Sylvia's Journal

Yesterday’s newspaper showed a picture of a would-be suicide bomber, ‘clad in lady-dress’ according to the caption, who was caught on his way to Kapisa with a bag full of explosives. The picture shows what looks like a mentally disabled man, his capture, despite his ‘lady dress’ suggesting this may well have been the case. If not his behavior, then his beard and shoes would have given him away. Young girls have also been girded with suicide vests – people go to great length to pursue all sorts of sinister objectives. The picture filled me with sadness.

I found my masseuse in the company of a new character by the name of Sammy. The name did not help me in figuring out whether I was dealing with a he or she. S/he cut my hair with the flair of a gay hairdresser who considers hairdressing an artistic expression rather than a job. The hair job was followed by an extraordinary massage of both legs and one arm (A did the other) and L was in and out giving directions to both, lending a hand once in a while. Sammy is apparently an expert in tantric massage but until I know what that is I decided to go with a regular one under L’s supervision.

I made it to and from the massage place without encountering any madmen like the one pictured above. In fact, to my great surprise I was waved through several blocked off streets by uniformed men with guns as if I was part of the military.

The rest of the day I devoted to exploring job opportunities post Kabul, both with and outside MSH. I organized and edited my CVs, completed an American one, and a European one, and filled in most of my Devex profile, following tips and advice from the Devex professionals. It is a little scary, after nearly 25 years, to throw oneself into the job market again. Thousands of kilometers away Axel is doing the same thing. Something will surely turn up.