26 September 2009
Is censorship merely an inevitable part of living in the Middle East? Certainly, I would love to believe that Islam can be present without censorship. However, Islamic countries do have a strong tendency to be more conservative than Christian countries. To what extent this conservativism is linked to a lower standard of development, of course, remains to be seen. I would not find it out of place to discover that less developed Christian countries (such as those in Central and South America, for example) are just as conservative as some of the more liberal Islamic countries (such as Morocco, Turkey, Tunisia, Egypt, Indonesia, etc). Nevertheless, life in Tunisia requires a certain amount of censorship, which is part of a larger inclination to promote or enforce a certain kind of morality. More specifically, this morality is a Muslim morality (which I find only natural, seeing as 98% of the population is Muslim).
Agreed, living in the US also imposes a certain kind of morality. Laws prohibit us from harming others, or from forcing our views onto other people. This in and of itself is a kind of –morality—we believe that it is immoral to hurt others. That seems fairly standard.
Naturally, the government and the culture of Tunisia impose a different kind of morality than that found in the US. For example, there is a large French-chain supermarket about 10 minutes away from my apartment. As I mentioned earlier, you could not buy alcohol in this supermarket during Ramadan since Ramadan is a holy Islamic month and observant Muslims are not supposed to drink alcohol (interestingly enough, pork is also forbidden to observant Muslims, yet pork was still available for purchase during Ramadan). Now that Ramadan is over, the alcohol cellar is open again. Some other teachers went to this wine cellar yesterday to buy some wine (another teacher was having a house warming and French people simply cannot show up without wine of some sort). As yesterday was Friday (the Muslim holy day), there were guards standing outside the wine cellar checking IDs. Presumably, if you are Tunisian (and thus, likely Muslim), you are not allowed to buy wine on Fridays (though this is permitted every other day of the week). Interestingly enough, wine is made in Tunisia, but hard liquor is not. Thusly, wine is reasonably priced, while a liter of Absolut vodka goes for as much as 140 TD (approximately $108 USD). I sincerely doubt that it is that expensive to import vodka, and so must conclude that this is another attempt to enforce Muslim morality.
Another example of this: you cannot access YouTube via the internet in Tunisia. That’s right, YouTube is banned (as are a number of different websites). Of course, this has not prevented the Tunisian youth from figuring out a way around this, but for the less technically savvy, YouTube is inaccessible.
Similarly, I have heard that Tunisian movie theaters only show movies from the Arab world (however, having not been to a Tunisian movie theater myself, I cannot confirm this). I do know for a fact, however, that Hollywood movies are shown on television on Arabic channels. The movies are all dubbed into Arabic. It is perfectly alright to show people getting shot or violence or uncensored cursing (presumably because no Arabic people understand English curse words), but all kisses are completely cut from the movie. That’s right, you cannot see people kiss (even nice, sweet kisses) but you can see people die or hear the word f***. It makes the movie slightly more difficult to understand when it skips portions entirely.
Lastly, as I mentioned in my previous post, the school has changed the photocopying policy for all of the teachers so that the Assistant Headmaster now sees all of our documents before we pass them out in class. The reason given for this is that the school hopes to improve organization and efficiency. Nevertheless, it would be fairly convenient to deny photocopies for a document which the Assistant Headmaster found offensive or inappropriate. Agreed, there are certain things which I do not think a teacher should bring up in a middle school or high school setting. But isn’t that my decision as a teacher?
Censorship, of course, is simply a part of Tunisian life which cannot be avoided, and I myself am never harmed by the lack of certain things. I can certainly live without YouTube and other websites, kisses in films, and alcohol during Ramadan—it may be irritating or inconvenient, but I’m pretty sure I’ll live. More serious is the potential censorship of the documents which I think are necessary to learning.
My question is, at what point should I stop seeing the censorship as another facet of the culture or as something merely inconvenient, and start seeing it as morally wrong?
24 September 2009
When I had to get my French visa, and then my Austrian visa, I thought that I had encountered the epitome of bureaucracy. Alas, it was not so. The wonders of European bureaucracy are unmatched by the tangled web which is Arabic management. For example, I, as a teacher, am not allowed to make my own photocopies for class. If I would like to print out a test for class, I have to email the test as an attachment to the man in charge of photocopies, with information about what class it’s for, and when you need it by. Of course, you are supposed to do this 24 hours in advance. Yet, even when you give more than 24 hours to complete the photocopies, the only way you can be sure that the copies are done is if you go see the photocopier and watch him make the copies. You are required to sign a record of each photocopy made for you, and keep a copy of everything you hand out in class. To add icing to the cake, this system has suddenly become more complicated. Where once we only had to send emails to the photocopier, now anything that we want to copy must be submitted to the Assistant Headmaster at least 48 hours in advance. After she signs off on it, then we have to resubmit the document to the photocopier. Ostensibly, this new system is supposed to lighten the workload for the man in charge of photocopies (while simultaneously creating more work for the Assistant Headmaster…not exactly efficient). Yet, nevertheless, the word “censorship” is being whispered in hushed tones at the teacher’s residence (a subject which I will delve into in a later post).
This is a great example of how things are prioritized in Arabic countries—relationally. Personal relationships are extremely important, and so if you want to get something done, you have to be nice and make friends with the person first. Personal relationships make the world go round; not the Protestant work ethic, not capitalism, and not the search for pleasure, but relationships.
