Tunisia

 'Wow,' is what I said when I pulled the curtains to my room aside, to reveal the scene of Tunis business district below. I had lucked out again. So far although difficult, the trip has been 'lucky.'


Start with my checked luggage making it all the way from Flint to Tunis. The two things that I was worried about, exchanging my U.S. dollars into Tunisian dinars, and getting and using a taxi were easy.. though I still don't like taxis. I learned quickly that traffic lights don't mean anything in Tunisia, and people just 'go,' when they want.


I stayed in a different hotel on Wednesday night, and arrived here Thursday morning. My first goal Thursday was to get my passport stamped with a Libyan visa at the Libyan embassy.


The embassy was in another stroke of luck,  1/2 block away. There were dozen or so Libyans talking with the embassy reception through barred windows and doors. The people were trying to get the free Tunisian medical help, and were arguing over documents. With the help of two Europeans, I learned that the Libyan government worker had come through for me; they received my invitation to work form. They took my passport, to verify  my ID.

 I paid the embassy $40 dinar through the gate, but they said I also need to provide two photos for records, which I didn't have. At that time is was 9:30 a.m., and the embassy closed at 12. I had to get photos taken and return by then.

What ensued was a humorous on-foot scavenger hunt through Tunis, with a scrap of paper the hotel reception desk provided with a business that takes photos. I had to stop people and point to a word in Arabic. At least five people tried to help, and I ended up several blocks from the hotel, and embassy.




I never found the business, but I found a place just in time that also sold older model cameras, and took mug shots.. not literally mug shots. As you can see, I look really, really intense, and laughed about it with the guy at the counter. It really sums up the morning though. I returned to the embassy with about 20 minutes to spare. After edging my way into the crowd to get the embassy worker's attention, I eventually made it inside the embassy to sign more forms in a large marble room. I paid them $100 dinars (about $70 USD.) 


There's no way the man knew what seeing that simple stamp on page 10 of my passport meant. It was the crux of difficulty with getting there.  It easily could have gone the other way, and despite what I thought before, I could not have gotten on the plane to Benghazi without it.

That night, I also found a translator to work with to return to the embassy, but this time as a reporter. More on that.

Shooting is difficult in North Africa- there is no law giving journalists the right to take photos of people in public. Fortunately, there are always people that want to share stories.