A small epiphany

July 15, 2005 • Blog

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World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Anar

As I was relaxing on my back, in one of the lounging chairs at ‘Anar’ (meaning pomegrenate, whatever that actually is), an Indian restaurant not too far from my house, where we ended up after a very decent hash at Kargha/Qargha (even though the hares didn’t care to set the run and the place was more packed with Afghans enjoying the Friday off), watching the moon shine through the trees and listening to the conversations going on between my fellow hashers, I was pointed out an interesting parallel between myself and my fellow hashers, fellow strangefellows.

More than half of the hashers are of ‘mixed heritage’. Most are stuff like ‘Polish-American’, ‘Scottish-Australian’ or something else relatively mundane, but all of them also had a rather ambiguous childhood as far as heritage is concerned.
It clearly seems that’s quite a prerequisite for doing, and enjoying, the type of work all of these fellows have been caught up in: short term contracts in strange foreign countries with similarly strange people.
It made me feel at home, amongst my kind, and I smiled, looked at the moon between the trees, and chugged down a nice glass of vodka.

Earlier on the hash, I had a nice issue with my car. Parking at the golf course club house, in the parking lot that isn’t, yet, a real parking lot, I was driving out but didn’t avoid the huge holes really well. Stuck in one with my left front weel, my right back weel was hanging about one meter from the ground.
After it was decided the car was going to be pulled out, I decided to try and sit on the hood. A second guy joined me, and then a third, when we managed to get the back wheels to hit the ground. Quite immediately, the car started to slowly move forward.
I jumped off, got into the driver’s seat and slowly manouvred the car out.

The first disco in inner Kabul

July 14, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Copacobana

On Lev’s last night on the town, he’s leaving tomorrow, for good, only half a year early, we had a decent sheesha night at the DACAAR staff house and some drinks at ‘Copacobana’, the first disco in inner Kabul.
The place has a vaguely Cuban decor, but the Zoroasthrean artsy objects make it a rather sketchy mismash. And while the girls from the ‘Shu Shu Restaurant’ appeared to be partying right behind us, on their night off, we found out the alcohol is almost prohibitedly expensive.
Already getting in was awkward, with what looked like a very tall muscled gay Italian frisking us. And after entering, we soon found out the DJ was easily ranked amongst the worst in the world. Not only could he not mix from one song to the next, he couldn’t even get the volume steady during one song.
Still, some people were having fun, expats I couldn’t remember seeing anywhere in Kabul, including the highest concentration of them black folks I’ve seen in Kabul so far. Dancing, or rather, trying, in a style and to music that would have fitted better in some second rate, maybe third, techno club in mid nineties Berlin. Even several of the girls would have fitted in during the Love Parade. Maybe as the few more conservative ones, but still.

Early last week, there was a rocket attack ‘aimed at Shandiz’, the Persian restaurant practically next door to Copacobana. Shandiz doesn’t serve alcohol, has great food in a very nice setting. Ministers and important businessmen go here to take out their partners and associates.
Somehow, I really doubt the rockets were aimed at Shandiz. Copacobana, with its bouncing and screaming Chinese hookers, enjoying expensive vodka and whisky, seems like a slightly more appropriate target.

Kicking Geert Wilders against the shins

July 07, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Dutch embassy

On the first Wednesday of the month, the Dutch embassy invites Dutch nationals for a drink and, sometimes, a bite to eat. Occasionally, the odd foreigner shows up, today in the guise of Jesper’s (almost former?) girlfriend. Occasionally, hordes of military show up, as today, arriving in two tanks and some 4x4s. And, occasionally, the odd Dutchy, not living in Afghanistan, makes an entrance. And, indeed, today we had some 7 Dutch MPs, members of parliament, amongst the guests.
I managed to have a short chat with Corien Jonker, unfortunately in parliament for a moderate right wing party. But the infamous star guest of the day was the right-wing politician Geert Wilders. I really wanted to kick him against the shins, but was able to refrain myself from doing so. And then I wanted to ask who is hairdresser is and didn’t get round to it because some Dutch-Afghan started to recite poetry and the Dutch MPs decided to make a run for it.

The UN chick factor

July 06, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » UN guest house

Since the beginning of this week, I visit the UN guest house on a daily basis. It’s almost impossible to get some physical exercise in Kabul, driving to and from work, driving to and from events, wherever they occur in the city, and only very limited sports facilities being available in the city.

