disclaimer and the worth of travel

Hello all

So it seems that I am beginning the inevitable descent from purely an observer into an editorialist. I am beginning to feel comfortable in my knowledge and experience here and i start to make connections. I hope that this actually makes the posts more interesting though it will also make them more controvercial. So here I believe that a disclaimer/clarifier is due.

First off, you must understand that my ability to blog is a luxury. I try very hard to not bring out my computer in public. Two reasons; first that it distracts me from the real goal of experiencing Africa and its peoples, second that it further encourages the image of me as the rich American. Now it is true that by comparison I am the rich American but it is something I try to downplay and I think the scraggly beard and dusty clothes do their bit to help. The result is that my posts here are both overly-concise and somewhat unedited.

Therefore, and due to the vastness of the world, I deal in generalizations. Don't we all? There are exceptions to every rule and subtlties that I can't begin to fathom in such a short time. So I apologize for those shortcomings right now. Believe me it is not something I find comfortable. At home i rail against stereotypes and generalizations and i will do my best even here to recognize individual acts vs. rules of thumb.

I come at Africa from my own personal background with ingrained predjudice and with a viewpoint tainted by 31 years of experiences, media, beliefs, etc.

So please take my posts as what they are: the stream of consciousness ramblings of a sleep-deprived, western-educated, early-thirties, ex-midwestern, American with ex-pat dreams. This is not a cop-out "present company excluded", but the recgnition that i can't always mention the exceptions or even clarify when i am talking about the minority.

So when I post that the midwest has car culture, fast food, and shopping as a hobby this is not to say that is all there is. But there are some people who shop not because they need something but rather because they need something to do. You can see them at 'the mall' any Friday evening. I do not believe it to be my place to judge the relative worth of this 'hobby' but it is always something I found frustrating when I lived within that as a cultural norm.

And if you don't believe in either the existance or the detrimental result of car-focused culture and urban planning, email me as i have the metrics to prove it.

So when i post (as i do below) that i think everyone should hold a passport, it is what it is: my opinion on the psychological significance of the document. I won't ask you not to take offense because perhaps I offend on purpose, but take offense in a way that thinks critically about my editorial.

I hope to hold on to most of my readership even as i fall from scientific observer to polemical hack as I think there are at least a few of you out there and I seem less crazy if someone reads what i write.

Here ends the boring fine print...

So after a long and cold bus ride I am back in Tunis. I elected to take the 9pm bus from Douz, reasoning that a nine-hour bus ride would get in around 6am. Grab some breakfast and check in early to a hotel. I figure the night bus is less crowded, i'll get some sleep, save myself a hotel room for the night. So i dressed as warmly as I could, wrapped myself in both of my headscarves and burrowed into the seat. I was right that the bus was nearly empty though as uncomfortable as ever. And cold! I did get a few hours sleep before we arrived at 5:30am. I elected to wait in the bus station for sunrise rather than walk around finding a hotel in the pitch dark. I managed to navigate successfully toward downtown and even recognized a street name from my earlier visit to Tunis.

I switched hotels based on a conversation with a Frenchman in Douz and am I ever glad! The Grande Hôtel de France was once quite a lovely place. Even now its fading glory is quite nice; high ceilings, tile floor, a little balcony out to the courtyard. Even a desk and phone in my room!

I'm doing some research on safari operators in Tanzania as trying to see the parks with public transit and self guiding doesn't seem possible - more money and less chance of seeing what you want. But I think the plan will be to get across from Dar Es Salaam to the south-western border quickly. From there I walk across a bridge and hopefully get into Malawi - a small counrty of 12 million bordered by Tanzania, Zambia, and Mozambique. I am looking at two little islands on giant Lake Malawi where I can hopefully disappear for a bit. The ferry runs once northbound and once southbound per week.

My French continues to improve (from 'attrocious' to merely 'awful' and hopefully it will be only 'bad' soon). I managed to have some interesting conversation with the aforementioned Frenchman and his Columbian girlfriend. It took our combined English, French, Spanish, Italian, and maybe even some German. Good times! We were watching the world news and conversing about our agreed position on the importance of leaving home and seeing things that are unfamiliar. I really feel that it is important to have a passport. Even if you aren't using it I think that it helps locate you in the world. I recognize that not everyone has the time or inclination to go travel for an extended period and even that there are plenty of varied and interesting places within the US, but I still think that having a passport just helps you see what else is out there.

In other news, Mr. Bush (unconfirmed rumor has it he didn't have a passport prior to the presidency - not editorializing, just repeating the facts as they were told to me) proceeded me yesterday into Tanzania. I hope that he paves the way well for me. Perhaps I should check his schedule so he doesn't think I am following him. Ms. Rice is here somewhere as well.

Listening: My computer is having problems playing the music I brought with me and is only able to play the music i added during my trip. So Arabic and Balkan music it is.

Reading: Just picked up a copy of Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Books to get me in the mood.

OH and here is the baby camel as promised: