Thursday, March 03, 2005

Nothing Happens, Again

We went to Green Square, but Nothing Was Happening. So we went for a pepsi and hookah pipe at the big café opposite the old cathedral, by the post office. I wondered, when they made the cathedral into a mosque, what did they do with the bells? Did they negotiate with Rome, and have them shipped back to Italy? Or are they still hanging there, neglected, waiting to one day fall on the kneelers below, whilst Our Lord keeps a straight face?

Indeed. My friend Padraig, who’s working in Misratah, has travelled up to Tripoli for the holiday weekend. We’re off to do some exploring today. My camera has been in my drawer, (I thought it was broke – that’s a whole other story), but I’ll dust it off today.

I flicked through the channels last night, and came across the Big Yin, making a speech. Here’s what I noted during the course of a very long 29 minutes last night:

9:34 PM Col Mustard’s making a speech on telly. The people listening in the conference hall look desperately bored. He makes some huge pauses. A number are clearly asleep. There’s many a sidelong glance. I don’t have much Arabic but, earlier, I could tell he said “…America, Britain, France…”, and some people sniggered.
9:39 PM Lawks a mussy! He didn’t get this job with his inspirational rhetoric, I trust.
9:41 PM Some applause.
9:49 PM Brief applause. I should mention, he’s in a black swivel chair, wearing traditional gear: a wee brimless cap with a button on the top, white robes.
9:53 PM I give up, this is better than Nytol – am off to bed.

Maybe it was better for Arabic speakers. Or maybe not.