The haik, the burgundy fez and the World Cup

In this post:
Sfax
The haik, the burgundy fez
World Cup

Tunisia does not yet have an abundance of high-speed internet communications; while there are internet ‘cafes’ in all major towns and cities, broadband is in its infancy, and I did not come across any internet cafes that had it. In Tunis, one can find wireless connection in many hotels although I did not come across it in hotels or other public internet cafes elsewhere, but again it is very slow. In addition, despite several attempts in different places I was never allowed to connect my own computer in a cyber café. I never could find out why, and as I had, throughout Algeria, gone from one cyber café to the next, unplugged the phone link on one of their computers and plugged it into my laptop, I was puzzled as to why it was not possible in Tunisia. One helpful person in Sfax suggested I buy a Tunisnet scratch card; 5 dinars buys you 5 hours of time, you link into the system from the telephone connection in your hotel room and off you go. Sadly, off we did not go despite assistance from all concerned, and predictably perhaps the whole thing failed entirely. Internet access will now therefore become part of my reportage – what is the state of the internet and ease of access to it in the Dar al-Islam in the 21st century?

So for the record, there are internet cafes all over Algeria, and with the exception of one internet café in Tlemcen in the western part of the country which was on dial-up, connection is quite fast and costs 50 Algerian dinars an hour (about 75 cents). In Tunisia internet access is generally 2 Tunisian dinars an hour which is about $1.55. In both countries it is quite simple to buy a sim card for your mobile phone – 20 Tunisian dinars (about $14) buys you the sim card and time, and in Algeria 1000 Algerian dinars (also about $14) buys you the same. Top up scratch cards are sold everywhere in kiosks.

Local arts and traditions in Gabes

“We next came to the town of Gabes and put up inside it. We stopped there for ten days on account of incessant rains.”

And this is all that Ibn B mentions of Gabes. It is strange that he does not mention either the 11th century Mosque of Sidi Idris or more importantly the shrine of Sidi Boulbaba which dates back to the 7th century and the earliest days of Islam. It has long been considered one of the important shrines in the area and on the day I visited a Koranic recital competition was underway for young boys. Dressed in traditional cream-colored gowns and little red fezzes, they arrived with proud mothers in tow to recite the Koran (or portions thereof) not only by memory but in perfect Classical Arabic. Koranic schools teach this pronunciation with exactitude as Classical Arabic is not the language of everyday speech, and unlike colloquial Arabic where every country has its own dialect and idiom to the point where it can be incomprehensible to an Arabic speaker from a different country, there is only one correct way to pronounce Classical Arabic whether you live in Morocco or Kuwait.

Islam has guidelines for every aspect of life; in some mosques today, and certainly everywhere in the past, men will discuss matters of importance, be it family or business, with the Imam or qadi who can give guidance based on their study of the Koran and Islamic law. I wonder if the shrine served a similar purpose for women in that not having the same access to the Imam or qadi, when they had a pressing matter usually of a family concern, they would go and pray for intercession from the saint...

Next to the shrine is the Museum of Popular Arts and Traditions, which used to be a madrasa or Koranic school. It is a lovely building housing artifacts and exhibits on local agriculture, food, textiles and weddings. My guide in Gabes was the eminent Ezzeddine Ounis, a professor of Engineering by trade but also a local historian and passionate promoter of local arts and traditions who was involved in putting together the museum’s display. He took me to a fair which highlighted local arts and crafts which were of very high quality. It is quite difficult as a tourist to Tunisia to find high quality items for sale in the local markets but at this fair I came across a selection of artists and artisans creating basketry, embroidery, textiles, glass and silk painting. Two in particular caught my eye.

Madame Jeannat Guebibia’a embroiders intricate traditional costumes and cloaks for men and women. I had seen the cloaks on the men when I had paid an earlier visit to Tatouine in Tunisia and had wanted to find one - they are worn, especially in the south of the country, during the winter months. She can be found in Gabes at Rue Sidi Ben Arrouz in the Souk Ancien des Orfevres or at Tel # +216 20745 869.
Madame Jeannat is a skillful embroiderer. This typical cloak is for women, the cloak for men is similar but plainer. She has promised to make me a local couscous when I go back and visit for my own cloak.

The second artisan is Latifa Gasmi, Rue Habib Bourguiba, Artisanat Siwar, Tatouine Tel# +216 97 343 500. She weaves the most magical Berber rugs and blankets and again in a twist of fate has her studio in the tiny village of Douiret where I had been less then two months before but had not known where to find her.

The best thing about finding those artisans was the knowledge that traditional Tunisian arts and crafts are still being made. They are not always easy to find for the tourist it is true, but with a little effort…

Pearl of the Sahel

Did I say music was the great unifier? That was not my thinking at 0645 this morning. Every hotel guest was on his or her balcony bleary-eyed in disbelief - all was upside down, in the history of the world nobody has heard music that loud at that hour. It turned out there was a free concert that night by Clotaire K, a big music star in the Arab world, and for reasons unknown, the roadies were testing the sound equipment at a million decibels at 0645 in the morning……..

