|
Jane Wolfe Diary Entry Monday, 21 June - Thursday, 22 July 1920
as narrated by
Jane sailed from Marseille for Algiers and from there she went very early in the morning by lorry to Bou Saada.
It amused her to see an interesting fight take place in the lorry between a Frenchman and an Arab—both officers in the Army. They made a rousing ruckus and racket but never once did either hit or touch the other. She mused on American fights, whereby the contestants used fists and feet as often as not. But these scrappers in Algeria seemed to obey the law against this. They might scream, call each other "cabbages" or "cemetery flowers" or any words they saw fit to use, but never hit each other with fists, feet or any other article. She noticed that there seemed to be no malice afterwards. However, it came to her as a whip across her shoulders that there was cast and the Frenchman triumphed because of this.
The trip into the Atlas mountains fascinated her, reminding her of scenery closely akin to that to be found in Bible stories of Palestine. As the lorry progressed, it picked up passengers along the way. She noticed men were cutting the 'corn' in dry fields with small hand sickles. Horses were trampling out the grain; the sheep had colored tufts on their rumps to indicate the owner; there were camels, their drivers and their womenfolk in a profuse array of color and movement, especially in Bou Saada.
As they drew near Bou Saada she became uneasy and apprehensive;—if Crowley should come? if he shouldn't come? She became so nervous over this that she found it a relief when he didn't appear. She went to the hotel, chose a room, dined and spent the evening walking along the gallery, watching the full moon over this high Oasis with its small but adequate stream. At the proper time the muezzin could be heard calling the faithful to prayer. Later the desert flutes thrilled from various sections of the town. How stimulating, how stirring, she found this foreign experience!
Shortly the hotel closed for the season and she was sent with a guide to a Mr. Baldwin to find other arrangements. She was ushered into a room in the Arab section which contained a white iron bed and a sand floor. A blond, somewhat curly haired Englishman awaited her. He had an odd mannerism of turning up his fingernails and pausing to look at them before speaking.
He spoke French and told her about the hotel closing for the season and suggested that she go to "The Oasis" where he took his meals; remarking that she could improve her French this way and help the French son of the proprietor to improve his English.
The upshot of this was that she sat at the same table with Mr. Baldwin for her meals, listening to his interesting tales of the army. The tales fascinated her - here was a world she had never contacted. On the eve of his departure they shared a bottle of champagne. It was not until she reached London several years later that she discovered Mr. Baldwin was the son of the then Premier Baldwin and had been in Algeria preparing for the life of a diplomat.
She took walks with the young man who wished to improve his English. They strolled throughout Bou Saada. Two walks she would never forget.
One evening they sat at a small table in the moonlight, under a few scattered trees. Across the roadway all was in darkness except for the light from an open doorway from whence came the odor of the delicious coffee of Algeria. Seated in the middle of the street was a troubadour, chanting his roundelays while twirling a tambourine.
On another walk they passed a bordello one afternoon. The women were seated in a cluster under a large elm. One woman among them sat like a duchess, dignified, looking Jane over from head to foot. Jane admired her assurance and pride and felt she ought to hail her—but desisted.
She admired greatly how the delicious coffee was made. It was brewed in hot ashes as the customer watched. First, with great art, the coffee was placed in the bottom of the container and then sugar was laid upon it to hold down the fine powder. It was subjected to the heat and then the long handled brass cup was pulled from the fire at the exact moment when it had ballooned and the whole was poured into the customer's cup. She often thought of this coffee in later life and often wished she could have some of it again. She watched very often how the men and horses of the French constabulary were drilled. As she watched the horsemanship, she thought of the American cowboy riders, who seemed to her to be just as skillful. They too, could pick up things from the ground with their teeth while the horses were galloping. However, the very brilliant colouring of the burnooses, the wind-blown capes of red, blues, blacks lined with red, flashing swords, the bugles and all the panoply of the army she felt could not be excelled anywhere.
One morning she was awakened by an unusual sound. It vas market day in Bou Saada and there was much bawling of animals and the chatter of men. She looked out the window and saw the animals of that section clustered together for the particular market of their destination. There were piles of dates and fruits loaded with flies; and piles of small crooked nails. How could these be used? She wondered that they were salable. Small children milled about with eyelids also loaded with flies; some had a lost eye from the stones that often flew through the air because of the milling throngs of horses and people, or perhaps they had a dread eye disease.
She noticed the use of the stream that flowed through the oasis. In it men and women bathed and washed their clothes, the men in one section, the women in another. To wash the clothes, a small hollow held the garment while the feet of the washer churned the fabric about. One foot turned the garment about and the other stirred up some of the fine earth so that this was worked through the cloth. The garment was then rinsed and hung on the bushes to dry. This time of washing led to great sociability and time with friends, to laughter and argument.
She saw Arab women in the streets wearing a full, loose garment that carried the dust with them. There was one hole in the robe from which to see. She contrasted this with Tunisian women who permitted themselves to be seen.
One day a lad of 8 or 10 swept up the street in his one garment, a flowing and much mended shirt of fine muslin, too large for his size, and obviously bestowed upon him. It had no buttons to close it but she thought, "His Lordship did not carry himself with greater poise."
One fine night she had a chance to witness a funeral cortege. The body was swathed tightly in muslins or linen and was lying on the shoulders of compatriots. "The dead are always with us", she mused as she admired the simplicity and dignity of the people.
She had, meanwhile, written to Crowley in Palermo but got a very strange response via telegram. It said "Comme cefalu" and the French could not decipher these words and could not answer her questions. (Comme—in French is translated; as, how, like). Jane was greatly puzzled and scarcely knew what to do.
But the day after she had witnessed the funeral, the Pathe Motion Picture Company of Italy arrived in Bou Saada. Jane enjoyed mingling with them and hearing the "Attention!" of the director. How it seemed familiar, how it spoke of home and her former occupation. She took up the matter ; of the telegram with one of the actors. "Why," he said, "It is English. It says Come Cefalu" and he told her, where Cefalu was.
The next day she left Bou Saada for Algiers and took the train for Constantine, where she spent the night.
The next morning she started for Tunis. A merchant from Calcutta offered his services as the passengers lined up for tickets and reservations and he saw her through the rigmarole in a splendid fashion. There was no vestibule car and only one diner and in order to dine, the train stopped and the passengers got out and walked to' .the diner. After the meal they paraded back to their seats in another car and the train started up once more. In Tunis the merchant saw her settled for the night in the hotel and invited her for breakfast the next day. After this, they strolled-through the market and Jane noticed a magnificent nomad and her man. She carried herself with swinging hips, flashing eyes and looked as though a dagger could be drawn at any moment. Jane always admired splendour and pride as there was plenty of these two characteristics in herself.
Leaving Tunis for Sicily was a nightmare. The ship went onto a sandbar and stuck there until the tide released it. She, as the American, was given a room to herself, and it faced towards the stern and was opposite to the men's room. It was a hot night and the winches screamed, there was a great handling of irons and a lifting and stowing away of all sorts of things. The noise from the men's toilets was very disturbing, a banging of doors and heavy feet and voices and boisterous laughter. Oh, how she thought she could have been comfortable in a side room!
During the day she noticed how Italians ate at table. First a big plate of spaghetti, then the entree, a dish piled with meat. Other items followed; how could they eat so much?
The second night she again could not sleep. The noise and the nervousness at the prospect of meeting Crowley were too much for her. Because of the accident of being stuck on the sandbar, the trip had taken two nights instead of one. Two nights which lowered her spirits and her resistance.
|