“This can’t be the same thing as two years ago,” a Tunisian journalist told me as we waited for her mother to cook us dinner.

This journalist, Nadya, was a beautiful blonde woman who ran a radio program in Hammamet; we met one day as I was taking pictures of a protest and she approached me to tell me that it was dangerous.

“I know,” I said fancifully, “I like it that way.”

“Great!” she replied with just as much excitement, “Because later tonight there is going to be a van full of militia coming this way hired by the Ennahda party supporters, and it should get pretty heavy here!” 

So that was how I came across Nadya, and it was through both her and Adnen that the story of the Tunisian revolution manifested, showcasing what life for Tunisians really meant amidst a suffering much different than the woes represented by political economic debridement.

“This can’t be the same thing as two years ago,” Nadya continued with a breadth of ferocity, “because two years ago, the Tunisian people were united.”