Lowest researcher approaches me, I can smell his cologne. He told me I was lying and giving me hard in the stomach. I ask if he beats me because I bought a cafe in Benghazi and Tripoli. He stops beating, and I hear belly moves and a soft laugh. A minute later I get slapped. He tells me to take off my clothes, and say now do you Charba, electricity. And I ask if he's serious. What is electricity? How did we get all this place? "
Custard Haddad, artist peaceful Jaffa and chareima, he thought he was going to make easy money and spend underground parties with beautiful bodyguards of Gaddafi when he accepted the invitation of the Organization of Libya to go to photograph synagogues and Jewish cemeteries in ruins. He did not think the trip will be over in 170 days in the cellars of the Libyan dictator's torture, eve of the fall of his regime.
The meeting between Israeli bohemian slightly spoiled for me (precisely loved the Spring Gedj band "Algeria") gave birth to the jail lobby custard Guide, surreal novel that every word was true, hilarious and ridiculously painful. The custard will learn where to get the best Shakshouka Tripoli, how to distinguish blindfolded with a towel between the highest investigator French researcher who are more dangerous, how to make a chess set Mhhmgshiot of the food, and what absolutely must ask jailers Wednesday.
If you're lucky, you climb out at the last minute, with a glass of champagne in hand, his plane, the Austrian billionaire Martin Schlaff