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Showing posts with label Hammamet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hammamet. Show all posts

05 April 2020

Cemeteries - Tunisia


Some cribbing and commingling from a much earlier posts.

Tunisia is a secular country, estimated at 97% Muslim. In 2012 I noted it was the most liberal Arab country I had visited at the time. There I had opportunity to view a Muslim cemetery up close. Burials are generally made within a day of death, avoiding the embalming process that interferes with the body. While all mourners attend the funeral prayers led by an imam, only men accompany the body to actual burial in the cemetery. The deceased are buried on their right side facing Mecca. In general, elaborate grave markers and flowers are not encouraged; prayers are preferred as memorials.




The town of Hammamet is about 60km southeast of the capital, Tunis; a place of lovely beaches for holidayers. Apart from seaside attractions, it has a fascinating medina (old town) dating from the 15th century. After climbing one of the protective walls to enter (on a ramp), one meets a maze of narrow streets zigzagging throughout, bursting into colourful small piazzas of shops and vendors. Photographers’ delight!

A cemetery is located outside the walls along the Mediterranean seafront. Many tombs have traditional mosaic decoration. Here, the customary marker is the representation of a book: the left hand page identifies the individual with name and dates; the right hand side has a quotation from the Koran. Grounds maintenance does not seem to be a priority. We saw litter dumped in one section. A small Christian cemetery is nearby with many Catholics of Italian origin.


Some years ago, preparation for new construction in Hammamet unearthed an extensive Roman necropolis among remnants of the ancient settlement known as Pupput. We did not see that particular area, but signs of the old Roman occupation are everywhere across the country. Many museums exhibit excavated burial markers – stelae – and funerary objects, some as old as the 1st century AD. Most stelae commend the departed to the pagan household gods (dis manibus sacrum – DSM). They usually give the person's name, age, parents, status, and name of the person who erected the stone. Date of death does not seem to be the norm! That the inscriptions have survived so long is likely due to being covered by soil as new communities developed on top of them – inadvertent conservation.

Two photos above at Sousse Museum
Even older! Near the ruins of Carthage, that legendary city ultimately defeated and ruined by the Romans, parts of the excavated Tophet cemetery show stelae from the time of Carthage’s great power BCE. These were all child burials; the indicative geometric sign appears often. I diligently took many photographs, only to learn later my new SIM card was corrupted. The two photos below are thanks to Atlas Obscura and the individual photographers who shared.

by Patrick Giraud
by Dennis Jarvis
Tophet has long been a locus of serious controversy; scholarly and scientific researchers debate whether it was a place of infant sacrifice. My discovery of a blog called Bones Don’t Lie was serendipitous; here’s a great discussion:


The city of Kairouan ‒ inland but still considered coastal region – with its Great Mosque is Tunisia's spiritual centre. In fact, the Great Mosque there is the holiest Muslim site in Africa; the original portion is from the 9th century. Overall it is the fourth holiest site for (Sunni) Islam after Mecca, Medina, and Jerusalem.

In the courtyard

Outside the walls of the medina can be seen (with the mosque's minaret in the background) the small old Ouled Farhane burial ground named for the tribe that had once requested this location close to the mosque. I can’t ascertain when the burials began or the age of the stones. All inscriptions have long vanished over time and whitewash is the only memorable feature.


And then to modern times. A visit to the small town of Monastir included the mausoleum of Habib Bourguiba (1903-2000), the enlightened and revered father of modern Tunisia. He became the first president at the time of independence in 1956. Among other reforms such as banning the burkha and niquab, Bourguiba instituted universal health care and compulsory education up to full high school level. A processional avenue leads up to his grandiose monument with its golden dome, within the town's extensive el-Mazeri cemetery.

The interior has private rooms for family visitors and a public room serving as a small museum of Bourguiba’s life. Separate rooms have comparatively plain burial slabs for members of his and his second wife's extended families.


Thus, the deceased provide quite the contrast in time periods, cultures, even empires, in one rather small country.


© 2020 Brenda Dougall Merriman

17 June 2015

Hammamet, Tunisia 2012

In a beautiful Mediterranean resort outside the town of Hammamet, fellow travellers were reporting that camels were on the beach every day and where was I? the only committed camel-phile in our little group.

Where I was most of the time, was wandering with travel buddy in Hammamet's old medina, the magnetic focal point in this location. The adjacent cemetery also required lengthy browsing. It was good to start our explorations early morning along with the residents, enjoying countless cups of excellent coffee at every opportunity. Thus plenty of attractions kept me away from the beach.

 

The very first day travel buddy had an experience that by rights was mine ... as I slumbered obliviously from jet lag under a distant nook of palms. Strolling on the beach, waiting for an optimal photographic shot of the sunset, what to her wondering eyes should appear but the likes of a desert sheik or prince astride his camel. He beckoned. She went. Insisted she sit on the camel so he could photograph her. Have a ride, no charge. She urged, come back for my friend tomorrow.

Whenever I had time to reach the beach, no camel in sight. No sign of the prince. Unseen forces were obviously working against me. Fate did not kick in until our last day.

Off we went that morning to visit a rather un-promoted but splendid 1920s seaside villa of classic minimalist design — “close to architectural perfection” — a comment attributed to Frank Lloyd Wright. Absolutely; Dar Sebastian is a gem, built by a wealthy Romanian who migrated to Tunisia. He is credited with putting Hammamet on the map for the rich and famous in the post-First World War period. Many European artistic worthies visited Dar Sebastian such as Cocteau, Gide, Klee, Sitwell, and so on. What jolly times the guests must have had in the Roman-inspired communal bath! One also boggles at the juxtaposition of Rommel, having commandeered the villa for his Tunisian campaign headquarters, and Churchill (later, obviously) spending time here to write his memoirs.

From the height of the villa overlooking the sea, our plan was to walk back along the beach to our hotel for lunch. Said plan fell short in finding actual access to the beach because the villa and gardens are securely fenced. Some walking time in the town outskirts was involved and some discussion of whether a coffee in yet another sidewalk café full of vaguely disapproving men would reduce our creeping hunger pangs. However, a passing man on a bicycle genially led us to the public access path. More discussion dillying over appropriate baksheesh for his assistance and who had the appropriate coins. But finally, there was the beach and the distant prospect of our hotel. Somewhat more distant than we expected.

Then like a genie out of a bottle, a camel and his handler popped up before us on the shoreline. As I was about to embrace this opportunity, travel buddy said No, Wait! She spotted another. Her very prince leading his recommended camel. She and he ~ Felipe ~ fell into excited dialogue like old friends (90% incomprehensible on both sides). Travel bud herself had had enough of camels, rejecting the first offer. Among the three of us and one camel, we negotiated a fair price for “voilĂ  hotel ... oui ... montez ... d’accord ... .” 

My first camel ride on a beach was just as perfect as I could wish — bare feet, a quietly lapping sea, and the wonderful air in that part of the world giving a clearer, cleaner hue to all around me. To my immense satisfaction, it took a long time to reach our hotel front. The downside was travel buddy staggering along the entire way through the sand. That’s a kind of brand loyalty. And friendship. Her camera always ready, I treasure her photos.

© 2015 Brenda Dougall Merriman