Tunis. Tunis. Tunis. I am still reeling. Bon courage.
Please, I hope everyone stays safe.
Mounir Khelifa. Have I mentioned recently that I adore this man?
Moureen wrote to see if he was ok and he responded with this most beautiful letter:
"How can I talk about the great historic events shaking Tunisia now without thinking of William Wordsworth describing his feelings about the French Revolution:
Bliss was it in that dawn to be alive,
But to be young was very heaven...
Yes, at the risk of waxing too lyrical I would say that Tunisia at present is fashioning the first modern Western-style democratic revolution in the Arab and Islamic world.
Civil society and the youth brought down the dictator that the French paper Liberation dubbed the Ceausescu of the sand! Tyrannical power is weak 5another quote from WW) and we, alas, tend to forget it. Ben Ali and his cronies collapsed after 21 days of a momentous popular uprising that began as street riots in a small provincial city (Sidi Bouzid), escalated into nationwide protests and culminated into a political revolution that ousted him on Friday 14 January.
Now democratic transition: a government of national unity was formed tonight: it has 6 ruling party (RCD) members but 13 of the ministerial portfolios went to the opposition parties and to personalities from civil society.
One secretary of state (for IT) went to a 26-year old blogger who hacked Ben Ali's censorship apparatus and allowed millions of Tunisians to share information and videos on the insurrection in real time! Isn't this amazing!
The Islamists are still out there and waiting to reap the fruits, but we'll be vigilant. No Islamic Republic here, the revolution was a civil and democratic one, and we we won't allow anyone to steal it. Yes we'll be vigilant.
Tunisians are great, they are 'tayyara.' You'll be proud of them."
Monday, January 17, 2011
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Sura 94 - (The Laying Open)
It's been a while. Sura 94 has been a favorite of mine since I took my intro to the Qur'an class sophomore year. This poem is loosely based on themes in the Sura, and like many passages in Qur'an, seeks to describe G-d as gender-ambiguous. Hope it is well received.
الإنشراح
The Laying Open
I do not know what we were.
I did not know then what nestled and bled blackly between your ribs.
We came once in the noontime when you were stooped and dragging heavy things.
Like two white winds, we pulled you with us past your mother and your father,
past the dry scars where the heat had cut the bean fields,
the flaps of loosely tied home tents
the hazy shiver of limping lambs
There was a moment’s shock.
her impossibly fine blade against your paper skin,
His laying you open against the dust,
We scuffled briefly in the cloud you’d kicked up
but soon you let those winds sweep in and around the corners and the tight spaces.
You let them possess each organ in turn,
every vessel that held the rare well waters of your small being.
Only winds that cut long and slanting across sand and
bicker endlessly over the truths of history and humanity and the nature of happiness
could so decisively wash away the black fist that had imbedded itself within your heart.
In an a golden basin, we ran our fingers along each glistening surface of your greatest wonderment,
flicked dark cancerous imperfections to the sand for the beetles and the jackals so that you might be free of those heavy things.
your heart was hot with the hurts you’d collected,
swallowed, circulated in your blood.
I do not know what each of those things were,
but the white winds swept snow up and in to smother the coals.
You had never seen snow.
After the hot things there is the easing.
After the hot things there is the easing.
الإنشراح
The Laying Open
I do not know what we were.
I did not know then what nestled and bled blackly between your ribs.
We came once in the noontime when you were stooped and dragging heavy things.
Like two white winds, we pulled you with us past your mother and your father,
past the dry scars where the heat had cut the bean fields,
the flaps of loosely tied home tents
the hazy shiver of limping lambs
There was a moment’s shock.
her impossibly fine blade against your paper skin,
His laying you open against the dust,
We scuffled briefly in the cloud you’d kicked up
but soon you let those winds sweep in and around the corners and the tight spaces.
You let them possess each organ in turn,
every vessel that held the rare well waters of your small being.
Only winds that cut long and slanting across sand and
bicker endlessly over the truths of history and humanity and the nature of happiness
could so decisively wash away the black fist that had imbedded itself within your heart.
