Tunis International Feminist Art Festival || Chouftouhonna 3rd Edition

It all started with me avoiding the real world and ended up by me wishing it would last a lifetime. To say that Chouftouhonna was a turning point in my life would be a major understatement. I reached the twenties milestone last May and I was hit by a growing realization that I needed to get my shit together, because no one deserves to have a midlife crisis at the age of twenty. For someone whose head is flooded with countless ambitions, I had to put an end to my procrastination. The problem was that I had no idea where to begin. Then I found the light at the end of the tunnel. Chouftouhonna was exactly what I needed. I saw the chance and I took it.

Let's start from the beginning. For a young feminist, not hearing about this particular Festival is a bit hard to swallow. I wanted to go last year but the odds were against me, and I was determined to attend the 3rd edition but with time, I forgot all about it. Until one day, as I was aimlessly scrolling down Instagram, I spotted the announcement poster of Chouftouhonna. After a thorough examination of all given details and a lot of self-convincing, as well as a ton of internal pep talk, I gathered enough courage to apply as a volunteer. Then my good friend Dilemma decided to bitch-slap me. Let's spill the beans, anyone who knows me personally, knows I have little to no social skills. I had to come up with a fast solution, which is to simply find a plus-one. Confession time: Dear Abeer, I was not thinking about what's best for you, nor the fact that you're a feminist when I let you know about the festival, I just needed a scapegoat. Long story short, my evil master-plan worked. Both our applications got accepted and we became officially part of the Chouftouhonna family.

My initial encounter with the Festival organizers was indescribable. They carried such strength with them, it was infectious. The whole experience was all too overwhelming, and other than the fact that everyone there was so unbelievably friendly, what stood out the most was the considerable amount of diversity gathered in one small location. Later, we all got to know each other better through a game that required high extroversion skills, that yes, I ended up messing immensely. Side note: Thanks to whoever thought that game was a good idea. I'm still haunted by the belief of straight-up rapping my partner's introduction. Awkwardness aside, I felt for the first time ever that I was in my element; which in other words is super feminist, super queer and super badass. And I knew then that I made the right decision to participate in what was bound to be one hell of a thrilling adventure.

Here's an embarrassing story: I had a certain task on the 6th of September, and since there was no specific timetable posted on the staff's group, I decided to improvise and went there around 10am. To my dismay, the door was closed and I was soon informed that no one else came other than a handful of organizers hanging out in the Café facing the theater. Me being me, I decided to wait outside until another volunteer shows up. But the good gentleman who informed me about their whereabouts guided me to the location of their table, and thus I found myself seated between a bunch of strangers that I creepily admired from afar on previous encounters. Now, what would a sane person do in that situation? Certainly attempt to interact and strike new friendships with them, because gosh-fucking-darn-it-they're-the-ultimate-definition-of-squad-goals? That's not what I did. Instead, I said hello to the nearest girl at my right, opened my backpack, picked up The Well Of Loneliness by Radclyffe Hall (a.k.a one of the most popular lesbian novels ever written), and buried my face in it, while being fully aware of my surroundings. Minutes later, the girl at my right, which of course whose name I forgot immediately, patted my shoulder to let me know that the girl at her right wanted to greet me. I knew at that moment that I fucked up at the most basic rule of ordinary human behavior. To quickly remedy myself, I gave her my best awkward, half-grinning, please-put-me-out-of-my-misery, psychotic-like, poor excuse of a lopsided smile. Then turned and faced the rest of the gang in what must've lasted less a second, and said in what I think must've sounded like a Gollum impression: Hi. (Thankfully, I didn't add "My precious"). After that, I got back to reading my book. Because I did enough damage to my image and I had no cells left in my body that were functioning right.

I'm sure if these two gifs had a baby, it would be the closest thing to what happened:

The Festival started on the 7th of September,and it was as if a whole new universe was created. The amount of effort the organizers, volunteers and staff put in order to transform the theater from its previous state to its current one was astounding and words can't do it justice. I won't lie, it was hectic from start to finish, but the payoff was so much worth it. From hanging the paintings, to placing the chairs, decorating the halls, assembling the tables, checking the devices, patching up the lawn, sticking the signs and doing other tasks, I never felt more alive. (Of course if my Scoliosis surgeon finds out I helped with those, all hell will break loose. So let's hope he'll never discover the truth). There was an enormous overflow of energy circulating between the volunteers, and regardless of the different age ranges, backgrounds and expertise, they remained respectful to each other. No member really stuck solely to their appointed tasks, there was a strong sense of oneness between everyone. Witnessing that, as well as being a part of it, was profoundly influential. I'm blessed that I had the chance of working with some wonderful people in Chouftouhonna. (And I finally found someone who agrees that season 7 of Game Of Thrones is absolute shit. Thank you Waad for backing me up.)

The people who came during the four days of the Festival were what dreams are made of. Innuendos aside, I felt like I was surrounded by an ideal entourage. And it was almost too perfect. We were all feminists, we were all dedicated to smashing the patriarchy, we were all interested in what the Festival had to offer, and a good chunk of us was (like my buddy Syrine said the other day): "Over The Rainbow". One can't help but feel a sense of belonging there, whether during a movie projection, a live performance or a gallery exhibition. What I shared with the public was otherworldly, and the beauty of it was not concocted by a conversation that lasted hours, but simply by a glance, a nod or a smile. A mutual understanding between strangers, that's what it was. And for a girl of few words like me, it was the epitome of perfection.

