype, he is half Tunisian and half French... he teaches Salsa dance and offered to give us dance lessons.  David is stoked because he is meeting his girlfriend Chrisana in Spain after the program and wants to surprise her.  i am stoked because any chance i have to dance is freedom to my heart. 

it is hilarious the networking capabilities that can emerge out of this trip even already.  Karim himself must seriously be part of the Tunisian Mafia... Gina is a biochemistry student on her way to being a natreopathic MD, she lived in Naples for a year and speaks Italian almost fluently, Erica is going to be a lawyer__she is another one who looks pretty good on paper and i imagine will be able to go just about whereever she likes__, Rachel is working on a publishing thesis and wants to be a book editor, Alison is studying to be an Environmental Engineer__probably in Africa, David lived in Brasil for a year and is hoping to become a neurologist, like his grandfather;  Boram is a pharmacy student who wants to move to South Africa, there are a numer of Fulbrighters ive met here, Pauline among the most mentionable, organizations that i could be a part of as well;  opportunities have arisen with  CEMAT a scholarly research center; AMIDEAST, an English teaching and exchange program, The Red Crescent, NAs version of The Red Cross, and a couple random people Karim has introduced us to.  it makes me laugh... but oh I am thankful.

ive been sick since i got here.   fever, shivering and shaking, every stomach problem one can have, headaches that pound and give me vertigo... there is serious pollution here, and -everyone- smokes, all the time, everwhere, with unfiltered cigarettes that make me disdain it more everyday... black lungs are not good for dancing... and i am becomming concerned that my symptoms are not going away... its been weeks now... 3?  yes, exactly 3 weeks today;  wow.  Ma'Sha' Allah. 

 ...I pray that I marry a man who speaks French. 

not because it is beautiful... just because I need it SO often and I have so very little.  Language is comming tremendously slower than id like, or than is beneficial.  i dont really fel like i am learning anything.  We spend hours in class on Classical Arabic, then talk to Tunisians who only speak Tunisian, or at best Maghrebi dialect, and then to merchants and the French students who always speak french.  It is too many languages to be immersion; and my brain shuts down __or, oddly enough, switches to ASL..; as if it doesnt want to hear anymore__  it frustrates me to no end. 

...and i need to study more.  i am slacking on my homework because of being here, a serious lack of resources to which i am accustomed, actually having my BA, and... because when i get access to the internet i spend a lot of time writing on here instead of doing reseach.  ...most of my classmates just told there friends at home they would be gone till december and theyd catch up then... but... we have a different situation than that.  And __my life at least__ does not work that way.  despite the fact that most of the people reading this live far from one another... im not going back to a particular school at the moment and, everday more opportunities arrise for me to stay here longer; which, honestly, iùd love to do... in spite of the creepy men. 

...the problem is that I just want to do too many things.  i want to Stay in Tunisia and really learn the language.  i want to go to Lebanon and study classical Arabic, i want to teach in Saudi, i want to stay in North Africa, I want to go to grad school in Europe, i want to go to grad school at all, i want to be done with school, i want to dance, i want to get married, i want to interpret, i want to be in the Northwest, i want to be abroad, i want to come home for Christmas, i want never to get on a plane again, i want to write, i want to roam, i want to live near my best friends...  and as much of a make-it-happen girl as i am; i just cant do everything.  Certianly not by myself... and adding other people into the equation brings their dreams and desires and fears and everything else that makes relationships complicated. 

the truth is that i am really looking forward to Ramadan.  _sigh_ "shoiya shoiya" i will just have to take it little by little.

and in my best Tunisian:

"Barakllahufik"

...i am afraid that if i post again, my phone and address will be forgotten... so please dont forget that they are on the last post.