In an a golden basin, we ran our fingers along each glistening surface of your greatest wonderment,
flicked dark cancerous imperfections to the sand for the beetles and the jackals so that you might be free of those heavy things.
your heart was hot with the hurts you’d collected,
swallowed, circulated in your blood.
I do not know what each of those things were,
but the white winds swept snow up and in to smother the coals.
You had never seen snow.
After the hot things there is the easing.
After the hot things there is the easing.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
A dream about Tunis
I had a long and very exciting dream last night that I had been invited to return to Tunisia for another two weeks. I'd only been home for a few days but my family (here) and I figured it was a great idea. Something like half of the SIT group had decided to stay in Tunis as well and had gotten some great deal renting out an entire apartment building with a big kitchen. I was initially thinking (in this dream) that it would cost a fortune to go back especially since I have just flown home, but the prospect of free housing and food for two weeks seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. Well, I ended up going and my Mom there was so happy to see me again! I was all stressed out when I arrived though because I hadn't arranged for a flight to get home ever. She reassured me though, and told me we'd worry about it "fi'l spe'h," "in the morning, in the morning" she kept telling me.
Believe it or not, this morning was the first time I woke up sure that there was Arabic spoken in my dream. For whatever reason, the phrase I've got on loop in my head right now and for the past few days is 'ki met heb," something my Mom said at least a dozen times a day, "as you like."
Well, it is beautiful outside today in Storrs, Connecticut and I am enjoying our screen porch and working diligently on my honors proposal for school. It makes me excited just thinking about Tunisian music and Tunisian musicians again.
Well, n'harik zine (have a good day!) and in'shallah lebes (I hope God wills you are well).
Believe it or not, this morning was the first time I woke up sure that there was Arabic spoken in my dream. For whatever reason, the phrase I've got on loop in my head right now and for the past few days is 'ki met heb," something my Mom said at least a dozen times a day, "as you like."
Well, it is beautiful outside today in Storrs, Connecticut and I am enjoying our screen porch and working diligently on my honors proposal for school. It makes me excited just thinking about Tunisian music and Tunisian musicians again.
Well, n'harik zine (have a good day!) and in'shallah lebes (I hope God wills you are well).
Thursday, May 21, 2009
A quick apology is in order.
As probably many of you are more than well aware, my spelling has always left something to be desired. I've just now had the time to go back and sicked the spell check hound on some previous entries. Sorry for any pain that any formerly horrendously spelled words may have brought upon you, the reader. I swear, believe it or not I used to be far worse.
Home
Well.
I arrived home in one piece just two days ago. The experience of returning to my family, my house, my town, my country has been really more than a bit mind boggling. Not only is it strange not to hear to call to prayer five times a day, it is far stranger simply to hear so many people speaking English, and so fluently too, without Tunisian accents! To see couples kissing in public, to eat meals with forks instead of spoons and pieces of baguette as utensils, to watch crime shows instead of ninja turtles, Saudi televangelists, or Tom and Jerry dubbed in modern standard Arabic is a big change. Truly reliable supplies of toilet paper and upright showers with shower curtains are something to get used to again as well. Everything here is so clean, so green, beautified in a really different way. It was something else to eat my Dad's curry again and drive to my high school this evening to see my brother's final orchestra concert. I had been so excited about non-processed this and that, cheese, pickles, apples, and salad. There are all here in my refrigerator. No one if forcing food at me "Koul! Koul! mush benin? Behe, behe!" and it is acceptable for me to retreat into my room to read or type or just look out the window at the rhododendrons that are just starting to burst open their buds.
The only way I can describe this is that everything is familiar, yet somehow very changed. I have returned from so many trips before, even from longer ones (I lived in Australia with my family for six months when I was 13), but I have never felt so...well...bamboozled.
For old times sake, here are some of the things I left in Tunisia but could never forget...
The president's mosque from just near one of the Carthage TGM (train) stops.
My nephew (Skander) and my cousin (Amina).