The UN guest house has a squash court, a fitness room AND a swimming pool. For only 40 bucks per month, you can get as fit as you like, visiting the place as often as you like, except on Fridays, I think.
What’s so remarkable about the pool is that, only meters away, across the wall of the compound, women of all ages almost don’t dare to be seen without a nice blue burka. Inside the walls, enjoying the sun on the edge of the pool, expat women wear nothing but a bikini, minding their own business. The contrast, as you can imagine, is significant.

There are more pools in Kabul, but not many. The Intercontinental hotel has one, but when they built it, they forgot to install a water purifier system, meaning the pool has been empty for a very, very long time. L’Atmosphere, the French restaurant, also has a pool, but it’s tiny. Still, so I’ve heard, it doesn’t stop the clientele to sunbath, near-naked, around the edge of that one either.

Meanwhile, Kabul is heating up nicely. Noon temperatures average between 35 and 40 degrees.

Kabul Beach II

June 24, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Bala Hissar

Yesterday, Pervaiz, one of the guys working in IT, at DACAAR, his father opened an exhibition of his paintings, sponsored by the French embassy. The opening was during work hours and although I wanted to visit the exhibition, I couldn’t really drop by during working hours.
Seemingly, Pervaiz though I could and so he called me around 2:30, saying that everyone was waiting for ME. I had no choice but to go, figuring that, with an opening, come drinks and snacks, so it wasn’t going to be all bad.

The paintings were nice, not just paintings, but also drawings, collages, tapestries and more, but there were no drinks or snacks.
The father, a banker by trade, expanded his hobby over the years and now uses all sorts of materials to create reasonable to quite good objects. My favorites were the paper collages, using bits of paper from magazines to create colorful scenes from Afghan life., which is typically the subject of most of his work.

Oh, you can tell I’ve had some time to spare. Check out the virtuagirl-hitlist.com.

Guns

Driving home from the hash today and waiting in front of the gate, for the chowkidar to open it, a small boy, dressed up in a nice but dusty suit, took out his, I hope, toy gun and made it clear he wanted to shoot me. I asked him why he wanted to do that, upon which the kid slid into childlike wonder, asking the chowkidar what strange a fellow I was.

Earlier, together with Lev, we had tried to get up to what I think is the bala hissar, the fort were the Brits were slaughtered in the late 19th century. It was a bit of a struggle trying to find the right road and the road was pretty bad, right on the edge of a cliff, but the view was worth it, if not the two what only could have been English canons.

We could see for miles around and could hear the screams of the kids playing in the Kabul river, right behind the zoo. I suppose this was the real Kabul beach.

On the warm side of things

Meanwhile, the city is starting to heat up. Temperatures rise to above 40 degrees and even in the evenings it doesn’t cool off enough.
Today’s hash was a pain, in the blistering heat. Struggling up the hill on which the Intercontinental is located, a small boy, who had just fetched water in several cans from one of the wells on the hill, pressed me for drinking a glass of his newly obtained water. The boy kept on pressing, even though I really wanted to avoid catching cholera, something which is now roaming around Kabul, but I had no choice. I drank a couple of sips and gave the glass into which he had poured the cool water back to kid.
I’m still alive and kicking.

Plates, treats and automobiles

June 18, 2005 • Blog

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World » Afghanistan » Istalif » Overlooking the Shomali plain

Asif was the DACAAR driver who got us to Mazar-e-Sharif in March. Shortly after my return, he asked Lev, Lyn and myself to join him on a trip to his family's house, close to Baghram, some 60 kilometers out of Kabul.
Of course Lev and I unconditionally surrendered but Lyn, unfortunately, was needed elsewhere on the same day, meaning it was just 'us boys' again.

Starting of with a side trip to Istalif, known for its mostly green-blue glazed pottery in all shapes and sizes, Asif treated us to yet another beautiful trip into 'the real Afghanistan'. And, of course, not changing his routine from our previous trip, he appeared to be bumping into family and friends on almost every street corner.

In between Parvan and Baghram, we braved a dirt track besides a fast flowing but small river, aiming for Asif's family house. His father and three brothers live there and all are married. Naturally, we didn't see any of the women, although I do suspect that it was them who made us lunch. Grilled chicken, salads, eggplant, chips, rice, steamed lamb and more. Truly great.
Afterwards, we lounged in one of the many gardens they were running, this one being the flower garden, were we had tea and sweets and were we had no choice but to leave with sackloads of berries.

