**This post is derived from an email that I wrote to my friends and family while traveling to Tunisia for a former job, working on conservation of Roman mosaics across the country.
Asalam alaykum min Tunis! (Greetings from Tunis!)
Obviously I have safely landed in Tunis...where is it 8:33pm Sunday (11:33am Sunday LA time).
When I got to the business class lounge at LAX, which I'm
stoked about, just in and of itself...and I see this guy - a famous one -
I'd seen once before, while dining at Pace in Laurel Canyon. A friend had mentioned at the time that it was so&so from
"The Shield." The guy sat down at the other end of
my row once I boarded my flight to Paris. I knew he was famous, but I
had no idea what his name was, and I don't watch the Shield, but some
Italian guys on our flight did, and got all over him to take pictures
while people were trying to board around them. He was really nice about
it, and when he sat down, I made some comment about it to him. He's
super nice, headed to Italy for a movie, and his girlfriend is one of
the directors of 11th Hour. I thought it was cute that he didn't push
his shows but told me I should go see hers! We talked about LA real
estate, politics and Barack vs Hillary vs Gore, LA in general, and our
backgrounds...it was nice. He's a cool guy - and he said I had a "very
interesting, well-rounded life".... His name is Walton Goggins, by the
way.
As soon as I got on my AirFrance flight, I started getting
nostalgic for Europe. Thanks, Mom & Dad, for making my childhood so
difficult to top! It was exceedingly difficult to hear the soft
cadences of French, listen to an announcement that I had landed in
Paris, and not take off running - screw the luggage - and just abandon
myself to the Musee D'Orsay, the Champs Elysees, the Latin Quarter, the
banks of the Seine, the crepes cart in the Latin quarter that makes
those to-die-for banana and Nutella crepes...but I resisted the urge
based on some random sense of duty to the Getty, and headed toward my
connecting gate. I was nearly there when I heard someone call out,
"Beth! Beth!" I wondered if I was having some sort of Shane Plossu
(for those of you who don't yet know Shane, you're in the minority, most
of the world does) moment - who the heck do I know at Charles de
Gaulle? I turned and it was Aurora, one of the PMs from the Getty. I
had had no idea we were on the same flight! It was a nice surprise!
Upon arriving in Tunis, I was relieved to find all my luggage
intact, including the asinine poster tubes I had to check (thanks to my
fantastic packing partner, I think, the tubes were barely banged up at
all!), and went to take some dinars out of the ATM, since I, like a
genius, hadn't brought any cash to exchange, nor did I have any extra
Tunisian dinars hanging around at home. The first ATM I tried told me
to take my card back, my request could not be completed. I got a bit
nervous, and went in search of a second, which told me the same thing. I
wanted to start hyperventilating, angry at Bank of America because I
had called them to alert them where I was going so that this wouldn't
happen, and now I am alone in North Africa without money to get to my
hotel...when...the third ATM was the charm. I guess the other two were
just out of money? Aurora told me that this happens a lot - fair
warning, I suppose, that would have been much more useful at the other
end of my journey. But the third ATM worked so I withdrew enough that I
could pay for my cab fare into Tunis. My cab driver was very sweet -
he was thrilled with my few words of Arabic that I shared, ruminated on
the difference between "Tunisi" and "Fus-ha", and felt the need to
describe in detail Eid-as-sagir, pulling the cab over to get out and hug
two cops standing by the side of the road ("I had to tell them happy
eid"), and how it was the end of Ramadan.
Once I had washed off the stink of 24 hours of travel at my cute
little hotel, I went in search of a supermarket to buy a few things I
had forgotten - on the way out, I dropped my dinar change. A man helped
me to pick it up - and when I said thank you, he responded "Afwan"
instead of "De rien." (Everyone else here had addressed me in French).
We spoke only in Arabic. At the end of our conversation, he
invited me to dinner with his brother and sister-in-law, and when I said
no (I am alone here, after all!) because I had to have dinner with
coworkers, he invited them too... I had a brief moment where I wondered
how his sister-in-law would feel if he showed up with 3 strangers in
tow...then he told me that if I don't call him before I leave, he will
cry! Arab hospitality, witnessed, check!
Anyhow, those are the adventures thus far. Tomorrow I am set to
explore the medina of Tunis before my coworkers arrive, and the mayhem
begins. Wishing you much happiness and a hot cup of mint tea, from
Tunis!
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