Our SIT family of darbukas (mine made it safely back to Storrs, Connecticticut.
The unbelievable roses that overflowed over my neighbor's fence. There were white ones as well that had intertwined with these pink ones.
This is hopefully by no means the end of this blog. I'd love to keep writing here whensoever I am moved to talk about Tunisia-related things. In all likelihood I will be continuing my Independent study project, ("Fusion" music in Tunisian Identity in the Age of Global Stereo) next year as the basis for an honor's project / thesis this coming year upon my return to Oberlin. I am sure I will test the waters on this blog as well as you've all been listening to me ramble about Tunisia for this long already.
Signing off for now...
I arrived home in one piece just two days ago. The experience of returning to my family, my house, my town, my country has been really more than a bit mind boggling. Not only is it strange not to hear to call to prayer five times a day, it is far stranger simply to hear so many people speaking English, and so fluently too, without Tunisian accents! To see couples kissing in public, to eat meals with forks instead of spoons and pieces of baguette as utensils, to watch crime shows instead of ninja turtles, Saudi televangelists, or Tom and Jerry dubbed in modern standard Arabic is a big change. Truly reliable supplies of toilet paper and upright showers with shower curtains are something to get used to again as well. Everything here is so clean, so green, beautified in a really different way. It was something else to eat my Dad's curry again and drive to my high school this evening to see my brother's final orchestra concert. I had been so excited about non-processed this and that, cheese, pickles, apples, and salad. There are all here in my refrigerator. No one if forcing food at me "Koul! Koul! mush benin? Behe, behe!" and it is acceptable for me to retreat into my room to read or type or just look out the window at the rhododendrons that are just starting to burst open their buds.
The only way I can describe this is that everything is familiar, yet somehow very changed. I have returned from so many trips before, even from longer ones (I lived in Australia with my family for six months when I was 13), but I have never felt so...well...bamboozled.
For old times sake, here are some of the things I left in Tunisia but could never forget...
The president's mosque from just near one of the Carthage TGM (train) stops.
My nephew (Skander) and my cousin (Amina).
Our SIT family of darbukas (mine made it safely back to Storrs, Connecticticut.
The unbelievable roses that overflowed over my neighbor's fence. There were white ones as well that had intertwined with these pink ones.
This is hopefully by no means the end of this blog. I'd love to keep writing here whensoever I am moved to talk about Tunisia-related things. In all likelihood I will be continuing my Independent study project, ("Fusion" music in Tunisian Identity in the Age of Global Stereo) next year as the basis for an honor's project / thesis this coming year upon my return to Oberlin. I am sure I will test the waters on this blog as well as you've all been listening to me ramble about Tunisia for this long already.
Signing off for now...
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Throw back to Northern Excursion
Here are some miscellaneous pictures from our northern excursion several weeks ago.
It is becoming spring. This is somewhere along the road where we stopped to eat...
...mishweey, wonderful grilled lamb along-side freshly baked bread thrown on the grill for a bit accompanied by olive oil and slata mishweya (grilled pepper salad)
You place your order (ours was for 16 or 17 people) and you can stand and watch them carve up the entire lamb carcass in a few well-exacted strokes of a very sharp knife. Not something for the faint vegetarians or feint-of-heart meat eaters.
mmm...the end product. Greasy, smokey, and delicious.
Ghar el Melh, an absolutely spectacular coast line walk we took at the very tip of Tunisia quite close to the northern-most point of Africa. The main goal of the walk along the cliffs was to reach...
This shrine to the patron saint of the region. There are two care-takers now, a couple, one of whom (the wife) is said to be a direct descendant. They were extremely generous and friendly and invited us in to look around, sit and rest for a while and drink, of course, a cup of mint tea with them. It is common practice to bring a small gift so we came bearing a box of sugar cubes. The woman told us, in an extremely poetic explanation about the place and the saint who never performed any miracles, by who never did a single thing of evil in his life.
Some of the decorations and tributes inside the shrine which is also a home. This is Toney who is listening to a story attentively and cooling off from the trek there which took over an hour.
