“Once in a while it really hits people that they don’t have to experience the world in the way they have been told to.” – Alan Keightley

Sunday, June 28, 2015

Tunis During Ramadan

            The other day, I left Burkina Faso en route to Istanbul. I had a daylong layover in Tunis, Tunisia. I had already spent a day in Tunis when I was on my way to Burkina, so really all I wanted was to get out of the airport, go into the main part of the city, smoke some hookah, drink some coffee, and head back to catch my flight. I learned a couple things that day. It is very difficult to find shisha (hookah) or anything to drink during Ramadan in a Muslim country, some is never enough, and nobody is exempt from terrorism. I’ll get to that last part in a minute.
First, I have been in quite a few Muslim countries in my travels, including Bosnia and Herzegovina, Albania, Turkey, Burkina Faso, Morocco, and Tunisia. I knew many people fast during Ramadan, as is the custom. I knew there were countries in the world where it would be impossible to get food during the day. What I did not expect was for Tunisia to be one of these. Burkina Faso is a Muslim country. Many people pray five times per day, many people abstain from alcohol, and many people fast during Ramadan. However, many people, whom are Muslim, drink regularly inside and outside of Ramadan, eat pork, and don’t much care for a month of starving themselves. I honestly cannot imagine going an entire day in Burkina (40+ Celsius) without drinking water, but that’s a different story.
When I first got to the city center of Tunis, it was much like the last time, though the café’s had their seats all put together and no tables were out. This was my first indication that things may be a bit different. When I got into the market, I noticed all of the closed doors. This was my, “oh dammit” moment because I realized the odds of finding anything to eat or drink were slim. I meandered the streets, going to the places I knew and a few I didn’t. I was fasting, but not by choice. Eventually I gave up. I turned around, and headed to where taxis would be waiting. On the way, I had one of those weird I’ll go left but you go right, ok, let’s switch, oh crap we did it again moments with a Tunisian guy. We both laughed, and he started talking to me in French. When he learned I was American, he switched to English. It was good, though difficult to understand at times. I said I was heading to the airport soon, but wanted to find some shisha (hookah) to smoke, and maybe drink a coffee. He took this to heart and led me, for about 45 minutes, around a slew of closed cafés.
After about six failures, we found a place that was open. The windows were covered with newspapers, and when we walked in, it was like walking into a cloud. There was so much smoke it was difficult to breathe. When everywhere is closed, those who do not fast and want to smoke hoard to the places that will stay open, and they stay there for hours smoking. We were in there for about fifty seconds when we discovered there was nowhere to sit. On the way out, my guide jokingly said to me, “If you stay in there for an hour, you’ll get cancer, guaranteed.” I’m not so sure he’s wrong.
We moved on to the next café, only a few doors down. It was another place with the windows covered, and a cloud of smoke greeting you upon entry. We sat down this time. I ordered a coffee and a hookah, and we chatted. I offered him a drink before remembering he was fasting. I felt bad, but he laughed it off so no biggie. This is when we saw the TV and my friend turned to me and said, “Goodbye Tunisia. This country is dead now.” He explained to me what the TV said and my jaw dropped.
Do you remember where you were on 9/11? Of course you do. Everybody of sound body and mind remembers where they were that day just like our parents remember where they were when JFK was assassinated and our grandparents remember where they were when Pearl Harbor was bombed. It was the defining moment of our childhoods and it effectively changed the world. It started two wars, and inevitably set up the crazy situation occurring worldwide today.
The day I happened to be in Tunisia, they were hit by their second terrorist attack in four months. The first one was an attack on the famous Bardo National Museum, in Tunis on March 18, 2015. Twenty-two people died and fifty others were injured. This attack was located in Sousse, about two hours from Tunis. 39 people were killed and another 36 were injured. Both of these attacks were aimed at tourists, much like myself. That same day, a Friday mind you, a mosque was attacked in Kuwait City, Kuwait, killing 27 people and injuring over 220 people, and a man was beheaded at a factory near Lyon, France.
The effect this attack is having on Tunisia is drastic to say the least. The country relies on tourism. Since the “Arab Spring,” Tunisia’s unemployment soared to almost 20%. It has since dropped and is now around 15%. The youth is the country is frustrated to say the least. Now add in the loss of millions of dollars in tourism, and you can see the grave state that Tunisia finds itself in, and you can understand why Mehmet, my guide and new friend, said that his country had died. For his sake and the sake of the world, I hope Tunisia takes measures to increase security and protect its tourists. Without that revenue, the country could be headed for revolution again, or worse.

In terms of those within Tunis, it was interesting to see the reactions of the people. It was the same as it was that fateful in September. People were glued to the TV, shaking their heads, murmuring under their breaths. People cursed (I assume since my Arabic is shaky to say the least). They blessed each other and wished safety to families and loved ones. I sat there watching with them, and my mind flashed back to Mr. Brown’s world studies class when I jokingly asked him if a plane hit the World Trade Center. The smile vanished when he told me it did. I cannot imagine what that would have been like if I was older, more intelligent, more understanding of the world. And in this instance, it was clearer to me than ever before that really, we’re all the same and want the same thing: safety for our loved ones and ourselves, and to live without being in fear, a goal that seems more difficult now than at any point in my lives and many of my peers lives. Hopefully one day this can happen in Tunisia. Hopefully one day this can happen everywhere.