I am a farmer’s daughter

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Whattsapp is great for keeping in touch wherever in the world you are, and I’ve been sharing some of the farmland I’ve been traveling through the last few days with my siblings. I’m so very fortunate to share life with four others who I have known since I can remember, and with whom I have so many core memories. A view of a man on a tractor in what can best be described as a lab coat reminded me of some forgotten memory of pa wearing one of those to milk the cows when we were quite young. The haying also reminds me of teen years when we were united in our shared complaints, and yet also in the satisfaction of completing hard things. You may tire of these pictures of fields. Rest assured you are only seeing a few of many. Also I will be headed south toward arid and desert soon.

I tried to reach several points of interest using Google maps, but multiple times the blacktop petered out, and then the gravel turned to deep ruts, and I turned around in tight quarters to attempt the next thing. I don’t think there’s any roadside assistance available here. But every road is a scenic byway littered with wild flowers, storks, donkeys, sheep and goats, and so much more, so even the failures were fun.

I started out this morning by stopping to top up my tank, despite it being 3/4 full. So far there have been enough fuel stations that I am not very worried, but my guess is that if I had to resort to these roadside stands, the engine may object. It’s fascinating to see these on the edges of towns, despite there being a fuel station. I assume there must be either a type of fuel consideration, or perhaps it is much cheaper. Some have gravity pumps, and some just containers of various shades of yellow and brown fluid.

car picnic

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Warm crusty bread and soft cheese for lunch. I stopped at a grocery for car snacks, and saw a boulangerie nearby with a line. I stopped in after, seeing the line was down to just a few. Alas, the bread cupboard was bare, but somehow they made me understand that more was coming soon. I held out my hand with a variety of coins to a woman waiting next to me and she selected what I needed to pay. Then we waited for about 5 minutes til a large basket of baguettes was carried in, and the woman working handed me one, still warm from the oven. I drove on until I found a shady spot to pull over, and there I had my lunch.

Monday meander

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On my final walk round the center of Bizerte last evening, I paused to watch some kind of tea being made that everyone seemed to be holding. It has roasted nuts (almonds, filberts and a couple of other options), hot water and a mystery ingredient, with a sprig of mint stuck on top, served in a very small paper cup.

Earlier in the day, I walked to the sea and ran into this camel hobbled in the grass. She seemed to want to discuss something, but I kept my distance.

The two chairs interested me. They seemed to be holding places for someone, but they were on a side street near the Islamic cemetery. So many things I don’t comprehend. French is so far the most common spoken language, although I’m sure that my view is slanted by interacting with people who are working in tourism or hospitality, or are shop keepers. My French vocabulary is infinitesimal, but we always start by exchanging ‘bonjour’. From there it goes quickly downhill. When necessary, Google translate steps into the gap.

Today I ended up in Tabarka around lunchtime. I ended up in a small open air place, squished into a corner next to a table of 4 teen girls. They got the giggles watching me and the waiter decide what I would have, with my lack of French and his smattering of English. We agreed on scallops, which come with spaghetti, and I waited to see what would come. Something got lost between me and the kitchen, and I got chicken, but I said nothing and ate as the girls seemed to be discussing something about me, albeit very politely. When they left to go back to school, one of the girls played a trick on another, and the waiter and a woman working there all laughed with me and while I don’t know the words said, we understood each other.

I am finding it hard to locate a restaurant sometimes, because the places labeled cafe or coffee shop are clearly mens’ domain, where they sit with their espresso and cigarettes, and watch everyone going by. I would invade their manly bastions, but I’ve never seen any of them eating any food. So I look for some sign of women, or food, or both.

It was a lovely meander west today. The plan looked like this.

I stopped a lot to take photos. I had plenty of time, no one else to be bothered, and the scenery was stunning.

Back to history class tomorrow.

The launch

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I drove from Tunis to Bizerte yesterday, initially planning a straight shot up the highway. I was quite nervous about driving in general, and in particular out of the city, having seen some of the narrow streets. The streets are not laid out in a grid fashion, but instead go hither and yon, which was fine when I was on foot. However, the car rental place was on the north end of the city, very near an entrance to the highway. Everyone seems to use French here (so far), but the staff at the rental company also spoke at least some English. The contract is in French and Arabic, and I just signed where indicated, good lawyer that I am, ha ha. The car is brand new, and easy to drive. It’s a five speed, whereas my car has six gears.