Also having brought a bottle of sweet vodka, only 4.5 dollars at Supreme, Asif drove us to a cousin of his, where we could nip at the sweet liquid without Asif encountering the wrath of his father. The cousin, a buzkashi player, in the true spirit of Afghanistan, was married to four women and had no less then 18 children. A busy man indeed. I forgot to ask Asif how old the man was. Keeping in mind the many stories that foreigners over-estimate Afghan age with an average of 20 years, yes twenty, the man was probably around 20 years himself. An impressive feat indeed.

It was a very good day, not in the least helped by the truly fantastic weather, clear skies and the beautiful backdrop of the snow-capped Hindu Killers, the Hindu Kush, in the background.
Hindu Killers? Yeah, look it up.
Then, I also was given no choice but to extensively put my limited knowledge of Farsi into use once more. Asif is a great helper, in that he simplifies Dari sentences so that I can understand the essence of what he's trying to say or so that he can make clear that he understands what I'm trying to say, occasionally throwing in new words which I am then also forced to learn.

But probably what made the day was our tea in the garden of Asif's family, sitting on Persian carpets in the first floor of the house, or taking in the view of the Shomali plains from the plateau on which Istalif is located, or talking to Asif's cousin with the 18 children, just trying to understand how he can and even want to manage, or the mast and bolani at a roadside stall (I'll find out to what extent my internal combustion system appreciated today) run by yet other friends of Asif.

There's another dimension to this, even though I haven't figured it out completely. I'm of course closer to the Afghan people then most expats due to my background. if, some how some different paths would have been chosen at some early stage of my life, it could very well have been me, living in rather similar circumstances albeit in a different country.
The good news of course being that it could have been me, newly landing his fourth and 22 year old wife. Indeed, every downside has its upside.
But seriously, I'm not yet clear on how to exactly take this whole aspect in.

Our trip, but also the slightly worried atmosphere at yesterday's hash, after which I was totally knackered, apparently not being quite fit enough to run up and down hills in 40 degrees centigrade, and the contrast with reality as I experience it, highlight the strange duality the country has to suffer from.
On the one hand, security is tight, many NGOs not allowing their people out after dark, the restaurants being empty, expats moving in Land Cruiser convoys, the foreign supermarkets having 24 hours of police protection per day. On the other hand, on a day like today, you encounter only, and I mean only friendly people.
Which of the two appearances is fake? Will the real country please rise?

Oh, and my external card reader died. So articles with pictures might be few and far between from now on.

Another week over

June 16, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » DACAAR expat house 2

I’m not writing much indeed. The reason being that we’re quite restricted in our movements and I have not much to tell.
We have near-mandatory curfew after dark. Not that we all stick to it, exactly, but the curfew also means, since most other NGOs are even stricter, as compared to DACAAR, that all restaurants are virtually empty after dark. Not much fun, therefore.

Now, Kharga and Paghman both have been declared off-limits, after suspicious activity. A good thing I visited them on my first weekend here.
To make things worse, the generally held view is that the (perceived) security situation will not get better before the elections in September and probably even not before the winter.

Clean

With the house I now live in, we pay for a cleaner who also cooks. A bit awkward. Not the cleaning part, mind you, I only find that too pleasant.
It’s the cooking part. Tonight, he made a rather interesting pasta, with no meat but with chunky parts being potato. What’s more, it took him more than an hour to make. Indeed, the pasta was not al dente.
The man (for it is a man) also does our shopping. Something Lyn really appears to enjoy. I can’t say I really appreciate it. The ‘bazaar’, the shops, are only 30 meters from our front door, literally, and they stock all the stuff our cleaner can buy, him not going to Supreme or Blue.

Interesting weekend

June 11, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » DACAAR expat house 2

On Thursday, we had difficulty watching a movie at Giovanni’s place, since we had to interrupt the viewing on several occasions. Clementina Cantoni was released on Thursday evening and Giovanni, an Italian, got calls about every five minutes.
Interestingly, there are two official stories out as to what was done to get her out. The Italians claim that both money was paid and prisoners were released, the Afghan government claims that neither happened, but the word on the street is much more interesting. According to a source at one of the ministries, it was clear, almost immediately after the kidnap, who the kidnapper was. Immediately, the man’s mother was kidnapped and put in jail, with the message that lf Cantoni was hurt, the mother would be hurt. It explains why the government was so certain Cantoni would be released unharmed. And, of course, it’s justice, Afghan style.

Then, on Friday, while at the office, I was drawn away from my computer screen by a hailstorm which was pouring down hailstones the size of marbles.

