The Art of Accumulation

One of the drawbacks of living in a small country is that certain activities cannot be done if you don’t want the whole town mocking you or, by the ricochet effect, mocking your family. Consequently, one of the few things I can complain about is that I’m not allowed to go junking or foraging for castoff items when I leave the safety of home. When my husband sees me eyeing rocks (for my garden) from the car, he says sternly: “Do NOT go take those rocks from that dump.” Ok, ok. 

Then there’s the shop we drive by regularly that has old doors, windows and wrought iron in all stages of decay—very tempting.

However, the owner will inevitably ask ten times the normal price when he sees my pasty white skin and blue eyes that mark me as a foreigner. Even with bargaining, I would still pay a higher price than a Tunisian. This I know from experience and it’s annoying to be swindled.

     There is a silver lining: Tunisians of my husband’s generation—and older—accumulate. That is, they find it difficult to throw out anything because it might be useful…someday. This character trait probably developed during colonization when the colonized population tended to be poor, and continued after independence because of laws regulating currency and tight restrictions on imports. Thus, one could never count on stores to carry regular stocks, especially of imported items. Tunisian currency simply did not (and does not) carry clout on the international money market. This explains why I have a small collection of useless miscellaneous items that includes old radios, fans, and irons.

      TRUE story: a French woman married to a Tunisian neighbor (for semi-rural zones a neighbor is anyone living within a 2-mile radius) decided it was time to clean out their basement, which she could barely get into because of the boxes of accumulated paraphernalia and odds and ends. While her husband was absent on a business trip for several days (obviously, she knew him well), she hauled the boxes to the closest garbage pick-up site on the main road—and was quite pleased with herself.

         Unfortunately for her, the garbage pick-up is not a daily occurrence.  When her husband drove home, he spied the boxes overflowing with his possessions sitting by the side of the road. He screeched to a stop, loaded up the boxes, and returned home with the whole kit and caboodle. His wife could only laugh. Can a leopard change the color of his spots?

         Although I do not have a basement, the garage (and the house, for that matter) contains an accumulation of "stuff" that would delight anyone who likes to repurpose and recycle. So, taking into consideration the look of pain on my husband’s face every time I have attempted to toss out something, I have adopted a new version of “use it or lose it”: it is simply “use it.” And this forces me to be creative. Examples:

Small, hand-woven wool rugs became pillows when they frayed and wore out.  The table is the sink hole from a bathroom marble counter and the feet are a beat-up stool painted black. The hooked rug belonged to my grandmother. 

I was told that these particular flat weave designs are no longer produced, so I am thankful I didn't toss them--could this accumulation character trait be rubbing off on me?

The patio table (shown in a previous post) is made of an old portable radiator and a house step removed during remodeling. 

The hanging wrought iron pieces with grape leaves are the legs to a small table that fell apart. The legs are attached together with wire. Nests, seashells, and rocks--including foot-shaped rocks that have walked across my path--decorate the table and seem cat-resistant.

         Final thoughts about the art of accumulation: The younger “consumer” generation does not seem to accumulate because laws controlling currency and imports have loosened, allowing a flow of goods into Tunisian markets—to the detriment of the Tunisian economy and to the benefit of corrupt leaders. With the Revolution, Tunisians must face the reality of a faultering economy in which unheard  of shortages now occasionally take place. Items that have always been available in abundance have been disappearing for periods of time from store shelves, such as bottled water, sugar, and pasta. The art of accumulation may take the upper hand again.

Of course, I still have a mountain of “stuff” to work through so I don’t really regret not being able to junk; many a happy hour of creative thinking and play await me. Right now I'm trying to figure out what to do with a bidet removed from the bathroom during remodeling. The makeover could be blog-worthy, so stay tuned...