As I walked away from the young man in blue, leaving him standing there, his words echoing in my head, I couldn't shake the feeling that this encounter was far from over. What did he mean by saying he was a member of the army? And what would he do next?"
Seeking a moment of refuge, I entered the mosque, the serene atmosphere contrasting sharply with the turmoil in my mind. As I removed my shoes and stepped inside, little did I know that my earlier encounter was just the beginning of a challenge to everything I thought I knew about danger and escape.
From behind me, the army-man-Smurf-influencer walked in, took his shoes off and walked straight to my back. I pretended not to see him. He walked even closer, one step from me. I could feel his breath in the back of my head. He raised his two arms and, very close to my ears, repeated “Allahu Akbar”, a few times.
Now, I know what that means, and I know we were inside of a mosque. But the fellow reader must understand that the only times a guy like me hears those words are on a video on the internet where you usually have to look away at some point. So my first live, in-person "Allahu Akbar" was an unforgettable experience that made my skin crawl, my spirit leave the body, and my heart race.
I did what anyone in my place would and walked out in absolute fear while pretending everything was fine. My friend in blue didn’t follow me. I guess he couldn’t after he started his prayers. So, in a way, Allah was on my side.
I reunited with Chris and our guide, told them the story, and we got on our way. Before leaving the site, however, I decided to take one last look back into the mosque area. There he was, just walking out, the Blue Army Man. He waved at me from far away, smiling with teeth of revenge.
Shots fired
That takes us back to my last day. After what was a short, but adventurous trip. We had one last morning to relax before flying home, so we decided to take ourselves to the swimming pool to enjoy the African sun and the fresh water. Except for one little thing.
Yes, people were shooting outside. For context, this was just 10 days right after the Hamas attack in Israel. And a Tunisian man had just killed two men in Sweden. Everything was fresh in my head. And now I hear the unmistakable sound of machine guns firing repeatedly outside of the hotel.
I looked at Chris and, as usual, he was in a complete state of unawareness. With his earphones on, drinking a beer, and looking like a perfect terror victim, he asked me what was going on. “People are shooting outside,” I said. He didn’t believe it until he heard it. “Yes, that’s shooting,” he said, finally joining in my state of emergency.
We decided to check with a hotel employee. Maybe they already have an escape plan or something. Before we had the chance to ask, a waitress came out of the restaurant and asked us if we heard some gunshots and if we knew anything about it. “We are doomed,” I thought. If the hotel people don’t know anything about it, we are screwed.
I made a quick executive decision. “I am not dying today.” With that thought, I told Chris we should go back to our rooms and hide there for as long as we can. At this point, prolonging the time between our assassins and us would be our only chance of survival. Chris looked at me, looked at his beer mug still full, looked at the pool, checked his tan, and with some hesitation chose his fate. “I am gonna stay a bit longer,” he said. I guess this was our goodbye.
The barricade
I rushed into my room as fast as I could, the shooting still going on outside. I closed the door to the balcony and started planning some sort of barricade to protect me from the shelling that would certainly start coming through the walls at any point. Our two beds, if turned on their side, would provide some protection, but not much, considering the caliber of the bullets being fired.
As I planned to lie on the bathroom floor, I heard a bang on the door. Someone is knocking, and this could be the last thing I hear. I am silent. As far as I am concerned, I am not there, hoping the terrorists will just move on. But then I heard it. A familiar voice is on the other side. It’s Chris.
I open the door and see my friend in his shorts, wearing his signature linen shirt, very much alive and well. “You forgot your phone,” he said, handing me the device. “By the way, a senior employee of the hotel informed me that there’s a training field for the army nearby and that’s where the firing is coming from,” he told me, not even trying to control the laughter.
I took my phone, finished packing, and left for the airport. It was the end of an incredible trip filled with beauty and danger, most of which was fabricated in my head.
Rodrigo Bressane
Tunis, Tunisia
👉🏻 Follow me on 𝕏 @bressane