Henna

Black and white pattern sheets that look about the size of A3 paper are everywhere. These are patterns for henna for hands or feet. I photographed some. They stick lightly onto the hand, then henna is smoothed on as a paste. The stencil is lifted away leaving a pattern in lumpy dark brown paste. This is left on until it dries, then any debris is brushed away to leave a crisp pattern which can last seven days if you don't wash too hard. As I photographed them a young woman stopped to tell me that this is a new craze, to use the stencils. "Not as good as the old way, which needed some skill", she said.

Skins

There are far too many skins of rare or endangered animals. Hyenas, leopards, gazelles - I was really horrified by the number of animals who have died to supply some of the shops in the tourist souq. There are points where the bad taste becomes almost laughable. A stuffed leopard in a straw hat was quite distressing.

The Silver Shop

This afternoon Bob and I went into a shop with a lot of older traditional silver in the window. In a shop about the size of a toilet cubicle we spent a fascinating half hour with a lovely gentleman who fondles his pieces as if he cared about them. He pulled out a book on the jewelry of Libya, and would show us a page, then lay his antique pieces onto the page on top of photos of similar pieces. We looked at crescents to decorate heads, and ears, and the sides of scarves.

Fibula

I have always been fascinated by fibula. These always come in pairs, and were worn by Romans to secure their togas. If you have ever lost yours at a toga party you obviously were not wearing a fibula. They usually have a large triangular head, then a long spike below, with a rotating ring attached which can be fed over and under the spike to secure folds of clothing without actually putting the spike through them.
We fell in love with a beautiful piece, obviously a piece de resistance. It was simple, heavy, and a circular head ornament, like a bracelet in form, but triangular in cross section with a smoother centre and heavy decoration on the other two sides. There was a companion piece, much slimmer and simpler, but both with the same hallmark - which according to the book was the jeweler's signature mark. These have become our souvenir of Tripoli.
I am fascinated by the role of souvenirs. To me a purchase made to remind you of a place is so much more than an object. They hold, securely locked within them, a whole swathe of memory. Years later I can pick up my piece of silver and the whole day will roll back, complete with smells, music, people and even the sun on my back in a sun-drenched blue and white souq by the sea in Tripoli.

Presenting Credentials

I was very surprised to be invited to attend the presentation of Bob's credentials. This is an old and very formal ceremony, where his credentials are presented, and his predecessor's recalled. It is unusual to have anyone other than the main players present.
A black car picked us up. Bob was presenting with two other ambassadors - Burundi and Chile. We had chatted to the Chilean as we waited to be collected from the hotel. The cars arrived, black and formal, one for each ambassador. Flags were handed over, ready for the return after the ceremony when flags would be flown on the cars.
We whipped through the city with sirens screaming if traffic dared to pile up in front of us. This is a lovely city, clean and organized with white major buildings with the touches of blue and turquoise which are very typical of North African cities. Date palms surround buildings and rim the sea. It is fertile and surprising green, with the usual Mediterranean crops of oranges, olives, almonds and the less common (in the Mediterranean) dates.
The presentation of credentials is usually done to the Head of State. Bob represents the Queen, through the Governor General. However, in Libya credentials are not received by the Head of State.
Birundi was first and Chile second. We waited in a decorated anteroom, and while the furniture was gilt as in Cairo, it had coloured twirls of flowers in pinks and greens and yellows, and they crept over all the wooden surfaces.
When we were called in the whole process moved like a well-choreographed play. I was shown where to stand, and "our" group was in place in seconds.
Bob stood on one end of a large patterned carpet with an interpreter behind him. Opposite at the far end of the carpet were eight men, a row of three in front, and five behind. All stood at attention while Bob read his speech. It had to be read, as he had submitted it a day beforehand, and it had to be the same. He would read a sentence, and the interpreter would translate.
He then stepped forward and handed over the formal paperwork with the Governor General's seal.
Then the acceptance was read, and we retired to an adjoining area for a little "informal" conversation, under the glare of many cameras.
I am not sure how many women have been privileged to see such a ceremony in this part of the world, and I feel deeply honoured.