Sunday, September 14.
All day and all night in that house. El Mahboul took the opportunity and shaved me. Up to then I had simply
kept my hair
hidden. I was free in the little room. El Mahboul and the others, at a loose end, looked through our packets,
and,
opening them, asked me for explanations. It was really odd to see me going backwards and forwards, or sitting
down with
the Berber manual, or some other compromising article in my hand. We could hear the voices of the owner, or
his
children, and people walking overhead. But, in feminine attire I felt reasonably confident, even out of doors;
free, out
of danger, although I was anxious to be crossing the Sahara, on the back of a camel, with my face uncovered,
head and
chest bare…. Under my wraps it is possible to hide pencil and note-book, to make one's toilet.
— Michel Vieuchange, Smara, the Forbidden
City
(E.P. Dutton, 1932)
digestion/cannibalism
