Algeria and Tunis

by Frances E. Nesbitt

In Mohammedan Tunis, outside the Medina, perhaps the most typical quarter is that of Bab Souika, of which the Place Halfaouine, already mentioned, is the centre. Full of cafés, it is the scene of wild excitement during the month of Rhamadan, the great fast of the Mohammedans, kept, it is said, because Adam wept for thirty days when he was driven out of Paradise, before he obtained God’s favour and pardon. The fast is so strict that from sunrise to sunset no food whatever is taken, not so much as a cup of coffee, or even a drop of water on the hottest day, and smoking is also forbidden. Then when the sunset gun is fired, feasting and revelry begin, and are kept up all night. A certain gaiety and good humour is visible at all times. There are as many cafés as in the main street in Damascus, and in the afternoon they are always full of men smoking, and playing games. A young story-teller with the face of a monk holds his audience entranced by his dramatic talent. He not only tells his tales, but lives them. He has an endless flow of words, and never pauses except for effect. The listeners form a circle round him, either standing or sitting on the ground, wholly absorbed in the story. Snake charmers are his only rivals in the afternoon, but at night dancing goes on in some of the cafés.

Silk weaving and pottery are the industries of the district: one long bazaar is given up to weavers, and a row of queer, square shops to the sale of pottery. Porous water-jars, beautiful in form—some plain, others roughly decorated in dark lines, both wonderful for cooling water by evaporation—cost only a few sous. Green pottery for ordinary household use of a more durable kind, designed with a most unusual quaintness, is also to be had.

Another open space, devoted to snake charmers and a sort of rag fair, is to be found near Bab Djedid, the finest of the old gates. Old rubbish of all sorts—brass and iron, rugs, rags, glass and pottery, mostly broken—is spread out on the ground, and behind each little heap sits its watchful owner. A few women, usually Bedawin or negresses, bring food and grain, which they pile up on cloths, laid in the dust. Hither come all the strangers—men from the country and the desert, and here again the triumph of Tunis over all the cities of North Africa in the matter of clothing, of all varieties of shape and colour, is made manifest.

Here is no dull uniformity, no monotony, as in other places. The well-known white folds of the burnous may be admired once more, but raiment of camel’s-hair, in tones of warm brown, quite alters the scheme of colour. It is fashioned into a gandourah—a long, hooded coat or shirt reaching to the knees. Sometimes, however, the gandourah is hoodless, of a very dark brown tint and braided with white. Again, it is often striped in natural colours, or with threads of red and blue, but occasionally plain dark-blue is seen. Very often the wearers of brown burnouses might be taken for Franciscans, but when blankets with stripes and fringes are in question, no one but an Arab could arrange them with such unconscious art.

RAG FAIR

Long draperies and floating folds may outshine the Turkish dress of embroidered coat and vest, gay girdle, and full, short trousers, supplemented by a cloak, but it is equally popular. The same costume, without the coat, in white or drab, is worn by pedlars and fruit-sellers. Their legs are bare and their feet slippered; socks and shoes are pure luxury. These fruit-sellers are a joy. They own tiny donkeys, and lade them with huge open panniers of sacking, or queer double twin-baskets, lined with green, and filled with oranges in winter, and by the end of April with apricots or almonds. Fruit is both plentiful, cheap, and varied. The province was once the Roman granary, and could still do much for Europe in the way of luxuries, as well as send over great supplies of corn and olives.

The cook-shops have also fascinations. They are all dim and dark, mysterious with the smoke of ages and the steam of the moment. Dim figures flit busily to and fro, stirring strange ingredients in huge pans over their charcoal fires. Coloured tiles give relief and gaiety to the entrance, cover the stoves, and form a sort of counter. In early morning the maker of pancakes has it all his own way; at dinner-time he of the cous-couss does a thriving trade, and at night, and all night through, it is said there is a great sale for a special kind of peppery soup.

The walls and gates on this the southern side of Tunis are of great antiquity, and consist not only of the original walls of the old town, but also of an outer circle with five gates enclosing the suburb of El Djazira. Within its boundaries are held horse and cattle markets, which no doubt account for the variety of tribes and costumes to be seen.

Through the outer gate come caravans from the desert, and camels laden with fodder and fuel. Men and camels find a lodging in the many fonduks near the Bab el Fellah—resting-places as primitive and patriarchal as the caravans themselves.