Guess where I am?

No, I’m not yet in Casablanca, this picture was taken during Casablanca’s book fair 2010. I’m now leaving from Paris, tomorrow I’ll try to post the same photo two months later.

A nous deux maintenant !

I was convinced that Soul Ukaz would be a once in a lifetime experience. Indeed, it is. Like those people saying they saw the Halley’s comet, we all will be proud to be witnesses of the volcano’s cloud ash. Sure our grand-children will hate us when we tell them this incredible story for the 100th time in front of the chimney. I foresaw my future last night:
– I was traveling during Eyjafjallajokull’s eruption.
– What?
– Eyjafjallajokull’s eruption.
– What?
– Eyjafjallajokull’s eruption.
– What ?

Like “Groundhog day” directed Harold Ramis, it will be a never ending story because a never ending name.

This funny story of volcano learnt me about French History. Did you know that French revolution was partly due to Laki, another Icelandic volcano? It erupted in 1783, causing a series of bad crops. Peasants got starved and then, the revolution. Iceland responsibility remains unclear about the assassination of President Kennedy but I strongly suggest a federal investigation.

This adventure also learnt me about the difference between an American and a French. For me, a human being capable of flying from the US to Germany to the US to Jordan to finally rally Israel looks more like Superman than a true human being. Americans are people in action and guess what? It works! We French are old inhabitants of an old country of an old continent. We were taught from Jean de La Fontaine’s fable “Le lièvre et la tortue” (the hare and the tortoise) that “rien ne sert de courir, il faut partir à point” (approximatively “it doesn’t worth running, one must start on time”). So we take our time. And guess what? I’m still in France. I understand why lucky Americans have Obama while we have Sarkozy. Plus, I am from an Algerian heritage. People wanting a visa for Algiers know what it means. When an Algerian starts saying “there is no problem”, you’re in trouble. Algerians laugh at the homophony between “sans problème” (no problem) and “cent problèmes” (a hundred problems).

Today, I decided to explore my American side and took my ticket to Marseille. There, will happen what will happen. In Iowa City, I felt as a Hawkeye, the football team remained undefeated till I left. Like Rastignac defying Paris in “Le Père Goriot” of Honoré de Balzac, I cry to Casablanca:”A nous deux maintenant!

Discovering Jerusalem : a journey to the center of Little France

In his book “Nadja”, French surrealist writer André Breton wrote “a woman is a woman is a woman”. It took me a long time to understand that weird double identity but today, I catch it all. Jerusalem is not Jerusalem is not Jerusalem. My first impression is odd. I wouldn’t expect to go to a supposed-to-be non-francophone country where everybody actually speaks French. Every guy in every corner of every street of the city speaks my language. I was told about American imperialism but forget about that, France, the country of Charlemagne, Napoléon, Sarkozy (one intruder is in the list, guess who?) is the only vivid empire. We are waiting for Natacha, Christophe and Hugues to join us. Sorry Kelly, as I can’t find any French name corresponding to yours, you may not be allowed to cross the borders. Even most surprising is the subtlety of the language, a kind of mix between academic tongue and slang. I can hear some “Yo” or “Wazaaa”, a kind of English reminiscence. I’m happy to hear  exotic languages from time to time, small countries must keep their identities alive. The ugly towers hiding the sky are as grey as these of my neighborhood. Even strikes remind me my so dear country. I didn’t miss them. The famous “baguette” is as good as ours. It changes from American bagel which is not my best memory of iowa City. I still wonder how a civilization – even a small-size one – was able to invent bagels.

My rationalistic mind, heritage of René Descartes and the spirits of “Lumières”, hesitates between skepticism and solipsism: Am I really in Jerusalem?  If not, that would mean an Icelandic volcano is spreading an ash cloud all over Europe. Impossible, uh?