In about 20 minutes, my nerves had settled, I had managed to escape the urban edges, and I pulled over to change my plans. I ended up meandering along secondary roads and wound up with my first views of the Mediterranean. What a delight to crawl along sometimes smooth, sometimes dirt, roads, and spectate.

On arrival in Bizerte, Google translate helped me and a parking lot attendant communicate, along with expressive hand signals, and I set off with my bags for the hotel. I am still leery of driving in town, so we’ll see if I drive at all today. I’m awaiting word from my hotel host as to whether I can have this room again tonight. If not, I will head up the coast a bit further.

I spent a good amount of yesterday after arrival here wandering the area around my hotel, which in this place is near the port. This city has the same kind of vibe as all seaside towns where visitors congregate.

City views

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From the museum I intended to take the metro, which is a rundown, very local system with limited lines. When I arrived, I asked a woman about tickets and after trying to help me find the vendor, she suggested I take the train instead. The two lines ran next to each other, and the train line is clearly very new, still under construction. I had not read anything about its existence. So I found the platform and joined a group of women waiting in silence. Only as the train arrived did I remember to ask about tickets, and a few women indicated I should just ride, using hand gestures and shrugs. They rightly guessed that I would not be asked for a ticket on disembarking at the main station, as it turned out. From there I wandered markets and side streets, generally working toward my hotel.

I took a walk north my last evening in Tunis, into the neighborhood known as Bab Souika, to get away from the heavily touristed medina and to see what I could see. Also it was an attempt to keep myself awake to a reasonable hour.

What I could not take pictures of were the evening scenes as the work day ended, and neighbors seemed to congregate outdoors – groups of men sitting at tables drinking espressos, smoking and talking as they watched the world go by, children playing soccer or just running and shouting, and pairs or small groups of women talking. I saw an ATM and walked up to it. Two women sitting at a table beside it watched as I navigated how to use it. I was either an object of curiosity or amusement, and I just smiled at them. Women rarely seem to walk alone here, young men often walk arm in arm, and even something like drawing money from an ATM seems to be a group activity for men and women. So I was odd in several ways. While I was also bare headed and they were not, I doubt that was a cause of interest. I’ve only been in a very small area so far, but my observations are that there is a wide variety of women’s dress, from fully veiled with only the eyes showing, even the hands gloved, to bare midriffs, and everything between.

Jet lag and being offline

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The first day was all about getting my feet on the ground and trying to stay awake. The latter attempt was unsuccessful but short. I spent a few hours wandering in the old city near the medina. I’m staying in a dar, which is an older home built with an inner courtyard open to the sky, that lets in light and air without exposure to the city outside its walls.

The medina area was first established around 700 AD but the known human history goes back much further. More on that to come, I’m sure.

More recently (ha!), under the Almohad empire (a Berber Muslim dynasty in the 12th and 13th centuries), Tunis became the capital of  Ifriqiya (modern day Tunisia, western Libya, and eastern Algeria), and under the Hafsid period (a Sunni Muslim dynasty of Berber descent that ruled Ifriqiyq from 1229 to 1574) it developed into a religious, intellectual and economic center. While it does have major east/west and north/south axes, the bulk of the medina and surrounding neighborhood is a maze of streets, some too small for cars, with an occasional sort of square (only not square shaped). There are dead ends, streets where the map says there are none, and buildings that suddenly dead end a street despite the map saying it goes through.

Jet lag and a little work had me up early, and the morning sky was my reward. Later I had breakfast at the dar before heading out.

This morning I visited the Bardo Museum. I know pictures of museum displays are usually boring and don’t begin to show the context. I find it amazing to see pottery, art, mosaics made of tile and more from more than 2000 years ago. More on all this later too.

I’m finding that (so far), internet is not readily available, and when it is, it can be intermittent. Hence this long post. I am heading out of the capital city tomorrow, so my expectations are low for connectivity, high for amazing scenery and new discoveries. I quake at the thought of tackling driving out of the city in my rental car, finding gas, and getting stuck in some narrow street. I opted for extra insurance! I’ve also downloaded Maps me so I have offline access, since that has been an issue just walking around Tunis. I open my phone to check for a location, or to find out what I’m seeing, and nope. Going a little old school this trip, I guess.