I had arrived in Sousse, ‘Pearl of the Sahel’, by train from Tunis – a 2-hour ride and a relaxing way to see some of the countryside. Before Ibn B left Tunis the Haj caravan was organized and he was nominated by the Masmouda Berbers from his home country to be the qadi or jurist of their company. (The Masmoudas gave the world the Almohads, a puritan dynasty originating in Morocco’s High Atlas whose rule spread throughout Southern Spain and North Africa in the 12th century, defeating the Almoravids – mentioned below.)

He writes;

“We left Tunis in the last days of the month of Dhu’l-Qada (early November 1325), following the coast road and came to the township of Susa, which is small but pretty and built on the seashore, forty miles distant from Tunis.”

Once again, another city given fairly short shrift by our traveler – and Sousse is in fact about 85 miles (135 kilometers) from Tunis. This lack of information is the norm until he arrives in Alexandria and probably had much to do with conditions in these parts at the time. Although there was nominal rule from Tunis extending from Bejaia to Tripolitania, governors of some cities were often more or less autonomous within the sultanates. It was only within cities that the rule of law was applied, and outside the city walls the situation could be anarchical as is attested to by Ibn Battuta who mentions several times the dangers of attack from nomadic, marauding tribes. Nowhere was this more evident than in Tripolitania and Cyrenaica as we shall see.

Sousse is a summer resort for Europeans in search of the sun. It has come a long way from its beginnings as a Phoenician port in the 9th century BC, one of the oldest in the Mediterranean. It continued to prosper under the Romans with some ups and downs under different Emperors, and was a major center of Christianity by the early 4th century, evidenced by the catacombs as well as Christianized Roman tombstones. In the 9th century AD it became the port city of Kairouan under the Aghlabid dynasty.

Situated next to the ribat, the corner towers and general fortified aspect of the 9th century Mosque indicates that it was probably originally part of Sousse's fortified area or kasbah.

At least three main buildings within the walled medina – another of Tunisia’s eight UNESCO World Heritage Sites - would have been standing when Ibn B passed by; the ribat, the Grand Mosque and the Kasbah. The 11th century Kasbah has been turned into a museum housing an outstanding collection of Roman mosaics. (I came across a mosaicist at work in the museum who can make a copy of any mosaic or design a new one upon request.) The ribat was built in the 9th century; the usual English translation of ribat is ‘fortified monastery’. Although Islam has no monastic tradition and the verb ‘rabata’ in Arabic means “to be garrisoned”, the architecture of a ribat is austere, (there is another a short distance down the coast in Monastir) and while they were originally built as a series of defensive forts against external threat from the sea, later it seems they did become a retreat of pious men who lived a life of prayer and good works and who depended on the charity of benefactors. The root word ‘rabata’ also gives us the word “almorabitoun” meaning ‘people of the ribat’ which was anglicized to become ‘Almoravid’ – the dynasty from the Western Sahara that swept to power across the Maghreb and Southern Spain, and founded their capital at Marrakech in the 11th century. (The word marabout or ‘holy man’ is also from this root word and while Islam has no tradition of saints and holy men either, there are thousands of them across North Africa.)

The more traditional face of Sousse, this austere ribat was one of a series of such fortified buildings all along the coast - see Monastir's ribat only 15 miles away. Much renovated, the Mediterranean would once have lapped its 9th century walls, now it is several blocks away.

The ribat and the next-door Grand Mosque have both been heavily restored - Sousse like other coastal Tunisian towns was badly bombed in WWII. The climb to the top of the minaret is rewarded by views over the entire medina from the Kasbah at one end to the sea at the other. Nowadays the medina mainly caters to tourists with stalls of associated knick-knacks, but a wander through its narrow streets reveals glimpses of the past. Walking from the ribat to the Kasbah, I came across a small Hanifite Mosque, instantly recognizable by its octagonal minaret. There are four schools of canonical law in Sunni Islam; Maliki, Hanafi, Shafi and Hanbali. Tunisia like the rest of the Maghreb and Libya follows the Maliki rite, their minarets are square and solid. The Ottomans followed the Hanafi rite and when they took control of North Africa they built their own Mosques, introducing the octagonal minaret. (This incidentally is historic, new minarets are built without such limitations and are propelled purely by the design of the architect/builder.) Just by the perfumers’ souk, is the 11th century Khalouat al-Koubba, ‘the domed retreat’, now an ethnographic museum featuring traditional Tunisian wedding customs. The external chevron-ribbed dome is extraordinary and unique in North Africa.

Before leaving Sousse I visited an early 20th century courtyard house, Dar Essid, situated just inside the rampart walls of the medina and now a museum, Not really a part of my mandate, I decided to take a quick detour anyway. The ground floor had three main rooms grouped round a central tiled courtyard; one was the principal wife’s bedroom, the others were second and third wives’ quarters. The first wife’s quarters consisted of a sitting room, a marble bathroom, a small bedroom for children under the age of ten (the bed was long and children slept head to toe), a narrow bed for the wife, and the marriage bed - all were canopied and draped with cashmere curtains. Custom held that after sex the wife went back to her own bed, the couple did not ‘sleep together’. Further on this theme was an interesting little remnant from Roman times placed in a niche next to the marriage bed; a Roman terracotta oil lamp decorated with an erotic image. Legend has it that the lamp had to remain lit during the entire lovemaking session but the man could not take his pleasure until the lamp had gone out. We are assured by the museum literature that the lamp was used as late as 1938….