I know this photo is over-exposed in parts, but boy does it capture the essence of this place and these people who welcomed us into their home and into their lives. Risking sounding a little hoaky, the place really did have a calm restfulness to it. It was hard to leave.
Beautiful hills of the north. This was across the road from a huge field of fava beans.
Karen petting a five-day-old goat at a pottery workshop / home in Sejnen. Again, we were welcomed in and invited to watch an expert make a perfectly symmetrical put by hand in about two minutes. I was fascinated and fixated on her dexterity which was utterly fascinating to watch. Years of repetition.
The "fingers" at Tabarka in the 6:00 light.
The cork forests between Tabarka and Le Kef (near the Algerian border). A lot of honey in this region as well sold in jars along the road in tiny stands.
An un-identified building at the ancient Roman marble quarries of Chemtou (I don't think this building dates back nearly that far). Some of the best marble in the country for many of the Roman monuments still standing came from this region.
They had some very picturesque donkeys as well and nice views from the top of the cliff.
The almost sleepy town of Le Kef were the tea is strong and people really want to chat you up in the street. We happened to arrive just before the beginning of a 24 hr. theater, dance, and music festival which was a lucky coincidence—I heard a fabulous Oud and Qanuun concert.
The Ottoman Kasba in Le Kef.
Top of the Kasba with a great view of the medina and newer part of town below.
Le Kef and Djerba are historically the the two main Jewish centers in Tunisia, at least until 1967 when most Jews left the country. There is still a some-what sizable community in Djerba still, but I was told that the last Jew left Le Kef a few decades ago.
I just love this picture and the light. There was more graffiti (some great stuff) in Le Kef than anywhere else we've been in Tunisia so far.
Jupiter's temple at Douga, one of the best preserved Roman towns in Tunisia and in the world. The name "Douga" came from the Berber/numid word "Thouga." The town is not laid out like a typical Roman town (with the two main cross streets) because the Romans took what was left by the Indigenous people and made the most of it. Also, the topography (it's along a big a hill) really dictated how it was set up in the first place.
These were once latrines...now a good place for a sit-down.
Ok, enough procrastinating. Onward and forward to work on my project and English tutoring this afternoon. A friend and I have been teaching English at a little non-profit organization in a low-income neighborhood about 20 minutes away.
It is becoming spring. This is somewhere along the road where we stopped to eat...
...mishweey, wonderful grilled lamb along-side freshly baked bread thrown on the grill for a bit accompanied by olive oil and slata mishweya (grilled pepper salad)
You place your order (ours was for 16 or 17 people) and you can stand and watch them carve up the entire lamb carcass in a few well-exacted strokes of a very sharp knife. Not something for the faint vegetarians or feint-of-heart meat eaters.
mmm...the end product. Greasy, smokey, and delicious.
Ghar el Melh, an absolutely spectacular coast line walk we took at the very tip of Tunisia quite close to the northern-most point of Africa. The main goal of the walk along the cliffs was to reach...
This shrine to the patron saint of the region. There are two care-takers now, a couple, one of whom (the wife) is said to be a direct descendant. They were extremely generous and friendly and invited us in to look around, sit and rest for a while and drink, of course, a cup of mint tea with them. It is common practice to bring a small gift so we came bearing a box of sugar cubes. The woman told us, in an extremely poetic explanation about the place and the saint who never performed any miracles, by who never did a single thing of evil in his life.
Some of the decorations and tributes inside the shrine which is also a home. This is Toney who is listening to a story attentively and cooling off from the trek there which took over an hour.
I know this photo is over-exposed in parts, but boy does it capture the essence of this place and these people who welcomed us into their home and into their lives. Risking sounding a little hoaky, the place really did have a calm restfulness to it. It was hard to leave.
Beautiful hills of the north. This was across the road from a huge field of fava beans.
Karen petting a five-day-old goat at a pottery workshop / home in Sejnen. Again, we were welcomed in and invited to watch an expert make a perfectly symmetrical put by hand in about two minutes. I was fascinated and fixated on her dexterity which was utterly fascinating to watch. Years of repetition.
