Sylvia's Journal

My army physical therapist was called to go on a trip someplace and so, once again, I skipped my weekly PT session. My PT visits are now so infrequent that I might as well do without them. I have asked my US-based shoulder surgeon to review my Beirut MRI and interpret it, but so far I have not heard a thing and so I muddle along with exercises that may not be the right ones.

It was another beautiful summer day in Kabul. We had breakfast outside and enjoyed watching the roses open up right in front of our eyes. At noon we joined Pia for lunch in the overpriced Lebanese restaurant that was a far cry from our seaside eating experiences in Lebanon: no views (other than barbed wire and blast walls), and no bottle of chilled white wine. The food was good though.

Since the raids on alcohol serving establishments over a week ago it is not so easy to get a glass of something with lunch or dinner. There is no mention anymore of alcohol on the menu, so we asked. Yes, there was wine (red only) and beer and would we mind that it was served in a tea mug? We didn’t but drinking wine that way does take away from the pleasure and I am not sure it is worth the hefty price that alcohol now commands.

We went straight to our Dari classes. They seem to depress Axel these days as he feels he makes little progress and all sorts of unpleasant childhood memories about learning another language are activated. This is too bad as there is no better way to learn Dari than in the circumstances in which we find ourselves – plenty of practice with drivers, cooks, household help and all.

Back home we had a visit from driver Fazle who is also the coach of many of Afghanistan’s soccer teams. A colleague had sent a huge duffel bag full of cleats, shin guards, jerseys, socks, shorts and what not; it is supposed to go to the women’s soccer teams but many of the supplies are rather large for women. He promised he would take everything first to the girls – to take what fits, and only then would he go to the boys. Here, you never know for sure that the girls get served; they are after all second hand citizens. I gave Fazle my camera, saying I expect pictures.