Libya

October 8–11, 2009

You’re not supposed to toss your unfinished bread on the ground in Libya. You’re supposed to leave it on a windowsill.

Also, everyone drinks bitter soda here. It’s exactly what it sounds like: a bitter-tasting soda with an herbal aroma. Even Fanta makes a bitter soda for the local market. By the way, the can tab is the kind you actually pull out, just like in the old days.

One of the Libyan national traditions is drying carpets on the balcony, using plastic chairs as clothespins to keep them from blowing away.

The number 40 appears everywhere. It’s the 40th anniversary of the Libyan Revolution.

When I was little, adults would tell me about this scary dictator in Libya named Muammar Gaddafi. Once I grew up and came to Libya, it turned out Muammar Gaddafi was still in power.

Gaddafi is everywhere, even on car rear windows (like in Syria).

There are portraits of Gaddafi in every establishment. He looks like a bad provincial actor more than anything else.

Gaddafi is context-sensitive. At a museum, he’s depicted next to works of art.

On street portraits, he’s shaking his own hands.

The country has a food stamp system for staple items: flour, butter, etc. (I didn’t notice any food shortages in the stores). Stamps are issued per family and offer significant savings. With a stamp, a bag of sugar costs 5 dinars, as opposed to 50 without one. That’s why the people really, really love Gaddafi.

Libya has excellent roads. No worse than in the US. The pavement is smooth, there are divided highways, lots of lanes and wide paved shoulders. At the same time, zero consideration is given to foreigners: all the signs are in Arabic only (even though neighboring countries—Tunisia, Algeria, Egypt—have all their signs in both Arabic and Latin script).

On the other hand, there are no Arabic Arabic (i.e. Eastern Arabic) numerals at all in Libya. Only our Arabic numerals. For some reason, this is the system Gaddafi chose to adopt.

Although Eastern Arabic numerals were used here at one point. For instance, they appear in the charming old logo of the Ministry of Communications on the post box.

Instead of having one mail slot on the front, Libyan post boxes have two on the sides.

There’s a huge number of old Toyota FJs here (the Toyota FJ Cruiser—Coucousique—was an homage to this series).

The license plates can be either elongated or compact, like in Mongolia.

Libyan taxis are black with white fenders, while police cars are white with black fenders. The important thing is not to confuse the two.

All the pickup tucks have improvised bars welded on between the cabin and the back. (In neighboring Tunisia, all the pickups have extra-high sides welded on as well.)

Many cars have a strange sticker depicting a traveler with a walking stick and backpack. I wasn’t able to find out what it means.

The double solid line is actually a triple line here.

A digger.

Libya was under Italy’s rule for a long time, so some things still retain an Italian accent. Both the old and new signs are typically Italian.

This was once the Roman Empire. The ruins of Roman cities boggle the imagination due to their intactness and their size. And there’s still plenty more to be unearthed.

Libya could easily employ an army of classical studies specialists.

An ancient Roman bathroom with forty seats. In ancient times, wealthy masters would make their slaves pre-warm the marble seats with their behinds, so that the masters would have a more enjoyable throne-sitting experience.

Antique tile has been sitting out in the open for two thousand years.

Modern technology can’t withstand such wear and tear, even though the climate hasn’t changed since then.

A trash can.

Trash dumpsters. By the way, black people in Libya perform the same work that Tajiks do in Russia.

A fire hydrant.

A pretty Italian-style cast iron column of unknown purpose. Doesn’t seem like it’s a post box.

Electrical boxes. They’re always painted the colors of the Ukrainian flag.

Every building has pumps and water pipes sticking out into the street.

A payphone booth.

In addition to minarets, there are also water towers adorning the city skylines.

The water towers are numerous and all made of reinforced concrete.

The suburbs have smaller towers, the vast majority of which look like concrete wine glasses.

There’s a tradition of leaving bowls or bottles of water on graves.

Pretty light bulbs.

A pretty dump.

You’ve got all of life’s necessities covered here.

Libya leads its own life, closed off from other countries. Nothing threatens the street scribe with his typewriter.

And Barbie can comfortably wear her hijab.