The "fingers" at Tabarka in the 6:00 light.
The cork forests between Tabarka and Le Kef (near the Algerian border). A lot of honey in this region as well sold in jars along the road in tiny stands.
An un-identified building at the ancient Roman marble quarries of Chemtou (I don't think this building dates back nearly that far). Some of the best marble in the country for many of the Roman monuments still standing came from this region.
They had some very picturesque donkeys as well and nice views from the top of the cliff.
The almost sleepy town of Le Kef were the tea is strong and people really want to chat you up in the street. We happened to arrive just before the beginning of a 24 hr. theater, dance, and music festival which was a lucky coincidence—I heard a fabulous Oud and Qanuun concert.
The Ottoman Kasba in Le Kef.
Top of the Kasba with a great view of the medina and newer part of town below.
Le Kef and Djerba are historically the the two main Jewish centers in Tunisia, at least until 1967 when most Jews left the country. There is still a some-what sizable community in Djerba still, but I was told that the last Jew left Le Kef a few decades ago.
I just love this picture and the light. There was more graffiti (some great stuff) in Le Kef than anywhere else we've been in Tunisia so far.
Jupiter's temple at Douga, one of the best preserved Roman towns in Tunisia and in the world. The name "Douga" came from the Berber/numid word "Thouga." The town is not laid out like a typical Roman town (with the two main cross streets) because the Romans took what was left by the Indigenous people and made the most of it. Also, the topography (it's along a big a hill) really dictated how it was set up in the first place.
These were once latrines...now a good place for a sit-down.
Ok, enough procrastinating. Onward and forward to work on my project and English tutoring this afternoon. A friend and I have been teaching English at a little non-profit organization in a low-income neighborhood about 20 minutes away.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Research time...getting hectic
Thank goodness my internet is still working correctly (insh'Allah nothing ever fouls it up again!).
This week I have really started throwing myself into my independent research here which got off to a bit of a slow start last week due to a combination of circumstances (particularly our academic director not speaking with us about our proposals until last Friday...). Anyway, the past two days have been exhilarating, exhausting, exciting, and...well...I'll admit it, more than a little intimidating. The people I've worked with so far have been extremely helpful, open about their opinions, and generous with their time, but just the idea of calling people (some of whom speak more English than others) to make appointments or looking at a list of names of musicians, government-affiliated officials, and music-enthusiast friends of my adviser to be interviewed in the future can be utterly daunting. I am doing my best to just tackle everything head-on (I am two days into that plan and things seem to be going well).
Yesterday I finally got to meet with my personal adviser for my Independent project, Hatem, who is a good friend of Mounir's (our academic director at SIT) and whom I'd met at the very beginning of our stay here for an in-depth tour of the medina (old arab city) of Tunis. he is a writer, playwrite, and poet (among a seemingly endless list of other things). He is an artist.
I met him yesterday at Hotel Africa in the European quarter and went back with him to his "office." He pulled up on his bike, dismounted, and introducted himself. I can't possible describe this man, but he's got to be one of the coolest guys I've met. It been windy and raining that morning and he had a green winter hat (complete with yellow pompom on the top) and a real bounce in his step. Back at his "office," which was a single paint-spattered black table in the open space between rows of seats in a movie theater in the center for culture, we talked over my project. He was really excited that I was interested in what I suppose I will call "fusion music" and simply laid out the broad sweeps of the history of fusion in Tunisia and listed the most influential and interesting artists. Then...he took out his phone and wrote down phone numbers for the majority of the musicians. I am completely blown away by how connected this man is! I'd been fretting that I hadn't been able to talk to Anouar Brahem after the concert a few weeks ago, but now I have his number along with about ten other musicians and directors of various institutions.