Sic infit

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So it begins. First a flight to Istanbul, where I’ll pause overnight and then on to Tunis, Tunisia. I hope you can join me here.

Something I saw made me look up a Latin phrase, which brought me to this next one.

Memento mori

And therefore I must live while I can. It’s a big world, Matilda.

Loose ends

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It’s a wrap- I’m back in the real world, at least as I know it. The jet lag will remind me for a few days. My goal today is to stay up until at least 8 pm.

Except for the time it takes to get there and back, I found Vietnam easy for travel. That’s not to say it’s always simple, but the courtesy and helpfulness of everyone I interacted with, whether they were going to make any money off me or not, was unflagging. Their civility extends to each other as well. I was in awe of their ability to get along on city streets choked with traffic, their small courtesies before beginning a transaction, and how safe I felt. It’s the kind of place where you can pull your phone out in public and wander around with it, you can show your money to a shopkeeper and they will pick out only what is owed, and when a price is quoted, that is the price (with the exception of taxis).

Things that stood out beyond the every day civility I encountered: the food, coffee in more forms than I knew were possible, floating markets, not-floating markets, rice fields, hidden narrow streets in the cities, the ease of getting a Grab anytime, all come to mind. I’m sure I’m forgetting some things already.

I tried to select some of my favorite photos, although some are favorites more because of the memory they evoke than the shot itself. Thank you for reading along with me.

Being a sponge

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By 11:30 am, it was 91 degrees and humid, and still getting warmer.  I am spending my last day here wandering yet again,  for now in Cholon. Cholon began as a settlement of Chinese who migrated to the area during the 18th century, in part to escape retribution by a rival faction. The city itself was originally about 11 km from then-Saigon, but now there is no way to tell when one ends and the other begins if you don’t know. Cholon is Ho Chi Minh’s Chinatown, and reportedly is one of the largest in the world.

Because of the heat and distance,  I took a Grab to the Ten Thousand Buddha Pagoda as a jumping off point. It did not disappoint. The fifth floor has the Buddha for which it is named,  but each floor has its own.  It appears there are monks living here. Their living quarters and what appear to be areas for study can be seen off the main area. No photos there of course.

I walked for hours, stopping every now and then for a coffee, or lunch, or any excuse for the use of a toilet and some AC until I’d recovered just a bit, then off again to soak in all that I can.

Tired feet

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Ho Chi Minh City views – my favorites are still the tiny alleyways and side streets that don’t fit a car. Some have businesses located on them, so it’s ok to wander down and look around. Others are micro-neighborhoods, and I just wonder from the street what secrets they hold. High rises abound, and some hold their own treasures. So many apartment buildings have plants crawling up and down them from each balcony. The parks were in heavy use today, it being Sunday. Despite that, no one, not even children, played or even walked on the grass. Everyone stayed on the paved walkways, even sitting on the hard concrete at times. There must be some unwritten rule about this.

I know better by now than to just start crossing the street on a walk sign. As Ella told us on the Hanoi food tour, don’t make eye contact and whatever you do, don’t hesitate or dash, just maintain your pace. The bikes and cars will weave around you, although sometimes by inches.

The method of making a left turn on bikes in particular is fascinating. The motorbike will drive into the oncoming traffic lane, and they play a fairly polite game of chicken, then the bike cuts the corner all the way left and then generally crosses over to the right lane again. If you are a pedestrian who thinks that you need only watch the traffic coming from the left as you step off the curb, you’re in for a surprise. I’ve also found out that these walk and don’t walk signs change without warning. There’s no flashing period before the light changes, it is just suddenly red and you are in the middle of 8 lanes of traffic all going various directions.

I’m fascinated by what can be carried on a bike.

There’s a fair amount of recycling and composting done, as far as I can tell. There are some dumpsters and trash bins, but not very many. There are also people who collect specific things, like this woman.

However, the routine seems to be that businesses put their trash out by the curb in small bags daily. At some point those bags disappear. I was fascinated to see that one of the informal ‘processing’ stations is right beside my hotel door. There each evening when I come home, one or two people are breaking down boxes, emptying plastic cups and food containers, and organizing all those things right there on the sidewalk. I don’t see what happens to them after that, and perhaps that’s for the best. But I’m certain that the people doing this would not do it continuously if there were not a market for these things.

It felt like I walked miles in the hot and humid day. Final stop of the evening, for a mango tea.