Sidi Bou Said

This spot at the top of a very long hill is an often photographed place. Sidi Bou Said is on the outskirts of Tunis. A wealthy French baron in 1912 decreed that all the buildings would be blue and white. We hiked a long way in the sun so by the time we got to the top we were hot and beginning to complain.

We stopped to check out this door. This door is really really old. I don't remember the specifics. I think there is someone buried behind there. Anyway, the pattern though around the door in the yellow tile is a lion's paw. We saw it everywhere. This type of tile is very traditional. I found the sameness of the tile work and architecture, at once, comforting and disturbing. I loved the patterns. I loved the color and the intricate carving work. At the same time, it felt so static. The art, at least in this sense, has stayed and stayed for many centuries. The Ville Nouvelle, or new city, was fairly plain not particularly innovative. It was sad that the old style has not been built upon. We stopped at one point to try a special creme called Assida. This creme is only eaten during the time of the prophet Mohammed's birth. Other places make this same dessert but in Tunisia it is made with nuts from Cypress trees rather than pine nuts. It is a little bitter and rich at the same time. I only had one bite.



The very top of this torturous hill yielded this amazing view. From there you can see the bay that opens up to the Sea. The breeze was so gentle, so comfortable. We just sat and took deep breaths. The days up to this point had been so intense that the place was made that much more precious. We wandered around a bit, sat, took pictures. Jordan, seen below, treated us to a rendition of MmmmBop. The old Hansen tune. She had an amazing voice. I couldn't find the video to play for you here but these ladies are just chilling out. The young woman above is Sarah One. She was one of the babies of the group, quiet. I didn't get to know her very well and I wished I had.



The picture below is the cemetery at the top of this hill. There was also a lighthouse. I sat in the cemetery alone for a while, surrounded by the past. The foreignness, the sea and the quiet allowed me to contemplate for a moment the dead. The sameness of death really hit me. It takes all regardless of faith, country or politics. It was very sobering to put Tunisia in that context. I imagined the suffering of the families of those who were resting there. That grief isn't some unique or alien sorrow. We all feel the magnitude of loss. It was a privilege to experience that. It changed the way I saw the people on the street after that. I felt a new awareness of them, a new connection.