This morning I walked just up the hill to the Center for Arab and Mediterranean Music, an institution established in 1992 by the current president both the preservation of Tunisian music and the propotion of new Tunisian music and musicians. The center is located at the historic palace of Baron d'Erlanger (called "Ennejma Ezzahra" or the "Star of Venus"), one of the most prominant musicologists and promotor of the arts from the early 20th century. I was lucky enough to have an hour-long interview with the assistant director who was a great contact. I commented on a really cool instrument hanging on his wall (a chordiphone with a sea turtle shell as its body) and he got really excited and walked me down to the instrument workshop where I met the master craftsman and got to see several Ouds and rebabs under construction. They (the musicologists and crafts men) also aim to re-create instruments that are no longer used today (some of them sub-saharan) from old photographs that are hanging in the shop and in the assistant director's office. What a fascinating job. Can I do that when I grow up? I was reminded of Professor Knight's various organological passions.
Tomorrow I have an interview with the director of a small "off-mainstream" theater in Tunis where they apparently sometimes have fusion music concerts. Hatim will facilitate and translate for me which I hope goes well.
More soon hopefully!
Please post a comment if you are reading here—I'd love to hear how everyone is doing and what is new!
This week I have really started throwing myself into my independent research here which got off to a bit of a slow start last week due to a combination of circumstances (particularly our academic director not speaking with us about our proposals until last Friday...). Anyway, the past two days have been exhilarating, exhausting, exciting, and...well...I'll admit it, more than a little intimidating. The people I've worked with so far have been extremely helpful, open about their opinions, and generous with their time, but just the idea of calling people (some of whom speak more English than others) to make appointments or looking at a list of names of musicians, government-affiliated officials, and music-enthusiast friends of my adviser to be interviewed in the future can be utterly daunting. I am doing my best to just tackle everything head-on (I am two days into that plan and things seem to be going well).
Yesterday I finally got to meet with my personal adviser for my Independent project, Hatem, who is a good friend of Mounir's (our academic director at SIT) and whom I'd met at the very beginning of our stay here for an in-depth tour of the medina (old arab city) of Tunis. he is a writer, playwrite, and poet (among a seemingly endless list of other things). He is an artist.
I met him yesterday at Hotel Africa in the European quarter and went back with him to his "office." He pulled up on his bike, dismounted, and introducted himself. I can't possible describe this man, but he's got to be one of the coolest guys I've met. It been windy and raining that morning and he had a green winter hat (complete with yellow pompom on the top) and a real bounce in his step. Back at his "office," which was a single paint-spattered black table in the open space between rows of seats in a movie theater in the center for culture, we talked over my project. He was really excited that I was interested in what I suppose I will call "fusion music" and simply laid out the broad sweeps of the history of fusion in Tunisia and listed the most influential and interesting artists. Then...he took out his phone and wrote down phone numbers for the majority of the musicians. I am completely blown away by how connected this man is! I'd been fretting that I hadn't been able to talk to Anouar Brahem after the concert a few weeks ago, but now I have his number along with about ten other musicians and directors of various institutions.
This morning I walked just up the hill to the Center for Arab and Mediterranean Music, an institution established in 1992 by the current president both the preservation of Tunisian music and the propotion of new Tunisian music and musicians. The center is located at the historic palace of Baron d'Erlanger (called "Ennejma Ezzahra" or the "Star of Venus"), one of the most prominant musicologists and promotor of the arts from the early 20th century. I was lucky enough to have an hour-long interview with the assistant director who was a great contact. I commented on a really cool instrument hanging on his wall (a chordiphone with a sea turtle shell as its body) and he got really excited and walked me down to the instrument workshop where I met the master craftsman and got to see several Ouds and rebabs under construction. They (the musicologists and crafts men) also aim to re-create instruments that are no longer used today (some of them sub-saharan) from old photographs that are hanging in the shop and in the assistant director's office. What a fascinating job. Can I do that when I grow up? I was reminded of Professor Knight's various organological passions.
Tomorrow I have an interview with the director of a small "off-mainstream" theater in Tunis where they apparently sometimes have fusion music concerts. Hatim will facilitate and translate for me which I hope goes well.
More soon hopefully!
Please post a comment if you are reading here—I'd love to hear how everyone is doing and what is new!
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