Night in Tunisia

A Storm in Ettadhamen

Yesterday I left work a little late, close to 18:30, and it was raining outside. The few times that this has happened in the past, it has been a sure sign that I will have to wait a long while for a taxi.

I decided with the bit of time that that would afford me, that I could brave the rain drops and head for the fruit stands to buy some groceries. Maybe, I though, the rain would let up by then.

The fruit vendor that I usually visit was not there today. He is young, about the same age as me, and works with his brother, or maybe cousin. His booth is one of the closest to the traffic circle and to the metro station, so it gets a lot of traffic. I know that the fruit he sells will always be fresh because he sells out most days. But, alas, the boy who replaced him didn't speak enough french and didn't know enough about his wares to be able to point out the Thompson oranges to me, so I thanked him and decided to look elsewhere.

The fruit stands are located between the traffic circle, the metro station (terminus) and the bus station. There is always traffic there and always a lot of people. Moving between stands is taxing when it's busy, as you have a lot to think about. You need to keep one hand on your wallet, one ear tuned in for busses, an arm over your bag and an eye open for traffic of all kinds around you. And through all this you need to find fruit that looks good enough to buy.

I stopped at the nearest vendor with a wide variety of oranges, made my formal hello and asked for Thompsons, 1 kilo. I took him a minute to get to it, as the rain was starting to come down harder and he needed to cover the back part of his stand. I didn't mind waiting.

As I waited I noticed a group of people converging in the street behind the bus station. There must have been 50 people collected together, moving like a flock of birds, all shifting direction this way and that, but not moving very far in any one direction. Then, out of the mass of people, two figures broke away, wrestling with each other. They were young, and it appeared to be a fight.

People here don't fight well. I'm sure there are some martial arts and boxing clubs, but for the most part fighting is strictly forbiden. Participating in a street fight can get you heavily fined and jailed, so it's not something that people are often willing to risk. These two men had a good hold on each other and were throwing each other around and shaking each other. I don't think they ever got their fists free. It seemed more like a wrestling match than a street fight.

I paid for my oranges and moved away, closer to the traffic circle and further from the fight. I had no interest in being around a mob of poor, frustrated Tunisians when the fight broke-up or was disolved by the police. Foreigners can move around in relative safety in high-traffic areas, but I wouldn't want to push my luck.

I waited just North of the circle and waived my hand at every cab that came along. The were all full.

It started to pour.

I didn't have an umbrella and the few buildings with overhang were too far from the road for me to be able to hail a taxi. I figured I might be there a while, but the rain wasn't too cold so I didn't mind. I was hungry however.

I jogged over to a candy vendor who was finishing a batch of candied peanuts and I paid him 200 millimes for a small bag. Then I moved back into the rain, happily eating my candy and getting soaked under the grey-blue twilight clouds. I must have been quite a site in my salmon rain coat snacking on candy. But a taxi stopped soon, and I was on the highway home in no time, with my empty bag of candy and a kilo of oranges. Wet but content.

posted by tiaraletourneau @ 1:07 p.m.