Around this weekend, the first annual international Kabul spring fair was on, at the Loya Yirga Convention Center.
Taking a look, I was surprised to find the fair actually resembled a fair. Besides some of the articles, handmade embroidery, carpets, etc, the fair could have been almost anywhere in the world. Save for the fact that it was simply packed with regular folks, taking a look, out of curiosity, at this first annual spring fair.

Later, we visited the circus. Yes there is a circus in town. It’s from Pakistan and trying to understand at what time the show was on saw the second time today where the 10 languages I and the person I was talking to had between us weren’t enough to communicate.
The whole circus, in its desperation, resembles a set from Mad Max or some other post-apocalyptic movie more than anything else. A covering which might have been a tent when the British were still controlling India, rags and string to hold everything together, but with the promise of lions and trapeze artists. The net under the swings, even though it looked to be in sorry shape, suggested the acrobats at least wouldn’t fall to their deaths. However, the rather flimsy border between public and actors assured me I would want some fellow spectators between me and the lions.

Business or not

June 08, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Dutch embassy

Before having dinner at what might just be the best restaurant in town, Jaisalmar (what is it anyway, that so many of these restaurants also operate tourist guest houses?), I spent three hours at the Dutch embassy.

Earlier this week, I had received a call, asking me if I could please attend a meeting, at the Dutch embassy, with ‘people like me’. There was going to be coffee and tea and there would be talk of ‘things that would be of concern to me’.
Intrigued, but assuming the subject would be security, I agreed and so went over to the embassy today.

I found some 10 Afghans with a Dutch connection, most, if not all, having been refugees living in Holland, some from as early as 27 years ago. All were working in the private sector, which was convenient, as the acting ambassador told us that she called the informal meeting to start something of an informal network of Afghan businesses with a Dutch connection to bring together Dutch businesses and Afghan businesses.
I was intrigued, and thought of First Fridays and First Tuesdays. Mostly everyone else, however, mostly speaking only in Dari, was more interested in the rampant and incorrect spending of Dutch aid money and really felt like commenting on that.

Indeed, I was something of an odd one out, having no structural relationship with Afghanistan. But we were a colorful collection anyway, with one guy running for parliament in the upcoming elections and another being in charge of urban planning in Kabul.

It’d be interesting to see if this evolves into something of a real businesses-meet-businesses network. However, I’m pretty sure I won’t be there to see it happen since I’ll be gone before the end of August.

Vigil for Clementina Cantoni

June 06, 2005 • Blog

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World » Afghanistan » Kabul » Nader Shah’s tomb

Every NGO in Afghanistan tells you to avoid groups of expats in public. They represent targets for 'terrorists'.
So today, a whole bunch of them collected on top of Nader Shah tepe, where the tomb of the Afghan royal family can be found. Some 40 participants, and as least as many press and security plus some 20 police held a vigil for Clementina Cantoni, the Italian lady who was kidnapped three weeks ago.

She was taken after returning from yoga classes. Something I've attended a number of times but probably refrain from doing now. Not because of the kidnap, but because they moved the time forward to 5pm. Difficult timing. Why did they move it forward in the first place?

Giovanni, who knows the lady personally, me only having said 'hi' once or twice at yoga, is rather pissed at the way DACAAR is handling the situation in particular, and many NGOs in general, are handling it: acting as if nothing happened.
Quite occasionally, aid workers get killed in this country, but almost never is more than only fleeting attention given to these incidents. This week, it was exactly a year ago that five MSF employees were killed. No commemoration, nothing. The only lasting memory being that MSF pulled out of Afghanistan completely.
CARE, the organization the kidnapped lady works for, organizes something every day, if only a press statement. DACAAR, and every other NGO in Afghanistan, should have at least issued a statement after her kidnap, at the minimum condemning the act. In stead, DACAAR expat staff were told that the kidnappers don't have a hotel for hostages, so now that they have one, it's unlikely they'll kidnap more people.

Bookie

Arriving at my new house here in Kabul, I almost immediately realized we had to start a book exchange, the Kabul Book Exchange Network. There are between 100 and 200 books in the house which don't belong to anyone in particular. There's a huge shortage of foreign books in Afghanistan and since many expats are not allowed to do anything but go from home to work and back, particularly now, there's an even larger demand of books in the city.
I decided I wanted to combine this book exchange with links to Amazon pages, so that not only can visitors buy the books from Amazon, they would also be able to get a shitload of extra information on them. What's more, I also wanted to tie the site in with Bookcrossing, so that every book could also be tracked easily, allowing for users to exchange their books without the Kabul Book Exchange being a necessary part in that. 'Give a book, get a book'.
Then, yesterday, one of the first emails I got at work was a request for donation of… books, for the to-be-established Kabul Book Exchange.
I'm tempted to say 'Great minds think alike', but I don't know the person planning on setting up this other book exchange.