Now let's reverse perspectives. Even with my tight schedule, I did manage to free some time and attended a fair amount of shows. Here's a pointless fact; I'm not a Fine Arts expert. I don't know how to extract all of the elements out of a painting and come up with its meaning, I can't figure out what a director is trying to imply after just one movie screening, I have to be attentive during a reading session in order to come up with my own interpretation, and I need to pay attention to the lyrics and body language during a concert to truly get the artist. To hold a wine glass and attempt to review what was presented in the Festival would make me a huge hypocrite. But at least I can give an honest opinion and say that despite being exhausted most of the time and clueless the rest of it, I had an unthinkable amount of fun. I can't understand everything artsy from the get-go, but I can feel passion. And believe me when I say, every section of the theater was booming with pure passion. All of it was raw, chilling and bewildering. As a feminist, I can't help but be proud of all the women, men and everyone else on the gender spectrum who collectively put all of their efforts and hearts into Chouftouhonna.

After the Festival ended, I went back to the theater for one last time and the energy never left the air. The place was bursting with memories, and each corner told a different story. For example:

• Here, I fucked up that task.
• In this spot, I forgot that the circular object that enables the car to move is called a wheel, and had a mini panic attack in front of a foreign artist.
• There, I thought one of the organizers was Alessia and it turned out: A) She was not Alessia / B) She only speaks in French and I spent three minutes ranting in Tunisian about fucking up yet another task.
• In the exhibition hall, I forgot to take off the duct tape seal from a painting and kept wondering why it won't stick to the wall. (I'll never forget Fouchika's are-you-fucking-kidding-me? look.)

And the list goes on and on, but even though I had countless cringe-worthy moments, in my heart, they shall remain.

Two days ago, we had one final reunion and I was on the verge of tears most of the time. I wanted to stand up and tell everyone how much the organizers changed my life, how much the volunteers showed me the importance of sharing, and how much the Festival meant to me. Every recollection of joy, pain, stress, empowerment, pride and wonder will forever be imprinted on my mind. Was Chouftouhonna a flawless event? Objectively speaking, no. In fact, there were some timing issues and a lot of last-minute preparations. And you know what? Perfection is overrated. Screw perfection. To me, the Festival was flawless. It was my definition of perfection.

Here are my not-so-anonymous messages to the Chouftouhonna organizers:

• Bochra: You're so effortlessly cool, it's mind-bogging. Teach me your ways Senpai! (I know we're not supposed to show favoritism, but you were my favorite).
• Alessia: You are without a doubt one of the funniest and sweetest people I've ever encountered in my whole life. Whenever I'm around you, I want to throw glitter. You're too adorable!
• Dorsaf: So... you're THE Dorsaf? Abeer talks about you all the time, and I secretly ship you two together. (She will kill me if she reads this. Or she'll simply spill one of my Festival secrets.)
• Fouchika: Thank you for tolerating me. By the way, your music taste is really amazing.
• Roua: I hope I didn't let you down with the Cinema task. I really tried my best.
• Amal: It's Noor with Double O. You remind me of a certain teacher, in a good way.
• Sahar: I love your hair! Thanks for escorting me on the third night.
• Aicha: I could be wrong but I think you were the girl at my right, whose name I forgot. Thank you for clearing a spot for me and for showing interest in my book.
• Nidhal: I'm sorry you passed by right when I was in the middle of making a really lame sex joke. Usually my dirty jokes are so much better.
• The rest of the gang: I unfortunately didn't get the chance to know you well but every single one of you holds a very dear spot in my heart. Thank you all.

Thanks to the Chouftouhonna organizers for creating a safe haven for us feminists. Thanks to the volunteers for all of their help. Thanks to the public who came and had fun in spite of the uncontrollable weather, I hope that you went home with a lot of pleasant memories. Thanks to the artists who blessed us with their creations. Thanks to the theater for welcoming us. Thanks to the Jury for their fair choices. I hope Chouftouhonna will allow me to help again next year and I'll do my best to give more and mess up less.

Will I miss those red chairs? No. Will I miss those fucking stairs? No. Will I miss it when people assume I'm a minor? No. Will I miss being treated like a kid sometimes? No. Will I miss having gazillion breakdowns per day? No. Will I miss feeling useless at times there? No. Will I miss getting belittled by others? No.

Will I miss the attendees? Yes. Will I miss every single crew member? Yes. Will I miss the artists? Yes. Will I miss all those unexpected hugs I received? Yes. Will I miss the heartfelt feedback we got from strangers? Yes. Will I miss all the nooks and crannies of the theater? Yes. Will I miss the art galleries, music performances, workshops and shows? Yes. Will I miss my bond with the other volunteers? Yes. Will I miss the amount of effort we put into everything? Yes. Will I miss my newfound family with all my heart, and impatiently count the days till I see them again? Oh Hell Yes.

If you're reading this and remember that we met during the festival, and I showed any semblance of odd behavior, I'm really sorry. If I did any of you wrong, I'm really sorry. If I didn't talk much or mixed up names, I'm really sorry. If I forgot to say hi, I'm really sorry. If I didn't do any of the tasks assigned to me the proper way, I'm really sorry. I know that I kept myself to myself, and that I didn't leave an impressive mark on others. Because of that I missed the opportunity of getting acquainted with a lot of awe-inspiring individuals.

All in all, thank you Chouftouhonna for everything. For every sweet word, genuine action and shared memory. For all of the empowerment, diversity and union. I'm not exaggerating when I say that this experience was life-changing. So long, Oh Mighty Warriors! May we all meet again!

**Noor Ayari**

(For more information, photos and videos, feel free to visit the Chouftouhonna Facebook page~)