Aunties xoxo
Free time today (again, i shuold be studying) and i am trying to use the internet while the host family is away. Alas, this connection is crap and so much time is wasted. Anyways, i have finally found myself typing, spurred on by words of encouragement from Auntie Pam in New Zealand. (thanks for the update and my regards and best wishes to all!)
I have found myself a social butterfly since i arrived in Tunis. In Australia i can go days without seeing (and wanting to see) those troublesome twats i call my friends. however, here in tunis i find myself wanting to go out to a coffee shop and meet and chat and hang out every day. i have several theories:
to begin with i have become closely acquainted with my shishy-wishies (shisha - flavoured tobacco that is smoked out of a big water based pipe). While my peers argued that shisha tobacco was not chemically addictive - only habitually comelling (idiots) - i profusely extolled on them the fact that it was addicitve and contained nicotine. whatever its chemical make up is exactly, i know that when i havent had one i get the urge to have one. and then when i do have one i find that feeling goes away. by then, ofcourse, the thing is in my mouth and i continue along my merry smoky way.
reason number two... i need to communicate and i need to hear others express themselves in a language i can wallow in comfortably. talking with taunt Sabah (my tunissien Mum) at home can be a little frustrating because of the language barrier. on top of that i have to be mindful of manners and eticat around her (someone tell me how to spell that damn word) - which remains in some form despite the 'my home is your home' rhetoric. Cultural distinctions are still materialising and making themselves clear even now. furthermore, her suspicions about me getting her 16 year old son drunk on New Years and the subtle punishments i recieve (so subtle they might just be of my own making) are more than evident (but i didnt even see him with a drink in his hand the whole night, honest!).
Even more than this is Aumou Fauzi, who cant speak good english and insists i speak arabic all the time. unfortunately his idea of a conversation involves a myriad of new vocabulary that i just cant fathom. and on such occasions his mouth is more than likely full of sugary, white bread or fruit. so instead of communcation, Fauzi enjoys taking the piss out of me while i sit there awaiting the exact translation from Alan (the other student the family is hosting) whos consumate knowledge of arabic and ease of communication with the family compounds my feelings of inferiority due to a lack of language ability. all the while my childish emotions scream inside my head that 'life just is not fair and everyone's being a meany to me.' ive probably gone over this before, have i not.
another theory is that the longer im in tunisia the closer things become routine. and we all know about routine. so i find any excuse to go out and break the routine (or atleast add onto my routine 'Hisham and pals time'). Particularly after a 2 week holiday from school that included xmas, a trip to the south, eid, and new years, i have almost succeeded in destroying routine, relaxing responsibility, and severely maiming moderation. so much so im trapped in a viscious cycle of depravity that can only be culled by a strictly set, loud, alarm clock that will wake me up and take me back to school, study and early nights, insha'allah! we will see. and by the way, i am loving the tunisian experiance despite my tales of woe.
i tried to get another picture up, it didnt work.
the trip to the south was amazing. beautiful part of the country but being thrown from place to place in a small bus made everyone grumpy and annoyed by the last day. that picture below was taken at dawn out in the desert where i spent the coldest night ever under the stars. the fire was next to us but palm fronds keep it lit for only so long. two of my four blankets were saturated by moisture come morning. nevertheless, the stars and the quiet, lonely desert keep my memories warm.
that is a little iranian nut of a lady atop the camel. and we love you too, yes we do.
I have found myself a social butterfly since i arrived in Tunis. In Australia i can go days without seeing (and wanting to see) those troublesome twats i call my friends. however, here in tunis i find myself wanting to go out to a coffee shop and meet and chat and hang out every day. i have several theories:
to begin with i have become closely acquainted with my shishy-wishies (shisha - flavoured tobacco that is smoked out of a big water based pipe). While my peers argued that shisha tobacco was not chemically addictive - only habitually comelling (idiots) - i profusely extolled on them the fact that it was addicitve and contained nicotine. whatever its chemical make up is exactly, i know that when i havent had one i get the urge to have one. and then when i do have one i find that feeling goes away. by then, ofcourse, the thing is in my mouth and i continue along my merry smoky way.
reason number two... i need to communicate and i need to hear others express themselves in a language i can wallow in comfortably. talking with taunt Sabah (my tunissien Mum) at home can be a little frustrating because of the language barrier. on top of that i have to be mindful of manners and eticat around her (someone tell me how to spell that damn word) - which remains in some form despite the 'my home is your home' rhetoric. Cultural distinctions are still materialising and making themselves clear even now. furthermore, her suspicions about me getting her 16 year old son drunk on New Years and the subtle punishments i recieve (so subtle they might just be of my own making) are more than evident (but i didnt even see him with a drink in his hand the whole night, honest!).
Even more than this is Aumou Fauzi, who cant speak good english and insists i speak arabic all the time. unfortunately his idea of a conversation involves a myriad of new vocabulary that i just cant fathom. and on such occasions his mouth is more than likely full of sugary, white bread or fruit. so instead of communcation, Fauzi enjoys taking the piss out of me while i sit there awaiting the exact translation from Alan (the other student the family is hosting) whos consumate knowledge of arabic and ease of communication with the family compounds my feelings of inferiority due to a lack of language ability. all the while my childish emotions scream inside my head that 'life just is not fair and everyone's being a meany to me.' ive probably gone over this before, have i not.
another theory is that the longer im in tunisia the closer things become routine. and we all know about routine. so i find any excuse to go out and break the routine (or atleast add onto my routine 'Hisham and pals time'). Particularly after a 2 week holiday from school that included xmas, a trip to the south, eid, and new years, i have almost succeeded in destroying routine, relaxing responsibility, and severely maiming moderation. so much so im trapped in a viscious cycle of depravity that can only be culled by a strictly set, loud, alarm clock that will wake me up and take me back to school, study and early nights, insha'allah! we will see. and by the way, i am loving the tunisian experiance despite my tales of woe.
i tried to get another picture up, it didnt work.
the trip to the south was amazing. beautiful part of the country but being thrown from place to place in a small bus made everyone grumpy and annoyed by the last day. that picture below was taken at dawn out in the desert where i spent the coldest night ever under the stars. the fire was next to us but palm fronds keep it lit for only so long. two of my four blankets were saturated by moisture come morning. nevertheless, the stars and the quiet, lonely desert keep my memories warm.
that is a little iranian nut of a lady atop the camel. and we love you too, yes we do.
2 Comments:
the word is etiquette and i thought you went to university. you idiot
Hey
Nice blog page. It's good you are enjoying the adventure, mum is wondering where your arabic vocabulary is? By the way its spelt etiquette.
keep us updated.
Ahmed and family
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