Mapping M'zab

A beautiful, sunny, chilly day, about 15C or so. Z and I head into Ghardaïa again, on a minibus that was rather pushing its passenger capacity limits. I tell her as we get off the bus that I just wanted to get a coffee before we head to the library. I might as well have said strip club instead of a coffee bar - she tells me that she would never have come along if I hadn't. But for 25 dinar (about 20 cents) I can hardly refuse truly excellent espresso. I tell Z that if I stayed longer here, I'd probably start a revolution by going to coffee shops every day. We slip out of the man cave.

I return to the library, where I have a very good collecting and reading session. I am not sure that I've ever received such amazing service - after helping me dig through digitized images of photographs and maps, L put all the ones I wanted on my usb stick. He probably spent an hour just helping me out on this. And said that if I wanted more I could just e-mail him. I thought this was all quite extraordinary but he tells me this is his normal work.  He and the other librarian left me on my own during the lunch siesta, also quite extraordinary I thought. But whatever, miracles can happen in libraries too.

I leave mid-afternoon, and most of the town is still depeuplée, dozed off in seista. However preparations are being made for Saturday's opening day of the Fête du Tapis, the carpet festival held every year here. And with that, the military seems to have ramped up to 3-4 personnel every block. Roads will be closed off, so Z and I will move to Ghardaïa and stay with the daughter of our hostess, who lives right where the festival will be taking place.

The region is religiously very conservative (think Puritan), and my Malian scarf wrapped around my head is the least I can do to fit in more. I find it also works to protect from sand. Also very practical is the national nose-and-mouth-cover for women, which is white and sometimes embroidered. We passed by a troupe of Japanese tourists yesterday and they had much the same surgical-type mouth protection. The mozabite women have a white adult one-sy - not dissimilar to the classic Halloween ghost costume made of a white bedsheet with two holes for eyes. Except here, there's only one hole for one eye (either one!) for married women. There's a bigger hole for more facial features for the unmarried, presumably so the guys can still check them out.

Successfully took on my own the minibus #30 back to the suburbs of El Atteuf, a minor logistic feat. Kabyl couscous for dinner with laib, which was delicious. I will have to make it on a hot summer day.