Nellie Windmill

Mike and I have been back in Europe for a month since wintering in Tunisia, North Africa. I’m summing up our three months in Tunisia in one blog post so this is going to be mammoth. You have been warned.

If you’re a fan of beauty, the environment and being treated like a person rather than a bank/bottle-shop/floosy then you would probably find Tunisia a bit challenging. There are good things about the country and I am going to highlight them but I’m also going to impart my general impressions and generally speaking, our time in Tunisia was a bit shit. Having said that, if you’re only going to be in the country for a few weeks you probably won’t be as affected by the less salubrious aspects of the place as we were during our three month stay. The negative experiences we had would most likely be mere annoyances during a short visit but proved to be exhausting and kind of soul crushing after a month or two.

Before we begin, just one caveat I want to get out of the way. Each of the negative experiences I’m going to touch on here could easily be the subject of an in-depth sociological/anthropological/political/philosophical essay. After spending five years at university studying exactly those subjects and 3.5 years working with asylum seekers and refugees as a social worker you’d probably think I’d be keen to get my academic on and sink my teeth into these complex social issues. Well, I’m not. I’m just putting them out there. This is what I saw/experienced, this is how I felt about it, the end.

The Entire Country Needs a Woman’s Touch

You can tell that women don’t get much of a say in Tunisia because everything man-made is utilitarian, undecorated, unadorned, un-beautified, bleak, barren… you get my drift. To be in a place so devoid of any charm or beauty weighed on me. I suppose that will sound rather petty and frivolous to some but it’s important to me.

A Sign of Progress

We had a very interesting conversation with a man who was a big fan of Osama Bin Laden. Probably the only thing he said that made any sense to me was his dismay at the Tunisian government’s pro-Western policies and the price he saw his country paying for “development”. Quite simply the more Tunisia “develops”, the more stuff is consumed and discarded and the result is pretty depressing.

Do I look like a bank/bottle-shop/floosy?!

We actually met a lot of really friendly people in Tunisia, but unfortunately we were obviously considered easy targets by the country’s entire population of douche-canoes. Mike and I really stood out in Tunisia and a lot of people would say hi, ask us where we were from and welcome us to their country and a lot of those same people would ask us for money or whisky – which is to be expected as westerners in a developing country but gets draining after a while. On top of that, Tunisian men seem to be under the impression that western women are well up for it (and I suppose some of them are), as a significant amount of the encounters I had with men involved one or more of the following:

1. Asking if I was married (usually the first thing they ask, presumably in order to know where they stand but seem perfectly happy to ignore my marital status as well)
2. Touching me (holding my hand, hugging me, stroking my cheek, putting their arm around me)
3. Asking if Mike is my brother
4. Telling me I am very beautiful, have beautiful eyes, etc
5. Asking me to touch my elbows together behind my back (admittedly this only happened once)
6. Asking me out for “coffee”

In the interest of full-discolure the worst of these encounters did occur when I was inappropriately dressed. A singlet top must be a veritable feast for the eyes in a country where not even men wear short sleeves. My bad.

I Miss Women

You don’t see women very often in Tunisia. Public space is for men. There’s something about an all male presence which imbues a place with a menacing air (just me?).

Having said all of that, Tunisia does have some extraordinary places. If you’re travelling to Tunisia, these are the places that would be criminal to miss:

Sfax Medina

We’d read about bad experiences other people had had with aggressive stall owners at medinas (and then experienced it in Tunis) but consistently read that Sfax medina is an exception. We went and it was. We weren’t hassled at all (look at that guy, he barley even knows we’re there).

A highlight of our entire trip to Tunisia was meeting these two young women at the Sfax medina. They were like a breath of fresh air. It was just wonderful getting a young woman’s perspective on life in Tunisia after having only spoken to men for such a long time.

Ksar Ouled Soltane

This place was just plain cool. We even got an impromptu religion lesson (he called it “history”, Mike called it “mythology”) from a guy who was selling his art out of one of the rooms. Such a shame they don’t build them like this anymore.

Chenini

To be honest, I didn’t actually see much of Chenini given the intense concentration I was devoting to not being blown away or getting fistfuls of sand in my eyes, nose and mouth. Plus I may have had a concussion so who am I to say whether or not you should go there. The photos turned out pretty though.

The Sahara

Indescribable. Just do it. No questions asked.

The Chott El Jerrid Salt Lake

Magical. THE highlight of my time in Tunisia. I just looove the quirky little salt sculptures and decorations too.

Dougga’s Roman Ruins

The most intact Roman ruins we’ve visited. They were so startling complete I could easily imagine what this town would have looked like. It put me in mind of the City of Rohan from Lord of the Rings with its tiered streets built into the side of the hill.

Miscellaneous Pretties

Wow, you’re still here?! Thank you for coming with me on this epic journey. If you’ve somehow still got more in you and are craving details of our Tunisian adventure head over to my partner’s blog for all the juicy bits.

I’m at the stage in the evolution of my art where every painting is a learning exercise. In fact, I suspect even seasoned artists would say as much in a steal-my-thunder kinda way but I think my curve is much steeper. As an artist I’m so green that the new art and artists I’m constantly encountering online result in me frenziedly attempting a different style of painting every week. So far I’ve tried Wabi Sabi, abstract landscapes, steampunk, mixed media, artography, and oil painting. This leaves me feeling kind of exhilarated and somewhat unauthentic at the same time. Most of the time I’ll notice an element of a painting I like and try to replicate it with my limited skill set. If you haven’t already guessed, the above painting was inspired by Kelly Rae Roberts’ trademark patchwork collages and messy brayered backgrounds. Intellectually I know that it’s not copying, it’s imitation as a learning exercise. I remember seeing art students sitting in front of masterpieces at the Louvre and sketching them presumably for the very same reason.

However, I, like many people, have hang-ups when it comes to making art. There’s a little voice in my head that sometimes suggests that if I can’t render bowls of fruit photo-realistically or if I’m not being a wacko who does weird shit with stuff then I’m not really an artist and I certainly shouldn’t have to develop a style. I suspect a lot of people stop making art or never begin for similar insecurities. There are a lot of practical philosophies that hold as true for art making as they do for life that I can fall back on at this point and placate such insecurities. Enjoying the process and not being in a rush to get to the end is a good one. Another one is that nothing worth doing is easy. Both rock solid, clichéd, but rock solid. However, the one thing that gives me an instant dose of concrete certainty that I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing is remembering how I felt about art when I wasn’t making it. It hurt to look at beautiful things I didn’t create. They gave me a deep-down emotional ache. They made me feel intensely jealous of the person who created it. A particularly exquisitely sexy piece of eye candy could even make me angry in an upset kind of way. For anyone out there who doesn’t know what to do with their lives, doesn’t know what their passion is, think of the thing that makes you feel like that and go out and do it. I suppose this is kind of the dark side of the “do what excites you” coin – “do what pisses you off because you’re not doing it”. No matter what insecurities come up for me in my art making from here on out, it doesn’t matter, because I wield their kryptonite.