this keyboard is hard to use, becquse the keys qre not ,  marked the way they type, so i ask your forgiveness for typos early, it will help me most if you regard q as "a" and , as "m" and z as "w"... qnd the punctuqtion does not zork zell either.  i knoz it is hqrd; but otherzise i donùt hqve enough ti,e to zrite to you qt qll:  do you think you cqn hqndle it? hope so; pleqse donùt be frustrqted, i,qgine trying to type on this thing... sheri; forgive ,e:

it hqs been 1 ,onth since i hqve been qt ho,e;  qnd only q couple zeeks thqt i hqve been here; but frustrqtion is setting in on ,qny fronts:  ...i rqther doubt thqt i q, entering the "second stqge of culturql experience" so soon; ,qybe it is becuqse of doing so ,uch trqveling on the zqy here:  _is this too hqrd to reqd or should i keep going?  oh zell; i suppose you zill reqd it if you cqn, let ,e knoz_

i feel q bit "sloz on the uptqke" here:  in irelqnd qnd frqnce i could be there q fez dqys qnd hqve pqges to sqy qnd explqnqtions of the country to provide... but here... those of you zho hqve blessed ,e zith phone cqlls knoz thqt i donùt reqlly knoz zhqt to sqy qbout it...  i cqn explqin zhqt iùve been doing: but, much of myself feels qs though it is ,issing or scrq,bled so,ehoz:  qnd here deeper issues co,e into plqy:  :::it hqs been q zhile since i zqs in q ,usli, country;;; qnd there qre spirituql differenes thqt _try qs one ,qy_ you cqnnot prepqre for or knoz qheqd of ti,e;  you just cqnt:  so this keyboqrd is q good representqtion of ,y ti,e here; qnd of ,y thoughts:  they qre reql qnd they qre there; but they qre slightly scrq,bled qnd hqrder to find thqn nor,ql:  it zqs not until yesterdqy thqt i even noticed poetic the,es;  for so,e of you this ,qy not be q big deql::: but it is qbnor,ql for ,e:  zqlking through the Suk _,qrked_ zith Ginq i zqs finqlly hit__exqctly 2 zeeks qfrer qrriving_ zith so,e sy,bolis, i zould include in q literqry zork if ever i zere to zrite one qbout Tunis:  the strqy cqts:  they qre everyzhere:  you cqnnot go dozn q street zithout running into q cqt or q kitten__but never both__ so,e qre ,qngy qnd notqbly convered in trqsh, qnd so,e qre surprisingly cleqn qnd zell groo,ed:  they qre not eqten here; they qre ocqsionqly tqken cqre of by pqssers by; but generqlly they survive off of the cru,bs thqt fqll fro, cqfe tqbles qnd trqsh;  Tunsiq is in ,qny zqys rqther si,ilqr:  it is q developing country...pqrt of the second zorld thqt is so often forgotten qbout.  feeding on the scqps of europe qnd zqndering fro, plqce to plqce__identity__seeking qffinity;  they qppeqrqnce of being surprisingly cleqn; zith serious issues under the surfqce; the cobblestones thqt line the ground qnd the old MEDINA _city_ qre spqced too fqr qpqrt to support one qnother;  in q country fq,ous for its ,osqics qnd intricqte qrt; the plqces onto zhich the people zqlk in unsturdy qnd uneven; ,qking it extre,ely hqrd not to stu,ble qgqin qnd qgqin;;; segregqted qnd cut off;  not pqrt of the ,iddle eqst; not pqrt of europe; not pqrt of greqter qfricq... the MAGHREB of north qfricq is isolqted qnd forgotten on every side; denied support qnd qdoining co,,unity fro, its neighbors;;; ,qking life unsteqdy;  though they bqlqnce things here zith i,pressive skill:  Tunis hqs the ,ost consistent econo,y in the region; qnd is the ,ost seculqr of the region qs zell::: pqrticulqrly zhen co,pqred to its neighboring qlgeriq:  ///hey you knoz zhqt?  this ,qy be q good zqy to tell you so,e of the things thqt i otherzise could not zrite, tunisiq hqs so,e of the ,ost extre,e internet lqzs in the zorld:  so,e e,qil servers do not even zork::: zhich is zhy you hqve not received e,qil fro, ,e__ i cqn only get it to zork every once in q zhile__ donùt give up on it or qnything; but dont expect q speedy reply either;  the citiwens qre not enturely qble to openly express opinions; it isnt so,ething thqt ze tqlk qbout:  qnd thqt is qll i zill chqnce for noz:

qfter 4 hours of qrqbic clqss ,y brqin is rqther tired qnd pretty fried_ ,ost dqys i only hqve it for é hours; qnd so,e dqys for 4;  i q, frustrqted thqt i do not speqk french;  it is qll qround qnd distrqcts ,e fro, focusing on qrqbic; qnd even then the lqnguqge is confused zith Tunsiqn diqlect; MAGHREBI qrqbic qnd clqssicql qrqbic zhich is zhqt i studied in school; qnd zhqt they speqk in the gulf__,ore or less;  i finqlly figured out zho Dqvid re,inds ,e of: ANDY NEWTON;;; it is hilqrious:  he is good to hqve qround; very honorqble ,qn thqn looks out for the girls zell:  he ,qkes ,e reqliwe hoz ,uch  i reqlly do qppreciqte TM qlu,ni__especiqlly the guys; there reqlly is so,ething to be sqid for thqt co,,on experience;  qnyzqy; Dqvid tells qll the guys thqt co,e up qnd qsk hi, to introduce the, to us thqt ze qre ,qrried or thqt he cqnnot introduce us to the, ::: or si,ply to go qzqy __YAKFII is si,ilqr to ENOUGH__, i qppreciqte hi,:  ::but for qll of you qssu,ing qlu,ni out there; there zill be no chqnce of hi, being other thqn q friend; so you cqn be qt peqce:  hq::: this is hoz bqd it is:: KARIM took us to the e,bqssy to hqve q conference zith the the guy hi,self__it zqs pretty incredible qctuqlly;;; he tqlked to ,e qbout WOMEN in the profession qnd suggested qn qpplicqtion for qn internship... im undecide but getting q bit zqry of zhy the govern,ent__of different countries__is eqger for ,e to zork for the,: qnd i reqliwed thqt i zqs qctuqlly hqving q REALLY hqrd ti,e zith the ,en here zhen q MARINE introduced hi,self to ,e qnd i zqs truely pleqsed to tqlk zith hi,:: you knoz its bqd zhen ,ilirqry guys stqrt to see, nice:   qlthough to be fqir i did see hi, qgqin on sqturdqy qt q "GAME NIGHT" orgqniwed by so,e girls i ,et qt church;; but still:::::  over here i rock qt pictionqry; ze blez the other teq, qzqy:  it zqs fun; ze plqyed for countries; zith no ,qps qllozed:: good thing i spend qll thqt ti,e looking qt flqgs;; it zqs q good ti,e:: the girls ,qde BROWNIES qnd i reqliwed thqt i hqvent hqd ,uch reql food lqtely:::: donùt zorry though:  i bqsicqlly eqt crossoints qnd pqstq: ::: but thqt isnùt so different fro, oregon:  RAMADAN is co,,ing soon;; i zill be fqsting zith the rest of the country if youùd like to join me:::

oh my time is up qnd i didnt even get through things qt qll!  ok:: mqybe next ti,e iùll hqve ti,e to use the right keys;; sorry qbout thqt

MA'SALAAMA

MOST IMPORTANTLY:

01121620953456

29 Avenue Bahi Ladgham

Nasr 2

2037 Ariana

Tunis, Tunisia

the above is, of course, my address and phone number.  the country code and area code are included... just dial the whole thing and it will get you to my phone.  but there are a could other things you should know: 1- i do not have voice mail... no one dose.  this is very sad.  it means that you cannot leace me messages.  2- caller id does not work abroad, so i wont know who you are.  3- i can receive, but not send text messages, 4- ... now this one is important... i am 9 hours ahead of PST, which means that i am 6 hours ahead of EST... this may not sound like much, but it is a complicated matter if you are trying to call with phone cards on cell phones.  i reccommend land lines.  i have class at 8:30 in the morning here, and get up at 6 to get there in time... which means that i cannot stay up late.  the best time for you to call me is sometime during your morning, or early afternoon... but it would be wonderful for you to call at all.  5-it is free for me to receive calls, but unfortunately not free for you to call me.  it is crazy expensive to call you... so i will try, but it will not likely not happen often.  ... i think that takes care of the buisiness with the phone.

on to the address.  if you so desire to send me mail (i would jump up and down), it takes 3 weeks to get from you to me, or from me to you, at the least.  and no matter how clearly you write TUNISIA, sometimes it still ends up in Tanzania... which is the other end of the continent, and i shan't be able to read it.  ...i doubt you'll be sending me packages, but if you do, please be careful what you put inside of them.  each package is opened, and if the contents is found to be questionable in any way (or if someone is bored) they keep it and i have to come in to be questioned.  ...i don't really want to be questioned, so please be careful... if after this, the package is released to me, i have to pay for the man power of opening the package, the call to me, rent for the package while it is held at the office, and for it to be repackaged again.  ...as you can see, its an ordeal.  ...however, if you wanted to send small ones with silly things, or food only avaliable in the US, i wouldn't think it would be too much of a problem.  ..ok, whew, i think we're done with that.