Here’s another good example. To find out how things happen at school, I hear about it through rumor, through other people. The only centralized system of information distribution is a cork board in the teachers’ room. All official notices are posted here, often with only 24 hours notice, and some of them are posted with the assumption that everyone knows what they concern. I have become especially adept at saying the French phrases “Qu’est-ce que ça veut dire?” (What does this mean?) and “Donc, je fais quoi exactement?” (So, I’m doing what now?). Information is passed along by word of mouth, so if you want to be in the loop, you have to make an effort to make friends with people in the know. For someone used to the impersonal yet efficient organization of the Occidental world, this can be infuriatingly frustrating and opaque. Of course, the Tunisian teachers and administrators see nothing out of the ordinary, and there’s nothing to be done but to calm down and realize: c’est comme ça (that’s the way it is).
13 September 2009
Recently, a great many things have occurred which I found curious or strange, as I know, dear reader, you will find them as well. For your amusement and cultural enlightenment, I have compiled a short list of interesting tidbits of the past week.
Lobster Escape
I went to a very chic, nice Italian restaurant specializing in seafood. When my friend and I were browsing through the menu, the waiter brought us a platter of fish. The idea behind this gesture was that we could select exactly which fish caught our fancy, and then have it prepared straight away. In the center of this scaly feast was a whole lobster. Just how fresh this lobster was exactly was proven while the waiter was taking our orders. Hearing that he was not to be our entrée, the lobster decided to make a run for safety, and proceeded to climb off of the platter. The waiter was not fazed a bit, and held the lobster in place with one hand while taking our orders down with the other. I, however, was slightly unnerved to discover that the lobster was still completely viable and attempting to run away.
Somewhere between apple juice and apple sauce
In the heat of the midday, I stopped in a café. Something cool and refreshing was in order, and apple juice seemed to fit the bill. I’m not certain, however, that what I was brought could be properly called “apple juice,” so much as “a whole apple which was liquefied in a blender.” I was actually unable to finish the apple juice because at the bottom were chunks of apple too big to fit into my straw, and I had no spoon.
Sorry, wrong number. But, would you like to get dinner?
Last week my Tunisian cell phone dialed incorrectly (or I did, perhaps), and I reached a person other than the one I was trying to contact. I said sorry, and hung up (standard wrong number operating procedure in the US). However, the man called me back and asked (in French), “Are you French?” “No,” I said, “Um…goodbye.” Approximately 5 days later, the same man called me back and said, “Oh, you called me a few days ago, and I was thinking, would you like to go out and get a tea together?” “Actually, no,” I said, “goodbye.” Such is the draw of the Occidental woman.
4 September 2009
Ramadan kareem! I’ve been in Tunisia for about a week and a half, and all I know is a Tunisia during Ramadan. Ramadan in Tunisia is really fascinating and wonderful. This is the month during which Allah revealed the Qu’ran to the Prophet Mohammed (a fact which I learned from watching a popular Tunisian TV show with my Tunisian neighbors). To honor this month, Muslims do not consume anything by mouth during daylight hours—so no food, drinks, or cigarettes from sun-up to sun-down. Normally Ramadan takes place later in the autumn, but since the Islamic calendar does not always correspond with the Gregorian calendar, this year it started on 21 August. As you might imagine, it’s HOT in Tunisia this time of the year. Very hot. This makes it even more difficult to go through the entire day without even having water. The Tunisian schools don’t even start classes this year until after Ramadan is over (19 September). Some of my Tunisian neighbors (they’re teenagers, mind you) deal with this by sleeping basically from sun-up to 6 pm, and then eating dinner at 7 pm when the sun goes down.
Due to Ramadan, all store hours change (with the exception of the big French supermarket). Stores don’t open until 9 or 10, and then they close between 2 and 4. Alcohol is normally available here in Tunisia for all of the tourists and French ex-patriots, but during Ramadan many stores discontinue selling it (since alcohol is forbidden to observant Muslims). In fact, some people can be very strict about this. One of my colleagues, a teacher from France, just couldn’t go any longer without a bottle of wine. She had to search high and low before she found a store that was still selling it. The store owner wrapped the wine bottle in paper and then she put it in her big purse so no one could see it. However, in the cab on the way back to her apartment, the driver heard the glass bottle clicking. He asked what it was, and she lied and said it was olive oil, but I guess he knew better and he made her get out of the cab and find another taxi. Of course, this is an extreme case, and the majority of Tunisians understand that non-Muslims will be eating and drinking during the day. For the most part, restaurants and cafes close during the day, except for some in touristy areas.
This is just during the day, however. After sunset, every night is like a party. Here, the sun sets around 7 pm, and people commence eating immediately. Good luck finding a taxi between 7 and 8, because everyone is home eating. Ramadan dinner always starts with a soup, chorba, which can take many variations depending on where it’s made. Here in Tunisia, it’s a chicken broth based soup with risotto and chicken. There’s also usually a roasted salad, made from roasted peppers, tomatoes, garlic, and olive oil—very spicy. There are also briks, which are pastries stuffed with egg, tuna, onions, and parsley (mmm…). There’s also Tunisian tajine, which is sort of like a casserole and an omlette, with eggs, cheese, a meat, and veggies. There is also usually pasta, or chicken made with lemon juice and olives. Of course couscous is also very popular. There are always desserts, such as baklava, cakes with dates, and hazelnut pudding.
After filling themselves to the brim, the Tunisians will start to trickle out of their homes around 9. They go to cafes and smoke hookah, or drink Turkish coffee (highly sweetened coffee with very fine coffee grounds) and mint tea, which is usually served with pine nuts. All in all, Ramadan is a month constantly between two poles—fasting and feasting, malaise and conviviality.
