2 Weeks in Africa: The Bardo Museum with the BonFils

When I lived in Tunisia back in 2010, I lived in Bardo.  It felt like all my life centered around that small little corner of Tunis.  My apartment, my school, my grocery store, and my friends' houses were all there.  However, the Bardo Museum was going through renovations at the time, and so I didn't get to go to it while there.  When I went back to Tunis in 2013, we tried to go to the museum, but something kept us from it, and I thought, "I'll go next time."  I fully planned on going to it on this trip.

The January terrorist attack in Paris struck a nerve with me, because it was against my beloved France.  The Bardo terrorist attack struck yet another nerve, because it was against my beloved people and in my old neighborhood.  The terrorists fired at the tourism industry, but I wasn't going to allow fear to hold me back from touring the country I loved.  And so yes, I went to the Bardo Museum.  I went back and forth between fully enjoying it the way I would any other museum, and feeling somber over what had happened there just a few weeks earlier.  

Since the terrorists would love to rob all the attention from the beauty of the museum, I'm not going to give another moment of this post to them, and just show how gorgeous this amazing place is.  Without further adieu: The Bardo Museum.  {Brace yourselves for beaucoup de photos.}

Just when I thought I'd taken a photo of every single door in Tunis, I found this one.

One of the difficult things about the Louvre, (no, I'm not confused about where I was or which museum I was in), is that it's soooooo big it's easy to get lost and turned around and to figure out how to get to where you want to go.  But at least they give you a map in the Louvre.  In the Bardo Museum, there are rooms off of rooms and halls off of rooms and doors and halls and stairs and rooms and I'm not sure that I ever saw the whole place.  It all began in this awesome hallway, but from there, I don't know where I went.

In all fairness to the Bardo, I could have taken time to read some of the panels.  I normally would in a museum.  But I'd just been reunited with the BonFils and I wanted to hear all about his new life in Tunisia.  And so we walked and talked and laughed and looked at the mosaics but we didn't stop to read any signs.  So I really can't tell you any factual information about the Bardo except that it's the largest collection of mosaics in the world.

It has old statues.  Some of which were so old they had to lie down, rest their heads on a pillow, and take a nap for a spell.

Unlike in the Louvre (or any other museum I've ever been to), one can walk up and touch the millennia old statues.  Or, be slightly creepy middle-aged women, and run your hands all over the rock-hard abs of the statues.  BonFils commented that if he did to a female statue what these women were doing to a male statue, everyone would think he was a perv.  But instead we laughed.

So like I said, there were mosaics, lots of mosaics.  On the floors and on the walls.

I think this was a baptistry, a rather small one.

I've always loved mosaics, so it was hard to not take a picture of every single one.  For as many pictures as are in this post, you might think I did take a picture of every.single.one.  I didn't, promise.

Years ago, I had a friend who is a fellow quilter, and she talked about how she could see quilt designs in the Arab mosaics.  On this trip, I totally understood.  Look at this tile and then...

...look at this quilt square I made last year.  Awesome, huh?

Back to the mosaics.  Imagine how hard it would be to put together an image of a person or a boat or a landscape or whatever using the tiniest little pieces of stone.  I already find it hard with fabric, I can't imagine with a piece of material that I can't bend or pull or easily make curve the direction I want it to.

This is a famous baptistry.

This is the BonFils purposely photobombing the famous baptistry with his arm.

This is some old Hebrew scroll.  I could make something up and tell you it's the Qumran Isaiah Scroll on loan from the Shrine of the Book, and the reason I didn't get to see the real thing while in J-town is because it's on display here instead.  Would you believe me if I told you that?

Let's pretend!  It's the Isaiah scroll!  I finally got to see the real thing!  Why a Muslim country would be displaying the Isaiah scroll is beyond me, but I learned a long time to go stop asking why countries do things that make no sense to this American expat girl.

Wait.  That's not Hebrew.  While I recognize some arabic letters in there (shin and wow and that's about it), I couldn't tell you at all what this is.  A stone column with some really hard to read arabic letters carved into it.

Something I loved about the Bardo museum is that you could look down at the floors and see artwork, look on the walls and see artwork and look up at the ceilings and see artwork.  So lovely.

I really appreciated this room because it makes my whole life make sense.  Nearly five years ago, I wrote about how God used Arab tiles to clarify some steps in my life journey.  For whatever reason, I didn't include photos in that post.  I should have.  Anyway, these are the kinds of tiles that in my mind, connect Portugal and Tunisia.

One day, when I have time {read: never}, I'll scan some old Portugal photos and put them side by side with these, so you'll see.

God knew what He was doing when He sent me to Portugal and had me fall in love with all the leftover Moorish {arab} culture things there.

Moving on to another room...more Roman mosaics.

This was about three floors high.  Wowzah.

Whole rooms just filled with mosaics.  Crazy.

I couldn't believe they let us just walk on them.  I couldn't believe how much color they still have after 2000 years.  Can you imagine how beautiful the Roman world must have been in it's day?

I thought this one was particularly beautiful.  It looks like the center of a tree, or marble.  All made with the tiniest stones!

Then we came into my favorite room.  The ceiling alone was amazing.

On to another room...

And another room with an intricate ceiling.

Look at that gaudy chandelier trying to steal the glory of that ceiling.  Goodness.

This guy knew what none of us did: We ought to have taken our shoes off to protect the mosaics.

Another quilt moment.  This one looks just like the Bargello pattern.

My square wasn't big enough to fully see the pattern, but I promise, it's the same!

There were several gorgeous windows in the museum.

And gorgeous views from the windows.  Seriously, such a beautiful building!!!

At the front entrance, they've put up a mosaic memorandum for the victims of the attack.  It's a much lovelier way to show respect for those who died than the bullet holes that haven't been repaired yet that we saw throughout the museum.  I hate that something so terrible happened in such a lovely place.  Scratch that.  I hate that something so terrible happened period.

I hope that the attack will not stop future tourists from going to the Bardo Museum.  It didn't stop me, and I'm so glad I went.  I would go again...so that I could read the panels and know more about what I saw.

But the BonFils and I only had that one day together, and we didn't want to spend it reading the signs in the museum.  So maybe on my next trip to Tunisia (you know I'll be back), I'll go to the Bardo Museum again.  It is sort of like the Louvre: you can't do it justice in one trip.  Maybe by the time I go next time, they'll have maps...