Café el Mawaddah

It's Monday and we're going to spend some time in Park Sidi Bou Said, one of two large parks in La Marsa, where we live. Nine out of ten times, when I ask Rihanna Gaga what she wants to do on Saturday and Monday - the two days per week that I care for her and on which she doesn't go to daycare - she will answer that she wants to go to the ducks. With 'the ducks' she means a large group of the fattest and poshest ducks I've ever seen, who swim in the lake around which the terraces of café La Tournelle are located and who, I imagine, live on a diet of pancakes and french fries that children throw at them when their parents are not looking. In any case, they're not interested when you throw normal bread at them. We will often sit down at the terrace at La Tournelle, eat a sandwich or pancake, drink some orange juice and check out the ducks and geese that either swim in the lake or walk around among the tables and chairs, ignoring the swarms of cats that also gather at the lakeside café. After that, we will go to a playground nearby, where Rihanna Gaga can spend some of her energy.

Today, however, we're taking a detour. From our house we walk to a nearby sports stadium, a rather rundown affair on the main road to La Marsa that once must have looked quite grandiose. It's a short walk from where we live now - we just moved house last month. We never felt quite at home in our former house, ever since in the very beginning, when we just moved in there, we had a series of nasty arguments with the landlady. She had promised to take out some furniture from the appartment, which she seemed to use as a storage room for all the furniture she herself didn't need but couldn't bring herself to get rid of - leaving us with, for instance, four refridgerators, three beds, two large coaches, a series of small tables, and so on. However, when we moved in the furniture was still there and this never changed. Other arguments included unclarity about who paid which bills, and threats to close down the internet. After everything got sorted out - which basically happened by us accepting that she would never fulfill any of the promises she made before we moved in - we lived without ever really having any contact with her apart from our monthly visits to her house to pay the rent. It also meant, however, that we never quite got to like what was otherwise a fine appartment.
So when an appartment just ten minutes walking away from where we lived, still within easy distance of the sea, in a nicer part of La Marsa, significantly cheaper, much nicer looking, and with an extra bedroom came our way, we didn't have to think long. It was a great decision. The new landlady was friendly, considerate and business like and even though our old landlady came up with all kinds of crazy claims that came down to us having to pay large amounts of money to her - which we, of course, are not going to do since all of her claims concern problems that were already there when we moved in - living where we live now is an incredible relief. The neighbourhood is much more Tunisian, an interesting mix of poor quarters and expensive villas with small shops for groceries everywhere. The people are much more friendly than in the posh résidence where we used to live and I thoroughly enjoy walking through the lively streets when I bring Rihanna Gaga to her crèche, walk to the station where I catch my louage (a little van that can seat eight people and that leaves for the centre of Tunis whenever it is full, stopping close to the area where my university is located as well), or go to the market to do some shopping. 

Opposite the sports stadium is a famous bakery, called Patisserie des Delices, which also has a café part called El Mawaddah. The idea is that one can eat the sweeteries of the patisserie on the cafés terrace, while sipping a coffee or tea from the café. The café, however, also offers sandwiches and neither I nor my girlfriend - who has joined Rihanna Gaga and me for our brunch today - are much in the mood for the incredibly sweet 'delices' served by the bakery. So we order a sandwich instead, my girlfriend a tuna sandwich and I a 'sandwich jambon' - the jambon not being ham, of course, but slices of chicken. The sandwiches are simple, in contrast to the often elaborate affairs you normally get in Tunisia, especially in the roadside stalls that can be found almost everywhere and that pile your sandwich with more vegetables, pastes and other stuffing than an average pizza has. The bread, however, is very tasty whole wheat bread - a rarity in Tunisia, that mostly has French baguette type of breads or Arab flat pancake-bread.

The terrace is quite pleasant, which is surprising since it is located at the intersection of two very busy roads. But with trees and fences, the owners of the café have managed to create a secluded space. Luckily, it is warm enough to sit outside, because inside people are smoking, like they usually are in Tunisian cafés. 

Rihanna Gaga runs around on the terrace. She's enjoying herself, knowing that we'll go to the ducks and the playground soon. As usual, she has to actively avoid men who try to kiss her or touch her cheek, but she does so with a good humoured shrug rather than the snarling she sometimes does. Her behaviour sometimes bemuses Tunisians, who are used to more docile children. I have noticed that if people ask if they can kiss her - rather than just attacking her with a kiss - they will ask me and be quite surprised if I tell them: "I don't know, you'd have to ask her." The idea that a child of her age can decide for herself seems quite surprising to them and when they ask her, the answer is almost invariably 'no'. Rihanna Gaga knows what she wants - and, in typical toddler style, she knows even better what she does not want.