The house, which until recently was lived in by the owners, has a tall tower the purpose of which was to determine when Ramadan began, i.e. when the new moon of the ninth month of the Hegira (Islamic lunar) calendar was first sighted. Everything inside the house belongs to the owners including some ancient Arabic manuscripts, marriage contracts and deeds thus giving an intriguing look at medina life for the upper middle classes in the not too distant past.

The Mosque of the Olive

And so to Tunis. Ibn Battuta had no border issues to contend with but there were roving bands of marauding tribes and

“we…traveled light with the utmost speed, pushing on day and night without stopping”.

The only concern I had to contend with was traffic – and the hotel receptionist in Annaba having offered to drive me to the border for a fee, price accepted we set off. We established after much discussion that I would cross the border at Oum Togoul on the Algerian side and Maloula on the Tunisian side, there being several borders between the two countries in the vicinity. From Algerian Immigration and Customs, the 10 km drive though No Man’s Land (in fact it is Tunisian territory) is through beautiful cork-oak studded hills to the Tunisian Immigration authorities at Maloula. (Wild boar hunted in those hills is found on menus in Tunisia.)

This is probably the route Ibn B would have taken, bypassing Tabarka, a Mediterranean town formerly a center of coral and a Genoese trading port – one of their castles still sits sentry on a hill on an isthmus protecting the harbor.

“So at last we reached the town of Tunis and the townsfolk came out to welcome the shaikh Abu Abdullah az-Zubaidi…….On all sides they came forward with greetings and questions to one another, but not a soul said a word of greeting to me since there was none of them that I knew. I felt so sad at heart on account of my loneliness that I could not restrain the tears that started to my eyes and wept bitterly. But one of the pilgrims, realizing the cause of my distress came up to me with a greeting and friendly welcome and continued to comfort me with friendly talk until I entered the city where I lodged at the college of the Booksellers.”

This was the one and only time that Ibn B acknowledged homesickness and the loneliness of the road. No such tears awaited me thanks entirely to Zuhair M’Barek and his team at Batouta Voyages, batouta.voyages@planet.tn who looked after me so splendidly in Tunisia from border to border. Named for the ‘Prince of Travelers’ himself, they organized my hotels and transport, in addition to setting up a meeting with Jamila Binous, a writer, historian and academic specializing in the medina.

Tunis Medina
Tunis Medina; A typical street in Rue du Pacha in El Hafsia, a more residential part of the medina where at one time there was a large Jewish community. The medinas always had a principal mosque or 'masjid jami' for the 5 daily prayers as well as the communal Friday prayers. However each quarter of the medina also had a local mosque for the residents for the 5 daily prayers. The mosque at the end of the street is one such mosque.

The medina in Tunis is classed a UNESCO World heritage site and is a marvelously intact example of urban planning in North Africa from the 10th-18th century. The main reason I wanted to visit was to find out where Ibn B’s college of the Booksellers was as there is no madrasa of that name now. Jamila thought there were two possibilities; a madrasa located in a tiny impasse off the souk des attarines, or perfume souk, or the Madrasa Shamaiyah built in 1273 and one of the oldest in the Maghreb. It now houses a school of artisanal trades where pupils take 3-year courses to learn leatherwork, glasswork, embroidery etc.

This is all that Ibn B mentions of the medina with the exception of the Zaitoun Mosque itself; begun in the 7th century, and rebuilt by the Aghlabids in the 9th century, the courtyard (built on a slope to collect rainwater for ritual ablutions) was built in the 17th century, while the current minaret dates back only to the 19th century, although the lozenge design is Almohad, 12th century. Only the courtyard can be visited and even for Muslims, prior permission must be obtained before you can enter the mosque which is closed outside the hours of prayer. Both inside and outside the prayer hall, the builders made liberal use of Roman columns and capitals probably taken from Carthage. Tradition had it that mosques were to be surrounded only by “noble trades” and thus booksellers, perfumers, wool and silk merchants, jewelers and candle makers had their shops against the mosque walls while other guilds were organized peripherally so that at the furthest extent were the least desirable, such as leather dyers and tanners. This is still visible in the names of the streets which reflect their former trades or guilds; the street of the dyers, the spice souk, the fezmaker street etc.

It is impossible to discover the medina in one visit and there are at least 4 different routes one can take based on one’s interests. We started at the Place du Gouvernement; the Prime Minister’s office was formerly the guest palace of the 18th century Husseinid Beys, walked past 18th century Aziza Othman Hospital (still functioning), through the fezmakers souk, where there is an atmospheric little café, and on to the Three Madrasas, near the Zaitouna Mosque. From there a quick visit to the house where Tunis’ most famous son, Ibn Khaldun, was born in the 14th century (philosopher and social scientist) and then to the tomb of the Beys – Tourbet al-Bey, and some of the medina’s most beautiful 17th century houses; Dar Ben Abdullah now a museum of Traditional Arts, and Dar Othman, the home of a former pirate turned politician - some things never change….

