In 1960, when I was a teaching assistant
(lecteur) in Tunisia, I bought traditional weavings
in a village near the holy city of Kairouan
(Qayrawan whence we get Caravan)
called Ksar Hellal, to use as curtains.
I have always loved things made by country-folk.
Over the years they suffered damage – e.g. from dogs
and moths, I have just one or two fragments left
that I use as seat- and cushion-covers.
Yesterday I decided to give them their first wash
in sixty-four years. I washed them twice:
the water was black. I rinsed them four times.
The water was nicotine brown. I put them through
a gentle rinse-cycle in my (recently-acquired, second-hand)
washing machine, then two more rinsings
until the water was fairly pale (kept for watering plants).
Here is one piece hanging on my balcony to dry.
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| Clean at last ! |
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