Tunisia: The Tunis Souk Had My Number
by Shirley Moskow, The Homesteader

To say that I traveled the world in search of house numbers is only a slight exaggeration. Souvenir shopping took on a practical focus because I needed to replace my address numbers, which include the letter “A.”
Matching letters, I quickly learned, aren’t available in all fonts.

My search began last year, when I had my house painted. My address numbers mysteriously disappeared. Since then, I’ve directed first time visitors by telling them, “We’re the last house on the street, the one
without a number.”

Now that’s changed. My home sports attractive new address numbers. On a
recent trip to Tunisia, as I scurried through the crowded Tunis souk, I spied the perfect numbers, large, clearly painted on beautiful blue tiles with a stylilized floral border. The tiles were arranged with other lovely handmades in baskets beside the doorway of a small shop. I stopped.

“They’re just what I’ve been looking for,” I told the shopkeeper. “But I need the letter “A.”

“No problem,” he said, and disappeared behind a beaded curtain. I glanced at my watch. I was in a hurry to meet friends for lunch at Dar el-Jeld, a magnificent 18^th century mansion. I didn’t want to be late.

I’d no sooner looked up from my watch than the accommodating shopkeeper returned. His mustache wreathed a broad smile as he proudly held up the matching letter. We completed our transaction and I left with my
carefully wrapped purchase. Now every time I enter or leave my home, those tiles cue memories of an exotic trip.

Tunisia, the northernmost country in Africa, is an exotic destination to Americans and Canadians, but not to Europeans. They discovered long ago the salubrious Mediterranean climate, modern resort hotels with sandy beaches and spas, and the manicured golf courses that offer wallet
friendly vacations.

Travelers also appreciate the rich variety of cultural attractions. Several fabulous palaces like the Bardo, renown for its Roman mosaics, are now museums. Adventurers enjoy dune skiing and camel trekking in the Sahara desert. I satisfied my yen for old-world luxury aboard the bey
(provincial governor of the Ottoman Empire) of Tunis’s richly appointed and refurbished private train, /Lezard Rouge/, the Red Lizard. Star Wars fans come for the archaeological sites of Matmata and Tataouine, where George Lucas filmed his epics.

By contrast, in the countryside, where many men and women wear traditional dress, the desert landscape takes on a biblical aura.
Crafts, from weaving rugs to making furniture, are still done by hand. On the Island of Djerba, I visited a potter’s cave. From earthen floor to ancient beamed roof, whitewashed walls groaned under shelves of decoratively painted wares. The potter’s specialty is a teapot that cannot spill. He tipped it over and demonstrated. “Magic,” he said, delighting perplexed onlookers.

A visit to a home turned small inn yielded some simple furnishing ideas. An intimate seating arrangement complemented a narrow alcove. A crib-size mattress, wrapped in white fabric, rested on the floor wall to wall. Several plump bed pillows covered in the same white fabric provided comfortable backrests.

Desire for an attractive, comfortable home is universal. My tile address reminds me that we have much in common and much to learn from people who appear exotic.