Jamila has authored a book about those stunning houses and a visit to this enduring part of Tunis with her makes it come alive. Several of the courtyard houses have been turned into restaurants; I can recommend Dar el-Jeld and Dar Essaraya, and do not miss staying at the exquisitely, charming 12-room Dar el-Medina (darelmedina@hexabyte.tn), a typical courtyard house.
darelmedina@hexabyte.tn
">(darelmedina@hexabyte.tn), a typical courtyard house.

The Empire Crumbles

In this post:
Tipaza
Djemila
Timgad

We cannot leave Algeria without mentioning their splendid Roman ruins. Ibn B. would have come across some lesser sites since they are strewn over the entire northern part of the country, but I visited only the three principal sites of Tipaza, Djemila and Timgad. Anyway old Ibn, as has been mentioned, was not interested and probably knew nothing about them - his travels were purely Islamic in nature. Tipaza lying west of Algiers and overlooking the Mediterranean, is overgrown and little of it has been excavated but a tour of the site reveals the remains of two basilicas, the Capitoline, necropolis, theater, amphitheater, Nymphaeum, and baths. It was a favorite spot of the celebrated writer Albert Camus and a stele dedicated to him is engraved with his words;” je comprends ici ce q’on appelle gloire, le droit d’aimer sans mesure”, which might be roughly translated as "I understand here that what we call glory is the right to love without limit.’

TIPAZA
Remarkably intact aqueduct which fed the Roman cities of Cherchell and Tipaza. I have no more information - tourism is in its infancy in Algeria and there is a dearth of written material about the sites.

I did not have a good guide to explain Tipaza, but this was not the case in the next-door town of Cherchell which is fortunate to have the exceptionally enthusiastic and knowledgeable Mokhtiar Isa as head of the Museum - a must-see. It houses exceptional mosaics in the emblemata technique, the term for mosaics made up of tiny pieces of tessarae so fine they look like tapestries, as well as statuary taken from the sites of Cherchell. In Cherchell itself the ruins of a theater, amphitheater, forum and baths are all scattered discretely over the town which now has a population of about 50,000. A story circulates that in 1942 when Eisenhower disembarked near Cherchell he wrote a memo home saying the town should be razed and excavations carried out, (presumably he was planning on building other homes for the approx 5000 inhabitants who were to be displaced.) The French, still in control of Algeria at that time, not surprisingly refused. You can imagine the colonial occupier trying to explain to a regular homeowner that his house was about to be destroyed because it was sitting atop some 2000 year old stones. Politically it was a non-starter.

DJEMILA
The north-south axis of all Roman cities - Djemila was almost entirely collapsed by earthquake and human destruction and in the absence of great imagination and written material, I have photographed the few buildings that remain standing.

Djemila, meaning 'lovely' in Arabic, is aptly named. Located in a valley surrounded by snow-capped hills in winter, and wheatfields burnished gold by the sun in summer, the former Cuicul was one of a series of Roman towns linked across Algeria and Tunisia. The city was destoyed by several factors including earthquakes and there are now few buildings standing; the temple of Septimius Severus being one of them. Founded in the 2nd century by the Emperor Nerva, the site is divided into the original Roman city and the Byzantine city. The marvel at Djemila however is the museum which contains mosaics lifted from the floors of the Houses of Bacchus, Europe, Castor and the Donkey – I never quite understood this last one. (I have never come across a Roman ruin with a House of the Donkey and it all sounds a bit tricky, and although the guide was fairly knowledgeable about some things, I never quite got the whole picture.) Nonetheless the mosaics which cover the entire walls of the museum in all three rooms are stellar examples of the art; ‘Venus at her toilette’, ‘The Abduction of Europe by Jupiter disguised as a bull’ and a mosaic of a game found in the House of the Donkey - I didn’t understand the game either……..

TIMGAD
Timgad was built during the time of Trajan in the 1st century and the arch in the distance at the Western end of the Decumanus Maximus was built to commemorate his victory over the Parthians. At the near end on the right was the 'House of Ill Repute' . Most of the columns have been replaced - Timgad also having been felled by earthquake.

Timgad lies further to the south near the present day town of Batna. If you speak French do not go near the site without engaging the services of the guide Messaoud Hadjoudj who having worked there for the past 30 years has an encyclopedic knowledge of the ruins and can explain it in layman’s terms. He can be reached on +213-67 02 82 84. Ruins have either to be explored by oneself peacefully, because despite the lack of information it is possible to absorb the history of the place, or one has to have a passionate guide who is not only knowledgeable on the facts but can make it come alive. Anything in between is never quite satisfactory. It was only at Timgad that I really learned anything. Part of the reason is the site itself which is very clearly laid out in a grid pattern - founded in the 1st century by Emperor Trajan, Timgad, then known as Thamugadi, was hidden under accumulated mounds of sand and not ‘discovered’ until the late 19th century by a Scotsman, James Bruce. The site is now another of Algeria’s UNESCO World Heritage sites. The military garrison was housed in much of this grid, which also contains the Forum, a theater, library, market and the House of the Hermaphrodite. While there are few buildings still standing here either, at the western end of the decumanus maximus is the restored Arch of Trajan built to commemorate his victory over the Parthians. The baths to the south are in an exceptionally well-preserved state and the workings of the hypocaust heating system are clearly evident. The Romans may have been master builders but they were bad for the environment and lopped down trees at an alarming rate to feed the ovens to heat their beloved baths. The plateau at Timgad now denuded, was once covered with juniper and oak and this systematic practice was carried out wherever they built their cities. Another unique aspect of Timgad is that over 9000 stone sarcophagi have been found in the necropolis, many of which are in the museum (currently closed) and outside inn the gardens. There are possibly thousands more in the areas which have yet to be excavated, the town had a population of about 20,000.