.......

and now, since xanga is mass email:

...the problem with putting pictures of Tunis up here is that as soon as you all see them, you will instantly lose all sympathy for me when i tell you that i am lonely or missing you. ... so if you could possibly keep from doing that, i'll try to post pictures whenever i can.  i do not have a digital camera, but my roommates both do.  it might not be possible to transfer them to the internet... which our university does not have, and certainly is not avaliable at home... but i shall try. 

on the subject of roommates: i have 2.  one is from Newport, Gina, she lived in Naples for a year and is the biggest flirt, and Catholic, I've ever met... but she is funm she's a biochemistry major.  Erika is from Salem, and looks like a Swiss Miss if you've ever seen one.  She is applying to law school and when she is not studying Arabic, is constantly reading about Harvard and Georgetown..... i like her.  I know a bit more Arabic than my roommates, but that will shortly be remedied.  Our first day of class was today, and we took a monstrous test that took almost the entire time.  It is only the 3 of us in class, and at home, so .... potentially we could get seriously sick of one another.  let's hope not.  Erika is sick right now.  I stayed up with her most of last night while she emptied her stomach over and over again.  not pleasant.  ...i have actually been sick since i got here, but not exactly in the same way.  i had a fever and rather intense dizziness just after arriving.  the fever is gone now, but naseua comes and goes. 

the french students --there are 4-- are funny.  there is one boy, David, who speaks french very well and tries his best to look out for all the girls who seem not to realize the things the locals are yelling at them.  he seems like a good guy, a goof ball, but fun.  he is staying here after the program to do a medical internship... so if i say i'll have a friend.  Boram is Korean, and her english is a bit tricky, not to mention her french.  she is sweet.  childlike and still full of wonder, like no speck of cynicism has infected her, beautiful... perhaps a bit naive.  she likes me, which i find funny, since i am extrememly cynical... but that's ok.  i like her too.  the other two are Rachel and Allison... who've known each other for ever and have not seemed so far to approach the experience with a ....um.... humble attitude.  Allison wants to work in Africa with Engineers Without Borders.... but Rachel wants very much not to have a north african accent. 

Karim and Laura are amazing... but quickly fading in their protectiveness.  the first day he was very fatherly... he still is, but in the bird kicking their little one out of the nest kind of way.  "let them do it on their own" was his phrase for yesterday.  Still... i love him.... he's like my Tunisian grandfather of something... so great.

we live in the basement flat underneath a family that rents it out to tenents.  There is a Tunisian English prof. next door, and 3 Cote d'Ivorie refugees accross from us.  it is very independent, but they helped Gina and i attempt to cook Couscous last night while Erika was sick... unfortunately my roommates are no better chefs than i... what are we going to do?  Still... we found the Tunsian brand of Nutella... so we'll survive just fine.

i am having ice withdrawls

on the ferry on the way over here, i met a family who just happened to pastor the only english speaking protestant church in the country (there is one other that speaks french).  i went on sunday but it is too soon to have anything to say about it... except that there were a couple other american 20 somethings there and they were welcoming... but in the church sort of way and not in the happy-to-see-you sort of way... although later i did get a call from one who wanted to invite me to play games with them this weekend.... we shall see.  i may need them before too long, or i may spend the time talking to tunisians... either way, it is nice to have them here. 

Karim introduced me to a Humanities Prof yesterday that he said i should meet with and speak to... i'm not really sure why... i think it might have had something to do with teaching though, because i later heard the prof talking about helping me find an apt.  Karim is funny.  as soon as the teaching jobs were on the table, he refused to let me answer until i had been here a couple months. ....he is SO a guy to have on your side. 

(i saw a guy walking down the street wearing an ATF LIVE THE DIFFERENCE tour shirt... my feet almost forgot how to keep moving.  to find an atf shirt here... in a 99.5% muslim country... and that it would be MY tour... bizarre.  but i didn't dare ask him where he got it... ... ... the guys are scoundrels.  at least 90% anyway... so not good for me.  it could actually do some serious damage, i fear.  and that is the whole point: i fear.  i have a hard enough time with boys who are not scoundrels... after being here a week my compassion is waning... ... ... if i am here indefinately... ... it may just ruin any chance a man ever had with me.  maybe that is good. anyway, we'll see.  G*d help the man who decides to pursue me...)