First day at work, again

June 05, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » DACAAR office

During the first half of my assignment, I never took my laptop home with me. Work is done at the office. Today, after my first day at work, I took my laptop with me. I still got work, unrelated to my project here in Afghanistan, to wrap up and it is under some time pressure.

People are leaving. Giovanni and I had a drink at Kristin’s, who’s leaving on Wednesday, early. Jesper’s girlfriend is leaving, early, late June. Kristin’s boss, Bro, has already left, early. To name but a few.
Meanwhile, Lyn claims some 60 people got killed in the south of the country over the last ten days. Well, at least this is not a boring country.

Good to be back

June 04, 2005 • Blog

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World » Afghanistan » Paghman » Paghman valley

The second day of the weekend and me fully recovered after dragging myself out of bed at 11am, we visited Kharga dam again, where the water had risen some 15 meters since our last visit, kebab shops were doing good business and guys were actually braving the chilly water.
We now had to pay a 20 afghani entrance fee for the car, for what now could aptly be called 'Kabul beach'.

Giovanni made a remark about a patch of land he had spotted last year, in Paghman valley, where he had found potatoes growing together with marijuana. We decided to find the spot of land again, meaning we had to drive to the end of a dirt road going into the mountains, park the car, and walk besides a stream for 40 minutes.
We found the patch of land, on which, again, potatoes were mingling with this very popular weed and I felt good about having earlier decided to wear slippers, not shoes. I crossed the stream, to a road, making walking back to the car much easier. Not a problem, even though I had to wade through the stream, disappearing in it up to my knees.

It was another fantastic day, beautiful weather, a light breeze, fantastic scenery, good food and it felt good to be back.

Gains and losses

June 03, 2005 • Blog

World » Afghanistan » Kabul » DACAAR expat house 2

Waking up, looking out of my window and watching the bright morning sun bathing the Afghani mountains in clear sunlight, I felt happy coming back. True, I hadn’t landed yet, and the view of an other airplane seemingly not even a kilometer away, also flying to Kabul, felt like a statement that, really, everything was still possible. Including a premature landing or crash.
Although there were many seats still left on the flight from Istanbul to Kabul, I couldn’t confiscate one of the four seaters, meaning I had two seats to try and get some sleep in. I arrived knackered.

I landed and was happy; The weather was good, clear and sunny, with a nice fresh breeze coming from the mountains, and I used this to my advantage, when later on the day, I spent some two hours on a bench in our garden, in the sun, taking a well-deserved nap.

I’ve moved houses. The upside is that I now can actually take a shower (assuming there’s a hot water), the downside is we don’t have satellite TV nor is the DVD player working.
On the other hand, my new roommates, Lev and Lyn, both working for DACAAR, have a cook who shows up five days a week to make an evening meal. Good shit.

There’s talk of yesterday there having been an attempted suicide bomb at the Intercontinental and today, while snoozing on the porch, I heard what I could only classify as a bomb. I AM concerned. Not yet worried, concerned.

A quicker trip

June 02, 2005 • Blog

World » Turkey » Istanbul » Ataturk airport

And so it happens that I’m heading back to Kabul. As expected, a lot had to be arranged last minute, meaning that I did not have my ticket from Istanbul to Kabul when leaving for Istanbul.
Last time, when obtaining my ticket to Kabul, I didn’t set any constraints and received quotations for trips through Dubai. Now, having seen Dubai and not having been impressed, I wanted to fly through Istanbul, Baku or Frankfurt, in that order of preference. This would bring me to more interesting cities in less time and would also result in one transfer less, having to go through London, before heading to Dubai.
What was interesting now was that not only did I only receive a quotation for the trip through Istanbul, it was also significantly cheaper than the flight through Dubai. And my flight time was reduced. Now why didn’t they give me this flight in the first place?

And, of course, my workload also suddenly increased immensely, just days before leaving.
Now, I will have to spent after-hours in Kabul, working on projects for Dutch clients. Convenient, because there still appears to be a total lock down in Kabul.