In addition to the major Roman sites, three of Algeria’s museums have excellent collections of Phoenician and Roman remains; the National Museum of Antiquities in Algiers, Sirta Museum in Constantine and the Museum of Setif near Djemila.

Pashas and Saints

Constantine to Annaba, Algeria

Constantine is a conservative city – almost all the women were wearing headscarves of one sort or another in contrast to other cities, and as I strolled the town one Friday evening I saw only two other women. It is during such moments that one is reminded of just how relentlessly male the public face of much of the Middle East is, in case you had forgotten. My night ended with the first call to prayer of the day at 0250 – the mosque was so close to my windows which had been flung open to catch the slightest breath of wind, that I could hear the microphone being switched on and off.

Bridge over the stunning Gorges du Rhumel

The city owes its name to the Emperor Constantine who founded it in 313AD. but its history goes back more than 2500 years. A Numidian capital under Massinissa in the 2^nd century BC, it became Sirta under the Romans and thereafter subject to the same host of invaders as the rest of the country; Vandals, Byzantines, Arabs, Spanish, Turks, French. Little survives of its illustrious past today, but the ongoing renovation of the Palais Ahmed Bey will change this.

So what happened to Constantine?

In this post:
Bejaia
Constantine

Ibn Battuta on leaving Algiers said

we went on together through the Mitija and the Mountain of Oaks and so reached the town of Bejaia.

The Mitija still exists – it is an extremely fertile area encompassing the region immediately south-west and south-east of Algiers. Along the roadside lichen-encrusted stone gateways and driveways lined with palms or poplars, lead to grand, old (abandoned) French farmhouses set among vineyards and orchards.

Turning south to the Kabylie, we too crossed Ibn B’s ‘Mountain of Oaks’. Reminiscent of the interior of Corsica, the Kabylie is full of little red-roofed villages dotted over steep densely-green hillsides of cork oak, cedar and olive trees. En route to the coastal city of Bejaia we made a deviation to visit the village of Ait-Yenni which is known for its silver jewelry worked either with coral, which came from al-Kala near the Tunisian border, or enameled blue, green and yellow. Jewelry traditionally formed part of a bride’s dowry and you can still find old pieces in the form of pendants, necklaces, earrings, belts, rings and bracelets. One such shop is Marouf Chabane who, as tradition dictates, learned the trade from his father.

BEJAIA
A typical seafront apartment building with the now ubiquitous satellite dish - with those white metal mushrooms winging CNN and Al-Jazeerah to everyone, it is curious to think that they can get both sides of the story, Americans usually only get one

Leaving Ait Yenni we drove on switchback mountain roads through the Petite Kabylie to Bejaia. Once again Ibn Battuta says nothing about the town except to relate a story concerning the veniality of the governor and to say that he fell ill but determined to press on. Known as Vaga by the Phoenicians and Saldae by the Romans, Bejaia was under Hafsid control from Tunis when Ibn B arrived. There is little left of its illustrious past except for the city the French built which is like a tiny version of Algiers. A balustrade forming one side of a large tree-shaded square looks out to sea and over a corniche flanked by white and blue painted buildings. Like Algiers, Bejaia is ringed by hills, and at the northern end of town lies Cap Carbon which offers fabulous views over the Mediterranean and a delightful sheltered cove watched over by a lighthouse. A path leads all the way down to the sea. This is the pristine part of the city – on the other side lies the port full of tankers and container ships since Bejaia is now the terminus of an oil pipeline, and a refinery.

En route to the recently built Hotel Zephyr which is in the new part of town, we came across a giant screen which had been erected in a square where hundreds, perhaps thousands, of locals were watching the World Cup – if music is a great unifier, so too is football which is avidly followed and played here.

CONSTANTINE

The next day we set out for the next city on Ibn B’s itinerary, the city of Constantine. Constantine should be a lovely city – it has a unique location astride the Gorges de Rhumel, has a history dating back more then 2500 years and still has some lovely old Ottoman and French architecture. However the gorge is full of trash, the square, of which one end looks out over a vast panorama north-west, stinks due to men who pee against the balustrade, and the Monument to the Fallen with its winged Victory figure (the original is in the local museum) was disfigured in the1960s and has not only not been repaired but is now surrounded by discarded black plastic bags of trash. This mess was so obvious because Algeria is a remarkably clean country – there is little or no litter along the roads and highways and most large cities are relatively litter-free. In a country which has just come out of a war, I did not expect to see signs regularly placed along roadsides exhorting the citizenry to keep the countryside clean by placing trash in receptacles provided. So what has gone wrong with Constantine?

Algiers

In this post: The Casbah :: UNESCO World Heritage site, Getting robbed, then getting saved in the Casbah! Ibn Battuta wrote next to nothing about Algiers:

On reaching the town of al-Jazair (Algiers) we camped outside it for some days, until the shaikh Abu Abdullah and the son of the qadi arrived, when we went together through the Mitija to the mountain of the Oaks…..

