I would recommend the book. I would also recommend the ebook reader. The e-ink qualities of the screen is good. With the Summer coming up and a chance to sit in the garden to read, this device will be the only one that gets better the stronger the sun is shining. And for an insular bloke as me, I bet the temptation to buy fresh books online for immediate consumption will be difficult to withstand, especially when you are abel to save some money. The Reader cost me $ 13.25, half the price of a paperback version. (For the paper version the boat ticket to the city will be an added expense.)

Sony has hardwired the device to M$ Windows and their own Sony ebook store. The ebook market is not mature, and there is still a lot of issues with DRM, formats and different business models. Sony is trying to control the distribution channel of ebooks. So is Amazon with their Kindle reader.

I did not buy the Sony PRS-505 only to read novels. I needed to find a way to read my library books, papers and PDFs and hopefully, some of my news feeds. And I am happy to report that this working just fine, providing I apply some tricks to make the works travel. The Sony reader comes with two slots for SC cards, which enables you to load your complete collection of books to the device which has a better battery life that most mobile devices due to the fact that only the page turning consumes power.

If you are a Mac user and want to buy a Sony reader (₤ 194 at LHR), here are some pieces of advice that would save you time:

1. To be able to buy DRM protected ebooks you have to borrow a Windows PC for five minutes as a one time operation. You will use the Adobe Digital Edition to manage your DRM protected books. Registerer for an account. Download the PRS-505 driver to the Windows PC, install the Adobe Digital Edition software and authorize your ebook reader to your AdobeID. Then forget the Windows PC. You can now upload the PDF of the book you bought to your Sony reader using the Finder on your Mac - and you will be able to read it on your device.

Now you can buy ebooks from any source, e.g., www.booksonboard.com or waterstones.com.

2. Travelling as I do, I will not be able to bring my library books with me at all time. Therefore I scan them all to PDF. However, reading books on screen is tiring. And sitting with your laptop on your lap for 15 hours a day kind of fries your lap, if you get the picture. And sitting out in the sun under the North African sun calls for more than one reading device. Therefore the ebook reader.

The problem is that a double page scan does not fit well to the screen of the Reader. You need to slice the pages. It is easy, if you know that tools to use: 1. Make two copies of your book, called l.pdf and r.pdf. Open the l.pdf in Preview, mark the left page, open the Inspector, and crop all pages. Save. Repeat for the right pages. Open the files in pdfsam-1.1.1 and split the document in one file per page, l-1.pdf, l-2.pdf, and r-1.pdf, r-2.pdf, etc. Open all single page files in PdfMergX and merge into one document. Now you have a single page document that reads well on your Sony Reader, especially in horisontal orientation.

3. Use the calibre ebook library manager to manage your books and news feeds. Especially some English newspapers are downloaded nicely in full text via the scrips that comes with the software.

Technorati Tags: ebook

So going native for a non-native, means that you’re not expecting any trouble from people in uniforms. For God sake, you’re one of those that keep Morocco’s most important industry moving – you’re a tourist. And as such untouchable.

So you let down your guard, and don’t expect any trouble – at least not when you are leaving the country. So, when the custom officers stops you and ask if you have any foreign currency on you, you don’t expect to stand face-to-face with a common thief, in uniform. Moroccan custom often asks tourists leaving the country if they are bringing out any money. You are not allowed to bring out Moroccan dirhams, more than you need for the taxi from the airport the next time you visit. However, you are neither allowed to bring out much foreign currencies either, at least not in the excess of 100.000 MAD exchange value. Well, that is a lot of money, lot more than I had in my bag. Well, I thought of buying a carpet, changed my mind, and did forget about the banknotes. Till the uniformed guy started to search through my luggage. I had a bundle of 500s, and had forgot about the three 1000 notes. My eyes followed the searching hand of the officer. At that time the small backup hard disk was more valuable to me than money. Then, the officer’s was eying he inside of my purse again, and found the 1000 notes. What was this? Let me see. All of a sudden the 1000 notes was in the offier’s hands. And the questions continued - what is this pocket? Money here? Or there? More money? The purse in my left, the bundle of 500s in my right. All of a sudden, the uniform retreated to a nearby office “to take a phone”. I had to pack up my luggage. And then, the custom officer shouted passez! Passez! And I just walked towards the passport control, thinking of Moroccan export rules, not thinking of the money the man had kept.

It should not have happened. I am not easily conned. Well, I have had my experience with an illegal money changer in Bulgaria. But that was 30 years ago. So why did not the alarm go off when there was too much confusion over money in the customs control?

I have only one explanation: I had gone colonial native. Safe and at ease in a foreign culture, protected by the power of the light red Norwegian passport. The shame is worse than the loss of the 3000 NOK. I am ashamed of loosing control and the sense of who and where I am. And shame on the thieves in uniform! They are a disgrace to a fine country and all its honest people!

And sometimes the context is quite confusing. Discourse as social action and the language as a toolkit - two headlines from my reader that made me think of my street the other day. Living in an open atrium house in the medina, the street is front stage in you life, either you observe it from the roof of you house, or take in the sounds from the playing kids in the afternoon or the muezzins five times a day. My street is very tidy, swept by broom every afternoon; guarded by a mosque at the entrance and some very old and tall gates that now are impossible to close due to the new paving stones provided by the city council to boost tourism. In my street I usually meet tourist in search of authentic photo opportunities, veiled women, children i school uniforms, youth on motorbikes and one or two lonely beings lying under a blanket.

- Parlez avec moi! Talk to me! I am suddenly approached by a woman just before my house, who wants to be talked to. Of course, well - my French is giving me a headache and will drive me into complete isolation if I do not start picking up more phrases… Talk to me! What a friendly way to start a conversation. I wake up and face the long haired woman that looks me straight in the eyes with an open smile on her face. I am trying to mobilise my French toolkit when the other me asks permission to inform me that this conversation is a little out of bounds, at least in my street. Ok, women show their hair nowadays - but what is spoken is not what is said. That is, what is said is not what the words mean. The speech act of initiating the conversation and looking into the eyes of a European man take precedence over the kind words - talk to me.

The woman sees that there is no hope for conversation and launches plan B: - Give me some money for a taxi.

This a speech act that does not need interpretation. Many times a day I am met with an open hand begging for a “piece”. I do not see these hands any more. Begging is a legitimate activity in these parts of he world, and you soon learn to make the challenge go away by delegating it to some weekly routine, e.g. singing the same tune as the blind beggar who always bursts into laughter when a coin meets his palm.

So I say no without thinking. No money, and good bye. I see only the hood of her black robe as she goes away, and soon she is out of the street and I am back in my house.

After some footing we both were able to make some shared sense of our circumstances. However, the interaction order was a little messy, and the syntax was far from perfect. The exchange had potentials for quite a few felicity conditions. When I came to terms after the short meeting, I felt that I have lost face. Even if I was commanding the illocutionary force of the speech act, I failed to reference the action to the morally sound foundation. I was simply not capable of dealing with all the conflicting information offered me by this breach of demeanour on the door step of my house. So I ran away, loosing face (maybe only to myself).

In my city a taxi seldom costs more than 2 Euro. Would not that amount of money be worth honouring a lady that phrases the non acceptable activity as talk, and asks for money to travel when the offer is declined?

I have to learn to play the language games!