Café Journal

Past last week's Café Blues House, lies one of the most upscale neighbourhoods of the greater Tunis Area. The villas are big here and the streets are remarkably clean. In this pleasant, hilly and green neighbourhoud, about a twenty minute walk uphill from where we live, lies Café Journal, a fancy tearoom that could have been anywhere in Europe.

We sit down at a small table, next to a couch on which a cat is sleeping, much to the delight of Rihanna Gaga. She tells everyone to be quiet - because the cat is sleeping - but then starts mewing and shouting loudly herself because she can't contain her enthusiasm. She then runs around on the terrace, and I lean back in my chair. I'm tired. My girlfriend is out of town and I am taking care of Rihanna Gaga by myself for five full days. As I've written before on this blog, this is not the first time, but she is definitely more of a handfull as a toddler than she was as a baby. Rihanna Gaga doesn't really play by herself (although she's remarkably good at it today) and sleeps much less than the last time I took care of her by myself for a longer period. On top of that, she's waking up early, so there is little sleep. And them I am having a cold as well. Or whatever it is that I have. It includes a nasty cough, itchy nose and yesterday my bones were aching. I seem to do better today. Rihanna Gaga is also coughing and I guess we just caught a cold. That might sound odd in the heat of the Tunisian summer, but there's the airconditioning and the fact that most airconditioners are not kept clean as diligently as they should be. I probably caught this at the airport where I gave a workshop two weeks ago and my cough plays up everytime I have to spend a few hours in an airconditioned room (such as my new office).

The cat has woken up and walks towards our table, which causes Rihanna Gaga to recoil. She tells me that she's 'bam', by which she means 'bang', the Dutch word for scared. It's a new word she's learned from a Miffy film and she uses it a lot these days, not just for things that really frighten her, but basically for anything that she doesn't like. However, the cat really scares her, as much as she's fascinated by it, so I pick her up and plant her in the broad window-sill behind my chair. From here, she can look down at the cat, and he immediately becomes a source of delight again. She shouts at it, imitates a mewing cat and keeps pointing at it and looking at me.

The cat remains stoic throughout it all, more interested in the food that is being brought to the table. I ordered the 'Hebdo' breakfast, which includes coffee (which turns out to be a bit too cold), viennoiserie, a fried egg with some pieces of French bread and a fruit juice (I picked the peach juice). Rihanna Gaga loves the viennoiserie and drinks a bit of the fruit juice. She spents most of her time, however, running up and down the window-sill and playing with her toys: her mumin doll, a small bear she really likes and her all time favourite, a pink sheep with a music box inside that she can't sleep without and which we used to call the 'sleep sheep' because we always play its music when she goes to bed, but which she herself has recently renamed 'Kom' for reasons only known to her.

I regularly tell her to be a bit more quiet - she understands it when I put a finger to my lips and quiets down for a moment, but then starts screaming again. There is so much to be enthralled by. There's the cat hanging around our table. There are the people waving at her. There is the man at a table next to the window inside who will turn around and smile and wave at her whenever she manages to catch his attention. Nobody seems really disturbed by her, but I do want her to understand that she shouldn't scream so loudly when we're at a place like this and that not everybody is interested in a two year old toddler. (Although the fact is, in Tunisia, that most people are interested in two year old toddlers, especially this particular toddler with her blue eyes and blonde, curly hair. She is still regularly picked up by complete strangers who want to kiss her - apparently, this brings good luck - and she doesn't always like this, often crying which some people completely ignore in their fervour to get their kiss, so we have to watch her closely and sometimes save her from the clutches of these eager kissers.)

After breakfast, it's time to go home again. Rihanna Gaga didn't eat much, so I have to get her her regular lunch at home, and her nappy needs changing too. We pay, Rihanna Gaga waves goodbye to everyone, and we're on our way.