The End. His dismissal of this beautiful city of approximately 5 million people, would be surprising were it not for the fact that in the 14th century, there was no ‘Algeria’; there were sultanates and regional power centers in what is today Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia (the Maghreb), and Algiers itself was rather unimportant. It came into its own when it came under the control of the Ottoman Empire in the 16th century, and while Algiers still has several mosques and large courtyard houses typical of that period as well as a casbah like no other, it is the city built by the French that makes it the impressive capital city that exists today. Algiers sits on a magnificent Mediterranean bay ringed by hills and in the 132 years of French rule from 1830-1962, they built a showcase city of broad boulevards flanked by imposing, Beaux-Arts arcaded buildings, and brilliant white apartment buildings with blue-shutters and iron-railed balconies. THE CASBAH :: UNESCO World Heritage site. But back to the Casbah. It would not have been built when Ibn Battuta visited although if he did go inside the city gates he would have found a couple of mosques including the 12th century Sidi Ramdan, currently under renovation, and the 11th century Great Mosque where he would have prayed. Casbah means ‘fortified place’, and when the Ottomans built it, they used the natural defensive capability of the hills to create a labyrinthine world of houses one seemingly on top of the other. Narrow alleys and steps separated the levels. It is this aspect that makes it so unusual – the Casbahs of Tunisia and Morocco are on flat ground. At the top of the Casbah is the citadel or palace of the dey, also under renovation. The audience room here became the center of a political storm called the “coup d’eventail” in 1827 when the dey slapped the French Consul with his fan during an official visit. It was a costly mistake as it set the stage for the French invasion of the country three years later. This picture shows how the Casbah needs help. This is an old courtyard house which has completely collapsed. It is one of many.

The Casbah was classified a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1992, but it needs funds to renovate its 50 hectares. From the 1950s on, many houses were abandoned due to their owners being either unwilling or financially unable to renovate them, or in some cases because they were already in too advanced a state of delapidation. But during the1990s when a bloody civil war tore the country apart, many villagers fleeing the countryside took over the abandoned houses where they still remain as squatters. Funds are needed to re-house such families and to assist the owners of the houses to repair and restore the existing structures. An organization called Fondation Casbah has been set up and is working with local specialists such as Mr. Omar Hachi to formulate a working plan to “save the casbah”. (Mr. Hachi mentioned that Algiers experienced an earthquake in 1325 – since this is the year Ibn B. visited, it may explain why he does not mention coming into the city.) If you would like to know more about the work of the Foundation, the casbah, or how you can help in its restoration, contact Abdelhakim Mezianisecretary general of the Foundation who can be reached at zianide2@gmail.com or +213 71 30 19 19. I visited the casbah twice – once by myself, and the other with Noureddine Saudi, whose family had a house in the ‘Basse Casbah’ – the lower part which was razed by the French to build the modern city of Algiers. He went to school here and his grandfather was buried in the little cemetery next to the Mausoleum of Sidi Abderrahman. The mausoleum has become something of a destination for local women who come to ask for ‘favors’ and who promise to do something, or give something up, in return for their wish being granted. It is a tiny place, a little haven of calm with blue and white tiles of calligraphy, Venetian glass chandeliers and bronze and copper Mosque lamps. Outside in the walled cemetery however that calm had been disturbed; many of the tombstones were in pieces, smashed by “integristes”, or Islamic fundamentalists, during the civil war. One of those smashed was that of Noureddine’s grandfather. GETTING ROBBED, THEN GETTING SAVED IN THE CASBAH! On my earlier visit to the Casbah I walked for a couple of hours through tiny alleys where the buildings on either side almost touched in the middle (the result more of earthquake than design). I was looking at doorways when two youths of about 15 or 16 years old brushed past me on some steps then continued down through a covered alley. I was about to continue down the steps when I saw the boys stop and look back in my direction and I hesitated. I only kept going because other people were around. It was of course stupid, and to add insult to injury, I fell for the oldest trick in the book - “what time is it?” As the first boy looked at my watch the other boy who had been around the corner began to rifle through my backpack, which I felt immediately. I swung round and saw him take something black before he fled – I started to run after him, and promptly fell flat on my face in the dirt, not a shred of dignity involved – spread-eagled, face down in the Casbah. I was fouled - tripped from behind. I relate the story because of what happened next. I picked myself up and continued to run after the boy, shrieking in French - “stop him, stop him, he robbed me” – (it sounds better in French). Common sense returning however, I realized I should forget about catching him and had better see what was missing. As people gathered round to commiserate, a young man came towards me holding out what had been taken – my black headscarf to visit mosques, and a flashlight. I felt grateful, stupid and embarrassed in equal measure; grateful that someone had bothered to run after a petty thief – and for a stranger, stupid because it is foolish to walk in disadvantaged areas alone since being a foreigner you are automatically considered to be wealthy (if only they knew…), and embarrassed because I am sure most of them thought I must be completely insane. The only reason I can come up with for my madness since I would not have walked alone in such an area in my own country, is simply that it never occurs to me in the Arab world that I will be robbed, and in over 30 years of traveling, I haven’t been. I also cannot imagine anywhere else where someone would run after a thief and give you your things back ……..

