The beat of their hammers is in counterpoint to the sound of the pipes. The smell of welding blends with that of the narghile. Because we are more bored in Tripoli than in other cities, old memories are stirred up. Open wounds in the psyche heal as if by magic. I have come to the conclusion that a session with the narghile is as good as a trip to the therapist.
Foreigners constitute half of Libya s working population.
These unmarried young men do the work that Libyans do not want to do. Their situation is precarious. They sleep on mattresses under lean-tos in hotel reception rooms or live together in poky, squalid lodgings. But their joie de vivre helps them overcome their difficult existence. We drink strong red tea and laugh together.