Sylvia's Journal

This morning there were two kinds of Afghans, those with an inked finger and those with a clean one. Those with inked fingers proudly showed them. It was like a badge of honor. The clean-fingered ones were a little embarrassed and gave me all sorts of reasons why they had not voted. Ali Ghulam, our housekeeper, proudly posed his inked finger for Axel’s camera.

People were pleased with how Election Day had had come and gone. Apparently spokespeople for various ministries had made declarations at the end of the day that had impressed many. There was a sense of hope and the possibility of change. Still, I couldn’t help thinking about all the people who are dead now because of the elections.

At work we resumed our work that had been interrupted by Ramadan, then Eid and then the election run-up. We are back to normal, if work here could ever be called normal.

We had requested a late afternoon home visit from my Friday massage ladies. This was the only way that Axel could get a massage from one or the other as the spa itself is off limits for men. And since coming to a house is only worth their while if they can do two massages, I, without any reluctance, had another one, side by side with Axel. Needless to say, it was a fabulous way to end the first day of the week.