Politicians divide, Musicians unite

Politicians divide, Musicians unite I had dinner with and stayed at the house one evening of Karima Sami, who is one half of a local tour operator called L’ile de L’Occident, to whom I was most fortuitously introduced. Over dinner of typical Algerian dishes; chorba frik, a soup with meat or chicken infused with herbs, and cracked wheat, salad with tomatoes, olives, cucumber (Algerian food is typically Mediterranean with Berber influence), and a harissa-infused chicken stew (harissa is a hot pepper sauce) we talked about the war, Algeria today, the opportunities for the future… and listened to music. One of the guests was the aforementioned Noureddine who it turns out is a singer and enthusiastic promoter of Arabo-Andalusian music. Algiers has a strong Andalusian link and until the early 60s had a large Jewish community, many of whose ancestors arrived in 1492, along with the Muslims, from Granada. For the most part the Jews and Muslims lived and worked together in North Africa, and their shared and intermingled culture still survives in the arts and music. We may be passing through a moment in history when politics and religion have contrived to make it seem as if such a thing can never happen again, but music is a great unifier and Noureddine and others have taken their music to festivals and events outside of Algeria and played with other musicians from around the world. Aside from the traditional Arabo-Andalusian music, Algeria is the source of ‘rai’, which began in Oran in Western Algeria the 1920s. While the themes of love, loss, betrayal and solitude remain the same, rai has absorbed jazz, rock and hip hop influences and from the early great singers such as Khaled and Ahmed Wahby, current singers include Cheb Mami and Rashid Taha who are known worldwide. I saw Rashid Taha in concert in San Francisco a few years back. The venue was packed and at the end of his performance he said the concert was for everyone regardless of race, religion or color. He may have been thinking of his homeland which at that time was still under siege. Algeria’s struggle for independence from France was long and hard and left it in an economic and social vacuum – a country searching for an identity. Socialism did not bring the country prosperity and by the mid 1980s Algeria faced an economic recession and a social crisis. Into this morass stepped the Islamists; preaching “Islamic values” and using the ailing state as a reason for embracing the idea of an Islamic republic, many people believed it could only be a better alternative, and in December 1991 the Islamic party won the first round of national elections. The state promptly suspended the second round of elections and by mid 1992 over the next 10 years, the country descended into savage brutality with insurgency killings followed by military reprisals; journalists, artists, musicians, politicians, monks, and foreigners were all victims, but it was ordinary Algerians who suffered most. During the financial crisis years, some young Algerians had gone off to fight in Afghanistan - many of them came back with guerilla training and extremist views. Algerians say they had a decade of our 9/11, that they had to deal with ‘al-Qaeda’ long before we did. They also say they were abandoned by the world until 9/11 when the West was forced to confront what had hitherto been obvious to them – that a group of hardened extremists were bereft of conscience and capable of unimaginable atrocity. In 2005 an amnesty was declared, not all Algerians are in agreement with this but the war was murky - people do not know for certain who did what to whom and the country is tired of war and needs to move forward. On this point people are unanimous. Stability is resuming and there have been no major incidents, but traveling throughout the country it is impossible to miss the signs of the recent past violence; thousands of checkpoints manned by heavily-armed army, military police, and gendarmerie police are dotted at major intersections on roads and on highways everywhere.

Picture of the Day

The Algerian Flag

Painted on a wall - this is the national flag. I am told that green is the color of Islam and paradise, white is for peace, red is for blood (shed in the fight for independence), and is in the form of the crescent moon, another symbol of Islam and the star denoting the revolution.

The First days

In this post: Tlemcen, Algerian Wine, Miliana, Mascara. June 6, 2006 680 years, 11 months and 3 weeks after Ibn Battuta set out from his hometown of Tangier Morocco, on his epic journey, I have arrived in Algiers, capital city of Algeria to re-create his journey. Since one of the goals of my trip is to re-create the journey as closely to the original as possible, you might well ask why I am not en route to Tangier. And the answer is that the land border between Morocco and Algeria is currently closed. In 1325 Ibn Battuta got as far as the Red Sea before facing his first obstacle, in 2006 I could not have left his homeland without some major route deviation. I console myself with the knowledge that in one sense, Algeria is where it all began – this is where a manuscript of IB’s travels was found in 1839 having languished since it was written in 1354, the discovery and translation of which was to put the “Prince of Travelers” on the map, so to speak. TLEMCEN And so I backtrack to Tlemcen, an Algerian city near the Moroccan border, and the first place mentioned by IB after leaving Tangier.

I then came to the city of Tilimsan (Tlemcen)...........and after a stay of three nights in Tilimsan to procure what I needed I left.....

