Petrol Port

I am staying this week in a not yet finished villa overlooking the port of Bejaia. Everyday I watch the petrol boats come and go. We take showers on the terrace in the middle of the day with water from the citern that heats up in the sun. Madame says "I figure the men on the ships haven't seen a woman in a long time, why not let them look." She knows the movement of every boat moored in the harbor and knows every family that ever set foot in Bejaia. Today we gorged ourselves on sivnge (Kabyle donuts) and homemade prune and apricot jam. This morning I spent picking the leaves of all her dried herbs off the stems and into jars. "Oh how I love when someone offers to help me!" She cried. She makes teas that cure headaches, digestive problems, circulation problems, cramps, stress...teas that are bitter and are to be swallowed cold. 

I am trying to organize village trips for the actresses of the KFP and myself to meet old women who know Kabyle folktales. I've got 3 possible villages lined up.  This is folktale collecting plan B. Plan C is hit the books. Taos Amrouche and Mouloud Mammeri already sort of did the work for us...but one of the goals of this project is to get the younger generation asking folktales of the older generation...

Finally there is a breeze from the sea. 

Photos above are from Mostaganem and the Palais du Bey in Oran.