What a great time we had in Tunis! Beautiful hotels, nice and friendly people, good food, crazy chaotic markets, historical ruins and much more! All in all, a bit magical and mystical, but that is because of the different traditions, cultures and languages. We always like to explore the surroundings so we went for a walk to take some snapshots on our first day.
Since we both are very bad photographers, we had bought a camera with a special feature... ahem... it could talk. Yes... right... it was a camera for dummies. A Japanese voice kept telling us what to do... some of the things she said was: "Too dark, use flash" or "Too close, check distance" or "Zoom in /zoom out" or "Low battery" and the best message of all was "LOAD FILM." Yes, we really needed those instructions. You can imagine that we had a lot of fun with the camera. The pictures were not so great, but the conversations were! No, not with the camera, but with other people... about the camera. While strolling, barefoot on the beach, we saw a group of camels and a boy asked if we wanted a camel ride. Why not? Yes, okay, let's do it. We could choose either the short ride on the beach or the long ride to a village; and he gestured in the direction of some impressive but distant mountains. We wanted the long trip, not really knowing how far it was going to be.
While mounting the camel, I asked my husband if he could take a picture of me and Aziz, my camel. But then Aziz started to stand up and I was swayed to the front, left, right and then to the back. My goodness, I really had to hold on to the saddle with both hands! My husband was laughing out loudly until his camel started to get up and Hubby was thrown to the front, left, right and back. I shouted, "Hold on to the camera, Honey!" But it was too late; he had to hold on to the saddle and, in the process dropped our new camera. The camel stepped right on top of it. We had heard nothing, but then again, the camera was not programmed to say "Ouch!"
Upon inspection, it appeared that our camera had a big burst. It still snapped pictures, but it never spoke a word again. That was the beginning of our long and silent trip. We went on the first part along the highway, which was very boring. I remember being impressed by such a nice and expensive highway; but after 20 minutes, we hadn't seen even one car, only one camel from the opposite direction. Finally, Mohammed our guide led us away from the highway. Our camels walked along a dry river bedding, which we crossed. The hills became higher and the valleys deeper. The land became dryer, rocky and rough. Everywhere we looked, there was no sight of hotels or any other dwellings – we were really in the middle of nowhere!
I loved it, I loved the silence. Silence awakens our consciousness to the elements of life. The three camels, the three of us, the burning sun, the cooling wind, the view of the mountains; it was mesmerizing and it felt like going back in time. I remember when we reached the ridge and looked into a valley, we saw a few clay huts built in the circle of the valley, but when I looked inside the huts, they appeared empty. There were just a few pots and pans very basic, simple and clean. Although Mohammed did not speak English, we understood that the huts were occupied, but the men were out hunting (don't know what because we saw no animals) and the women and children were farming. (Where? How? We hardly saw any vegetation).
Some clothes were hanging on a line and waving in the wind. Suddenly a lady came from behind a hut and pointed to our camera so we started to shoot some pictures not knowing what the results would be since the camel had stepped on it and the camera now refused to talk and tell us what to do. The lady took some dresses and scarves from the line and we dressed up like natives with turbans and all. She showed us around and invited us into her small hut, about 2x3 metres; and in the window, I saw the cutest little chameleon. Actually, besides those three camels, that was the first animal we had encountered on that trip. We had not seen one bird, goat, lizard or any other creature; not even a flower.
The tiny black chameleon looked more like a perfect toy because it did not move. When I reached out to see if it was still alive, the woman got very upset. She screamed, grabbed my arms and pulled me outside as Mohammed came to calm her down. Relieved to see the chameleon blink its eyes and make some crazy movements, I calmed down too. It is so awkward when communication is not possible and we have to rely on our senses and body language. Suddenly, the weather changed and we had to get moving fast. We changed back into our own outfits again, but the woman did not want to give me back my favourite colourful "pareo." She could take anything except my "pareo." After offering her my watch or earrings or both, we were happy to see that twinkle appear in her eyes again and the corners of her lips go up again. As the clouds became darker, we waved goodbye to the lady, mounted the camels and hit the road again. We reached just in time to thank the camels and we paid the guide double the price...which, according to his eyes and smile, he liked. When we reached the hotel, the thunder storm started. It rained the whole night and we could hear a constant rumbling. I always wondered why the woman had been so upset when I reached to check the chameleon.
Last week, I was reading about some African legends and maybe our experience in Tunis has to do with the following: "Myths from across Africa tell how death came into the world. The supreme god meant for humans to be immortal, but through an unlucky mistake, they received death instead of eternal life. Some stories relate that the god told a cautious chameleon to carry the news of eternal life to earth, but a faster lizard with news of death arrived first. A tale told by the Luyia people (ethnic groups or clans in Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania) relates that a chameleon cursed people with death, because a man broke the laws of hospitality by refusing to share his food with the chameleon. No unsophisticated African will touch a chameleon if he can help it; nor does he like to see a European handling one."