He wrote nothing about the town itself although it was then of considerable importance having been a capital city under the Almoravid dynasty in the 11th century. All that remains of a 12th century complex built in Tlemcen. Ibn Battuta may well have stayed here. The drive to Tlemcen induces nostalgia and not a little melancholy at the sight of shuttered churches, abandoned wineries, tumbledown French provincial architecture; townhouses, farmhouses and estates as well as tree-lined streets and country roads – not to mention undulating fields with endless rows of mature vines. This scene which is replayed over and over throughout northern Algeria, could have been uprooted and transplanted whole from some French country town, and in its ochre-colored timelessness it is at once obvious that there was no thought that one day the owners would be forced to leave it all behind. But there are other images; white domed marabouts (Islamic ‘saints’ or holy men, a rich tradition in North Africa), huge stork’s nests perched precariously atop minarets, electricity pylons, and chimneys, almond and olive groves and orchards of peach, apple and pear, fields of chick peas, potatoes and beans, and straw-hatted, shepherds with flocks of shorn sheep, while in the towns and villages old men banter lazily in the shade of a plane tree or in a sidewalk café. There is a timelessness here too – one that is much older than the exodus of the French in the wake of Algerian Independence in 1962. Over the years, Tlemcen absorbed waves of immigrants, invaders and conquerors; Andalusian Muslims and Jews forced to leave Spain after the ‘Reconquista’ in 1492, the Spanish and Turkish in the early and mid 16th century respectively, and finally the French in 1830. (Led by the charismatic national hero, Emir Abdelkader, Tlemcen resisted French colonial rule until 1842.) Such an intermingling of cultures has given the city a rich history in architecture, art and music, and Tlemcen still retains a gracious quality due to a harmony of architecture, public squares, and streets lined on both sides with shade-giving plane and maple trees. (Not to mention a goodly number of fair and red headed denizens with startling blue and green eyes.) Ibn Battuta may not have said a word about the town but he would most certainly have prayed at the 12th century Grand Mosque in the town square, and so I went off to have a look. Unlike neighboring Morocco and Tunisia, non-Muslims may generally enter Mosques in Algeria, mornings only and outside the hours of prayer. This one was no exception and, loaned the ubiquitous all-enveloping cloak at the door, I went inside. Light flowed in from an open courtyard and colored glass windows, and here and there leaning against the wide white pillars on woven Persian style rugs, were dotted small groups of men of all ages who sat listening to an Islamic teacher, some sat alone deep in thought, while others prayed individually. The atmosphere was tranquil yet there was a sense of energy and purpose in the quiet discussions which were taking place around the hall. I think old Ibn Battuta would have approved. Being a man of some piety, he would also have visited the tomb of Sidi Boumedienne, a Sufi saint born in Seville in Spain in 1126. The Mosque, which has impressively enormous cedar doors which are said to have arrived spontaneously from Spain (!), was not built until 1328 - 3 years too late for Ibn B - but the tomb itself was built at the end of the 12th century. This lovely complex in the hills above Tlemcen, is the site of pilgrimage to the present day with little yellow taxis discharging carloads of pilgrims all day long. It has recently undergone renovation in the wake of insurgent attacks in the 1990s, and as Ibn B. would say, “we shall speak more of this later…..” ALGERIAN WINE As an aside - I am fairly certain Ibn B would not have sampled - Tlemcen has some very good wines – Algerians have taken over the wine business and are producing some respectable wines including the Coteaux de Tlemcen – a red wine served lightly chilled. It is however not easy to find local restaurants which serve wine or beer but Samir at the White Rose Restaurant does an excellent grilled lamb chop and serves delicious mint tea with cheerful banter. MASCARA En route to Algiers I stop at Mascara, also an important wine center - so important that nobody knows where the wineries are. Eventually a policeman (Algerian traffic policemen and women are unfailingly polite and always helpful) gives us directions and although not perfect they are enough to set us on the right path and so it is that I meet with Cherif Kaddour from ONCV Mascara who takes me through the cave and their wine making process as well as a quick tour of their vineyards. At the height of wine production in Algeria, there were some 200 ‘caves’ in Mascara, there are now 5. It is not easy being a winemaker in Algeria; it is a Muslim country and even though it is not ‘dry’ and restaurants do serve wine, it is not yet something which is freely publicized or marketed. MILIANA I continue towards Miliana the next town mentioned by Ibn B again only in passing - mainly to mention that one of his traveling companions died and his son buried him there..... It is however a charming village which sits on a hill dominating the surrounding countryside overlooking fields of olives, wheat, vines and orchards. The fruits of this abundance are sold by the side of the road and even along the autoroutes; freshly baked bread, snails, figs, peaches and plums, bags of potatoes and strings of onions. When I thought of Algeria I am not now sure what I expected, but it was not this. It remains an agricultural country and the countryside is remarkably beautiful for it. This evening I am staying in the home of an Algerian family who live in a country town outside of Algiers in a modern three-storey house. The couple has 13 year old twins and a son who as he is soon to be married will live on one entire floor with his new bride. Marriages though not arranged nowadays are still a big affair. The wedding usually takes place over three days and nine changes of dress are required for the bride (financial situation permitting) including the traditional Western white gown. Affluent families invite upwards of 150-200 guests and rent a hall or house for the occasion. Nowadays the event will usually be catered but years ago all the women in the family did all the cooking. I got this information because this family had married two daughters and I got to see the wedding album! Incidentally the bridegroom pays for it all. Tomorrow, Roman Algeria in the form of Tipaza and Cherchell. Ibn B never mentioned any pre-Islamic sites except the pyramids which he described as 'cones' suggesting he did not see them himself, although he would have come across many others on his journey. I am making a detour to see what are for me the last of the Roman ruins in Africa.

Algeria Map