March 2004

The Road to Tunisia - Day 3

Today was another early day. We were going to travel to a place near San Juan to see some second century Roman ruins and eat lunch at the Laroussi Restaurant in the Berber village of Sidi Jedidi (Cee Dee Gee Dee Dee). 

After a long drive up the Atlas Mountains we made a brief stop at a 2,000-year-old Roman aqueduct (Temple des Eaux-Temple of Water). Water from this mountaintop pipe has been flowing to the distant city of Carthage since the time of Hannibal.   After some quick photos we climbed back into the bus and drove on to the grubby looking little town of Sidi Jedidi. 

The tour guide announced we could all go across the street to the hammam (Turkish bath) because it was included in the price of the tour.  Apparently it is the custom here to visit one of these places weekly to get clean.  I looked at Jay.  He looked at me.  At the same time we said, “No thank you.”

Instead we walked through the medina market.  Again, it was pure torture from aggressive market sellers, but as we drove through town I had seen a shop near the top of the hill that sold music.  I was determined to go there.

We finally made our way through the maze of market stalls and stepped off of the street onto a small patio where cassette tapes were neatly lined up on a stand.  They were pretty dusty from the sandy road.  Jay and Cat waited outside while I went in to bargain. 

There were two nicely dressed men behind the counter waiting on a customer.  This gave me time to get my bearings.  I could see there were lots of cassette tapes, a few 35mm cameras; photos in nice frames (one of the guys behind the counter with what was obviously his wife…lots of photos of her), and hair care products of every possible description.  I guess if you come in to buy some music or get film developed you will want to also buy something to make yourself look good.

These men were absolutely delightful.  They showed me a number of tapes and then played a sample song to make sure I liked what I heard.  Maybe the fact that I was looking for traditional Tunisian music helped their enthusiasm.  When they found out I was American they wanted to “talk” even more so I gave them my card (apparently this is a very important gesture).  Each tape was the hard to find set price of 2D ($1.80).

Back at the restaurant parking lot, while we waited for the Turkish bath visitors to return I asked the tour guide about the restaurant.  When he found out I was American he pulled me over to the bus driver to tell him the news.  He said, “May you be like an olive tree and live forever”.  I was very touched.

Lunch at the Laroussi was an adventure.  We climbed the steps of an ancient square white building and were greeted by three men in red fez hats playing exotic sounding flutes and banging on drums.  Two women soon came from behind a huge wooden door with clay pots balanced on their heads, wiggling their hips and wearing big fat grins.  They were covered from head to toe in bright red material and little gold coins clicking together as they danced.  On each ankle they wore one-inch thick bracelets (to represent their families wealth). 

The traditional food they served wasn’t the best I ate in Tunisia, but the atmosphere made up for what the food lacked.  The typical hors d’oeuvre of crusty bread was fresh and there was lots of it.  The Chorba, a spicy soup of tomatoes, onions and harissa (tiny grains of pasta) hit the spot.  Next we were served “briks”, a triangular-shaped envelope of crispy pastry filled with diced up tuna and herbs.  Normally briks also have a runny egg inside but not today, thank goodness.

The main course was served in traditional ceramic bowls with green, brown, red, yellow, blue and orange designs.  The giant bowls were filled with grilled chicken piled on top of steamed vegetables and couscous (tiny rice made of semolina) For dessert we were served a kab el ghazal, a horn-shaped pastry filled with almonds…very dry but good.

All the time we were eating, the music and the dancing continued.  At the table next to us a family from Algeria were really living it up.  They jumped up to dance with the belly dancers, and then dressed up in colorful pieces of material to help serve the main course.

This was one of the nicest experiences I’ve ever had in my travels around the world.  The people who owned the restaurant served some of the food, and genuinely welcomed everyone.  The owner told me his sister is the cook, and his wife manages the place.  Everyone was laughing, dancing and joining in to the celebration atmosphere.  AND, there wasn’t one bit of alcohol in the whole place…only water, fresh orange juice and traditional tea.

After the long drive back to Hammamet we decided to visit the big shop next to the hotel so that Cat could buy a caftan, Tunisia’s traditional dress for both men and women.  She also wanted a scarf for her head that had little gold coins draped around it...like the one the belly-dancing women wore at the restaurant. 

The shop clerk, a tanned handsome young man in a white lab coat, seemed very happy to help us.  Cat was shy about haggling for a lower price so we walked around some more to look at the soug, the jewelry section.  She wanted to look at the Hand of Fatima (a little silver or gold hand with a fancy henna design on it), a symbol for Islam’s most famous woman who was the daughter of the Prophet Mohammed.

We also studied the leather slippers, toy camels, and finally ended up in the room with all of the carpets.  Since we were interested in perhaps buying a small one to hang on the wall as our souvenir from Tunisia, we allowed ourselves to be drawn in.  It soon became clear we would not leave without hearing all about the carpets.  Some were very small silk ones for 3,000D ($2,300) and others started at 300D ($240).  Each carpet is priced based on how many knots there are per square meter.  The firmer the pile and the more defined the pattern is, the longer it took to make and the longer it will last (and the more it will cost).  The ones I liked tended to be lower priced Berber (the first people of Tunisia) designs. 

The clerk offered us some traditional Tunisian hot sugary mint tea in little glasses served to us on a short round table.  We sat down on the low benches along the wall as he rolled out different styles of smaller carpets.  Each one was more beautiful that the last.  Some were deep shades of red, and others were green, blue or brown.  Each had a unique design.   And each time I asked the price. 

He smiled and tried to not answer me.  I realized later that he knew that whatever he told me at this point was not what I would pay for the carpet.  I did not want to play this game so I kept insisting to know the price.  It seemed to me that I needed to know if we were in the ballpark of what I was willing to spend before we started negotiating the final deal.  A few times the guy looked at Jay for sympathy, but Jay told him he was just going to sit back and drink his tea.

Pretty soon another man appeared.  It was obvious he was coming to close the deal.  He greeted us in English but then said something to the clerk in French.  The clerk quickly said, “She speaks French”.  So they switched to Arabic.  Unfortunately for them there is no hiding body language so I prepared myself to be haggled with.

The small-embroidered rug I settled on was 110D ($88).  I wanted them to throw in Cat’s caftan and scarf for the price.  They said no.  We talked some more, “But Madam, this is a fine carpet.  Two women would have worked weeks to make this beautiful traditional Berber design”.  I got up to leave.  Jay and Cat followed.  Jay knew my technique since we had bought a car this same way in America a few years ago.  That time I left the dealership three times over the course of a week before we finally settled on the price of the car. 

Downstairs I started to pay for Cat’s things when the carpet salesman came running in with a large calculator to show me his bottom price of 100D ($80).  Plus he would throw in the other things I wanted.  I nodded “yes” and the deal was done.

Back at the hotel we were almost too worn out to eat dinner.  I never realized shopping could be so exhausting.  After a typical hotel buffet meal that included delicious fresh fish, I fell asleep worrying about how the next day’s camel ride was going to work.  After this I am going to need a vacation from my vacation.