After my tea, I strolled around the streets of Tunis and was surprised to

hear someone call my name. "The other Walid" from the hooka bar ran across

the street to greet me. We chatted briefly and he told me where the souk

was. I went on my way and was very proud to not only be making my own way

around but to have someone recognize and greet me; it made me start feeling

like a local.

I met up with Walid and Wadie in front of the medina at the gate, and we took

a tight series of turns through the narrow market streets, ducking into a

small nook of a restaurant where we were greeted by the restaurant owner, a

friend of Walid's. Almost immediately, plates of food came out to greet us,

which surprised me since we hadn't ordered anything. Walid had ordered on

the phone ahead. It was pretty good, especially the couscous with fish, and

I enjoyed the "Hawai Tropical" (Yes, that's how they spell it) drink. It's

made by Coca-Cola but obvious not offered in the US or Hawai'i, ironically.

We then hung out in a cafe and drank a little tea, then wandered around and

said hello to some shopkeepers who are friends with Walid. We then wandered

into the south part of Tunis through warehouses full of electronics shops.

There were really an astounding number of satellite dishes, stacked on top

of each other like sheets of paper in a ream. As far as I understood it,

there were cards cheaply available to get just about all the channels for

free.

Walid and I grabbed the train to Hammam Lif (literally, "nose bath"), just

south of Tunis, which has a cute little downtown and an adorable beach, the

moon sending beams out as an aura behind a cloud and shimmering softly off

of the quietly lapping Mediterranian waters. We said hello to more friends

of Walid, including a bicycle repairman, a sandwich shop owner and the loud,

friendly proprietor of a clothing store whose accent I couldn't parse at all.

We then hopped back on the train down to Borge Cedria, where Wadie lives.

(Wadie, Walid, Jamil, and myself had been sleeping at Walid's the last few

nights; the three of them put some mattresses together and slept as one and

left me the bed - while this situation was wildly unfair to them, I couldn't

find a way to talk them out of it!) Borge Cedria was a little frightening,

or at least would have been if I wasn't in Tunisia - half constructed houses,

dirt roads, dark and worn down paths, and nobody in sight. But once inside

Wadie's home, it was clear it was a nice place, save the fact that (as a

regular Arab house) there is no toilet paper. It's wash, wipe, and dry here.

(There are special little hoses next to the toilets.)

Satellite TV everywhere, 800 channels, many of which are in multiple languages;

Euronews available in English, French, Italian, Spanish, German, and more. I

haven't seen multilingual TV stations in the US. They're watching Who Wants to

be a Millionaire, or at least the Saudi version. There's a motorized antenna

mount on the roof that changes orientation to point at the right satellite

when you change stations. This is pretty ordinary, apparently, although I feel

like I haven't seen this once in the US. They are very amused that we have to

pay a company money every month to get a measly 200 or so channels. It seems

almost crude, backwards.

Going to take a nap now. I'm exhausted from walking around and doing almost

only French today (as I've only been with Walid, who speaks almost no English

and whose French I have a bit of a hard time understanding; I kind of wish I

did some Arabic). Being out of your language element can be exhausting after

a while; there's a certain mental vigilance in full immersion that can take

it right out of you. Maybe that's part of the reason why I wake up a little

around the computer - the mental burden of thinking and speaking in French is

gone, leaving me with more energy for other things.