rock throwing, tunisia
i thought about trying to revisit the revolution.
to assess, somehow, what the passage of time had done, or revealed, or not. either way.
there were snippets of conversations - in a car, in a cafe, with a taxi driver.
but somehow it was all a little vague, a sense of wondering, of waiting, of not yet, of soon and shortly and nearby.
so we passed the afternoon throwing rocks at the sea,
though i never did see the splash
through the lenses of hope, scratched
habib bourguiba’s trademark glasses.
goodbye tunisia, goodbye.
day 33
protest tent run by taxi drivers, gafsa.
aymen 27
maths teacher. qualified. four years at university. wanted to begin his research masters, no places available. two years as a building labourer. two months as a shop keeper. will accept a teaching job anywhere, none available.
74 percent of us here in sidi bouzid are unemployed. in tunis? only 12 percent. the development of the costal regions has been at the expense of the interior. we have no proper hospital, no companies providing employment, no factories, no services, nothing. the only thing we had here was the police.
and we still don’t have justice.