acertainblindness
towards the light
between the first and second police van it is possible to discern a peaceful crowd of protesters. the vans are charging the crowd.
this is difficult to see, though not to imagine.
ghost of memories past | 30th anniversary of the sabra and shatila massacres, shatila palestinian refugee camp
triple layered cake (hotel imprisonment and the acne of civil war)
lebanese mountain confetti
texture of violence | al shifa pharmaceutical factory, khartoum
early artefact from the war on terror.
al shifa pharmaceutical factory, khartoum
destroyed august 20, 1998 by united states cruise missiles. allegedly the site of chemical weapon manufacture.
passerby
tahrir square is a place much smaller than i had imagined.
the protesters, the passersby, the undercover security agents, the homeless, the thugs, drug dealers, revolutionaries, counter-revolutionaries, tea-sellers, flag merchants, newspaper vendors, readers, journalists, photographers, gawkers, hustlers and prostitutes all have their place. neither through agreement nor disagreement - but because of the way the square, in as much as it is a roundabout - is.
the last few weeks, for those more or less residing permanently in the square, has seen a shift inwards. a sense of, well, needing to reinforce before the army, or paid thugs, or counter-revolutionaries, or state security, or riot police arrive. a seige mentality of a most perfectly paranoid state. where every action and non-action is analysed, and always at fever-pitch.
and there, demarcating the pourous boundaries of a protest tent cluster, was a fence of heavy plastic. making him all but a shadow.
onlooker
watching violence in tahrir square
fuck ben ali
i had heard rumours about the existence of a burned villa on the outskirts of hammamet, overlooking the sea. during the revolution the villa was ransacked and today, it sits as a charred shell, filled with shards of bullet proof glass and graffiti. rubbish fills the swimming pool.
we met an elderly neighbour in the grounds of the villa removing some chicken wire.
the gabsi family used to grow vegetables on this land. they grew tomatoes, paprika and jute. i remember the smell of the freshly baked bread they would eat during lunch. bread with grilled paprika. they used animals to draw water from the well.
bourguiba [the first president of tunisia] took the land from the gabsi family. he gave it to the husband of shirley maclean. i forget his name. bourguiba gave it to him because he helped his son. something to do with las vegas. the nefew of ben ali bought the land in 2005 and built the villa.
when the villa was looted, i noticed some plants has been pulled out of the ground.
the plants now grow quietly in his garden, apparently without protest.