...oh there is so much else to say...  i have lost the words almost completely...

...if you call me, i bet i will find some...

i love you all

...i am in Tunis.

i don^t even know where to start.  ::perhaps with the strange keyboards; for one thing.  letters are in different places; and punctuation avaliable is different; obviously. _you have to press shift to get ¨.¨ wierd_ anyway there are more important things.

i have not yet been here 24 hours; but my heart is overwhelmed with thankfulness.  Karim and Laura were waiting at the ferry dock... joy of joys.  and before id even been here an hour i had 2 actual job offers_to teach english and to teach... im actually not sure_ that i could take after classes end in Dec; theye are set up by contract with the government... which by the way is a lot different than i thought; but that is not a topic for public internet...

there is so much more; but i am out of time... more will come; and ill update you on france when i have more time.

i love you all more than you know.

...there is just something about irish music that makes it physically difficult to remain still.  last night i was in the pub of the hotel listening to a white haired irishman sing some fabulous songs and drinking tea untill the pot was empty.  an older gentleman came and sat down at the table and said, "i just want to let you know that in a minute one of those blokes at the bar is going to come over here and ask you to dance.  i seriously suggest that you refuse.  Just wanted to warn you."  i thanked him for his concern, contemplated leaving but decided that i was not finished enjoying the music and tea, so i stayed.  moments later, the invitation to dance came--from him!  oh i have to give him credit for creativity, surely made me laugh.  i must say though, i took his advice and kept my feet under my table... afterall, i had tea to finish.

being in the country that bears my name, and holds a considerable amount of my heritage, has proved to be a rather transcendent experience... but i am such a nerd.  most people come to ireland and delve into the old legends and buy crystal (who knew that ireland is the premier place to get crystal? anyway, i'm not leaving with any, but it's pretty), and i... i buy books and read the old fathers.  Joyce.  Yeats.  i suppose Heaney isn't really old, but still.  yes, i've been here 4 days and i have acquired 3 new books... as if i had the room.  i get lost in them far easier than in faery legends for the tourists.   

When You are Old

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,

And nodding by the fire, take down this book,

And slowly read, and dream of the soft look

Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty with love false or true,

But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,

Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled

And paced upon the mountains overhead

And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

oh that i may be so lucky.

-----------------------------------------------------------

eireann                                                                   ireland

...the clock is ticking in the upper right corner telling me that my time is running out.

and i have so much to say...

somehow i always end up in little beach towns.... it is lovely.  Tre` More` ...wish you could see it. 

i am surprised at how warm the Celtic Sea is.  The sky changes really fast here, and has surprisingly good sunsets... and brilliant twilight.

---tick--tock---

oh no.

...i did something i have wanted to do for a long time, it was even on my *list.

i rang church bells.  yes.  talked to a gentleman about American politics and climbed up to the church tower, and played Amazing Grace on the church bells. 

Rosslare, Cork, Kilkinney, Waterford, Tre More, Wexford.... i have certainly enjoyed my stay.

but i tell ya, something is seriously wrong with me.  i have turned into an old woman who requires a nap.  i have not had jet lag like this since i came back from cambodia.  every night at 3 am (here) i wake up and try as i may *cannot go back to sleep until 6/7 in the morning.  which incidentally is when i need to get up to get started with the day... sad sad.  this means that i enevitably fall asleep on the train.  bad form, i know... i rush my eyes open and tell myself that i am in ireland and i need to stay awake to see the *stunning country.  ...it doesn't work.  but i am happy to say that i have seen most of where i've been, and it really is beautiful. 

---tick--- on my

tomorrow i am taking the ferry to France... and i am really intimidated.  i desperately do not want to be that american.  you know, that one.  the one who goes to another country and does not speak the language.  oh wretched traveller that i am, who will deliver me?  ...so i will butcher the language-- but i will try, you know i will.  oh how i wish i had one of you polyglots with me.  someday...

my time is almost through.  i want to say that everyone should read Yeats while riding on a train in Ireland.  it is neccessary.  and that next you should watch the sky until you realize you are not breathing (and promptly begin again).

ireland has a profound shortage of letter boxes, and their ice cream tastes like the whip cream costco cake icing.