The Place Where I Live, Hammamet, Tunisia

I've lived in Costa Rica, Poland, and across the United States. By nature, I'm a nomad. I've spent the past decade living in Great Britain and Europe. In January, my life changed. Love in the form of a stunning, intelligent Tunisian man changed my whole world. He told me not to move to Tunisia, that it'd be hard for me. He tried to reason with me, but love won. I didn't fully understand what he meant then, but I do now.

My first stop was in Sidi Bou Said, Tunisia. It's a pretty blue and white town with cobblestone streets. I spent a total of 3 weeks in this picturesque place and it's where I got engaged, so my memories tend to be favorable. I'm in good company. Micheal Foucault and Aleister Crowley both spent time here.

The city is named after Abu Said al-Baji who was a Sufi scholar who was a disciple of the great Sufi Master Abu Madyan, In the 19th century, the elite of Tunis built Sidi Bou Said as a refuge from the chaos of the capital.
Most foreigners don't see Tunis, not really. They might stroll around the medina or visit the ruins of Carthage but they don't see the reality of day-to-day life here.

When my Fiance and I moved from Sidi Bou to Ariana I witnessed how Tunisia changed from the mirage of paradise to its messy actuality. As a feminist, an American, and an expatriate I knew adapting to an Islamic country would be challenging.

Did you know if you just peck your partner on the mouth here you can go to prison? You need formal pieces of paper for a man and a woman to simply walk down the street together! You're required to register with the police.

Also, attempting to rent an apartment is an uphill battle. If you want to get a place together you need a marriage certificate. As a westerner, this all seems quite intrusive.

The trouble began when we moved to Ariana and rented an Airbnb. We didn't like our host but the apartment suited our needs and it was comfortable. We could walk to Carrefour, the patisserie, and have coffee.

I noticed that people paid too much attention to me, both men and women. I found them staring at my tattoos, at my eyes, and, at my partner. As a Southerner, we're taught to kill people with kindness. I attempted to do that but it backfired.

The Airbnb host misunderstood my friendliness. He started to knock on the door when my Fiance wasn't home. I caught him staring in the windows every day, and lingering in the hallways.

Toward the end of our stay, I knew it wasn't safe for me to be alone there.
Before we left, we cleaned the place well. It wasn't good enough for stalker BNB, he demanded we return to the apartment give him 100 TND (about 30 GBP), and insulted us repeatedly.

He continued to send threatening text messages to my Fiance over WhatsApp. My partner couldn't help but put him in his place with sharp Tunisian texts.

I reported him. They removed his nasty review but kept him on the site. Airbnb doesn't do anything about harassment and intimidation. Maybe I've seen too many police kill innocent People of Color in the United States, but I doubt the Tunisian authorities would have helped us either. To think, I was worried about the wild pigs who live on the outskirts of Nasser!

Ramadan taught me a lot about Islam and my new Tunisian family and friends. I see a lot of strength in them, not just during Ramadan, but year-round. However, as a Pagan, this holy month is excruciating. The heat began in May. Our Nasser flat did have air conditioning but the slumlord didn't give us the remote.

I'm not sure how many days we just laid in that rickety bed waiting for nightfall, but it was a minimum of 2 weeks. When we did go out, it didn't matter if I wore shorts, baggy pants, or a modest skirt, men hungrily stared at me like we were in Amsterdam's Red Light District. My Fiance nearly got in half a dozen fights. For the record, this has less to do with me and more to do with my hair and eye color.

Once, in Nasser, I walked two apartment buildings over to take out the garbage. A man followed me imitating the sounds to get a cat's attention. I wasn't shocked, but I did hustle my way back home.

To be fair, while some Tunisian people make me feel like a zoo animal, it's only fair to note that they don't attempt to touch me. It's safer for women in Tunisia than in many American cities, particularly if you're in the company of a man you trust.

There's no alcohol during this time. People delay even drinking water until nightfall. I enjoyed the family dinners with my new nieces and nephews. As a time of spiritual reflection, I was too focused on the tension of the period rather than connecting to the ethereal realm. I know I don't fully understand. Yet, I respect the people who observe this important religious rite.

After two excruciating long months in Nasser, we decided to move to the main tourist town, Hammamet. We chose this place because we truly believed the high number of tourists would give us more privacy, and more anonymity, but we were wrong.

I have to admit, I caved after Nasser. I knew it'd be a process finding a flat in Hammamet. I needed to be comfortable. In the meantime, we splurged and rented a villa at a 4-star hotel. It wasn't the luxury it was supposed to be. The food was terrible, housekeeping worse, and the mosquitoes held a full-scale attack.

However, the saddest part of what was supposed to be our holiday was how German tourists treated my partner.

We enjoy each other's company and tend to stick to ourselves. People mean problems.
One night at the hotel bar, an older woman and her husband from Dusseldorf, Germany invited themselves to our table. They were shit-faced, drunk. My Fiance offered his hand in friendship and while she took it, she quickly wiped it away on her backside.

Furthermore, when they couldn't seem to handle getting back to their room, my Fiance asked, "do you need help?" The German man (who looked like a cartoon of a drunk) said, "yes," then he went on to say "not from you."

I don't know why they were such racist assholes, but I was relieved the next day when the barman said they checked out.

So many people from abroad just see hotels and tourist attractions. They think people are naturally friendly but what the tourists don't see is the poverty behind the smile. Tunisians who work in taxis and hospitality don't have a choice. They slave away for 30 TND (6 GBP) per day. The unemployment rate is close to 30% and the government isn't helping.

Each time we walk around the marina, children, elderly, and disabled people attempt to sell us Jasmine flowers, nuts, or tissues. The worst is the cat lady at the grocery store, not because she's pushy, but because I know that a couple of Dinar isn't enough. It hurts to say no to others, but living as a remote worker doesn't always mean you have extra funds.

We live within 15 minutes of walking distance to the beach. I love the ocean. I feel God is with me when I gaze at the infinite, blue waves.

Life is anything but serene in Hammamet. Police haunt the main street at night, blaring sirens and flashing lights. They pull over anyone and demand 20 TND (4 GBP) for doing absolutely nothing.

My Fiance and I keep our heads down. I write about fintech and study nerdy stuff. We feed the stray dogs and cats, watch TV, and pray the air conditioner lasts throughout the summer.