[Author's
Note: I arrived in Tunis on September 10th,
2010 and left two months later. The Arab
Spring began in Tunisia on December 18th,
2010, a day after the self-immolation of Mohamed
Bouazizi. I missed the festivities by about a month or so. Some
would say I dodged a bullet but I cannot help feeling like I missed
the boat. How often do you have the chance to watch history unfold
from the front row? It is interesting for me to go back and read
about my experiences at the time. Yes, I could almost taste
repression in the air but if you told me the powder keg was about to
ignite I would have been incredulous in the extreme. Yet, there it
was boiling just beneath the surface. Keep this in mind when reading
my Tunisia posts. It makes for a fascinating subtext.]
We
arrived in El Kef in the evening, found suitable lodging on the
outskirts of town, and ventured to the center for a nibble. We wanted
to eat at the hotel restaurant but they were not serving dinner. Why
would they? The grumpy gentleman behind the reception desk was kind
enough to recommend an overpriced restaurant in town. Merci
beaucoup.
I may
have ingested mutton again but cannot be certain. Believe it or
not unidentifiable meat does not necessarily taste good. I would be
remiss if I did not point out that, for the most part, the food in
Tunisia is generally decent. It can get a bit repetitive but that may
have as much to do with selection as the language barrier and my
comfort with known menu items I recognize and enjoy, to include
Tunisian salad (tomatoes, cucumbers, and tuna), fish soup, couscous,
Tunisian spaghetti (containing the spicy harinssa sauce), a shit ton
of bread, olives, all things chicken, and breaded pastry known as
brik (stuffed with egg, tuna, or host of other ingredients).
