One More Tunisia Anecdote

Night has fallen, and I waiting for the tram from Carthage (yes, that Carthage) to Tunis.  The platform is run down:  some graffiti, a few benches, not much else.  An old Tunisian man is standing next to me.

The tram pulls up and the doors open.  No one gets out.  The tram is packed with men -- some in business suits, some in leather jackets.  Everyone's eyes, it seems, are trained on us.  And nobody looks very friendly.

Both of us hesitate for just a moment at the open doors, and you could hear a pin drop.

Then, the man next to me says Asalaam 'Alaykum, and the entire tram responds in unison:  "Salaam."  We hop in, feeling very much at home.