On that subject, I’ve been following what happened in Afghanistan over the past six weeks, while I was away, and I don’t think it looks all that good. Kidnappings or attempted kidnappings, killings, bomb blasts, a mortar attack on the ISAF compound and more. Even though I have the advantage of looking like an Afghan (just during check-in in Istanbul, I was mistaken for an Afghan three times), it doesn’t make me feel that much better. Everyone who was killed in the bomb attack on the mosque in Kandahar was Afghan.

Waiting at the check-in, I couldn’t help but notice that every single passenger queuing up was male. Also, they were carrying surprising large amounts of building materials as luggage.

Long time no see

May 26, 2005 • Blog

World » Netherlands » Delft » Home

It’s been a while.

My trip to Afghanistan has been finalised. Last minute, meaning I still don’t have the tickets while I’m leaving within a week.

As always, work is starting to stream my way at the last minute. Great.

Meanwhile, preperations are underway for a fundraiser for a South African project, Khazimula, which Veto, my student group, is supporting with money and a visit next month, where some of us will help build an orphanage and a school.
The fundraiser is on June 4th. You should come!

Earlier this week, visiting Rotterdam for work, I stumbled upon everyone’s favorite black babe, Beyonce Knowles. She was promoting her new perfume in some local store. Tons of teenage girls were screaming their lungs out.

the Varna liberation monument :: a study

May 23, 2005 • Photography

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World » Bulgaria » Varna » Freedom munument

As a former communist stronghold, Bulgaria still has its share of Soviet-era memorials.

The one featured in this photoshoot actually commemorates the Russo-Turkish war which ended in 1878.
Although it’s now in really bad shape, I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.

Considering 40 years of cold war, it’s no surprise the Bulgarians wanted to get rid of the monument in the early 90s. Only to find out that removing it would be too expensive. It now occupies a rather large tract of land and sits on top of a hill overlooking the Black Sea, almost completely forgotten and quite run down.
Only the occasional young couple, seeking solitude and a wonderful view of the area visit the monument. Be it for totally different reasons as to what the monument was meant for.

Back from Bulgaria

May 17, 2005 • Blog

World » Bulgaria » Varna » airport

To get our 6:30 plane, we had to get up at 2:30 to catch a bus. Ungodly hours, but we made it. Hopping on the Virgin Nigeria charter, we were treated to the same high quality sandwhich as on our trip to Varna.

Holland was even colder.

Khazimula

Meanwhile, on June 4th, my former student club will have a big party in Rotterdam. We're celebrating our 20th anniversary, but also try to collect money for a development project we will be working on in July, in South Africa.

Sunny Varna

May 16, 2005 • Blog

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World » Bulgaria » Varna » Freedom munument

Taking in the last couple of sights in Varna we missed on previous occasions, Betsy stopped at every second stall selling sun glasses to get that insect look at a decent price.
Most of the time we spent at a major monument in Primorski Park. It's a freedom monument, commemorating the communist struggle that went on from 1923 to 1944.
Around the statue, commemorative plaques have been laid out, to remember the Bulgarian cosmonauts that joined the Soviets into space.

The statue is located inside Primorski Park, your typical communist-era lush green oversized relaxation area. It not only contains the obligatory ice cream, popcorn and nut sellers, it also has the train rides, statues, but also a zoo, a terrarium and a dolphinarium.
I vaguely remember visiting a dolphinarium when I was a kid, but I don't remember being that impressed. Also, watching dolphins, sharks or whales at work on television never installed something of an awe, wonder or desire to see these mammals at work.
Now, however, visiting the dolphinarium here in Varna, apparently the only one in the Balkans, we had drinks and a bite to eat at the cafe attached to the dolphinarium, where you have access to seven huge windows, looking into the tank.
Dolphins swam by and after we became glued to the windows, they started playing with us. Swimming, past the windows, up to our window, so that we only could see them at the last second and then, right in front of our face, open their mouth.
Later, attracted by our making noises by tapping the window, they would stop by again, and make circular movements right in front of the window, while constantly looking at us, with one eye, then with the other.
At three, when it was time for the dolphins to start with their regular show, to which we did not go, one of the dolphins swam up to our window for one last time, making high pitched noises as to invite us to the show, came up really close and pressed his air-hole right against the screen before swimming off.

Then, walking back through the park to the downtown area of Varna, we noticed something obscure. The whole park appeared to have been taken over by single moms with strollers. I'm serious, we encountered single mom after single mom, not a husband or boyfriend in sight. Not ten, twenty or thirty, hundreds!

Back at the bus stop, going back to Albena, Betsy was nearly mugged by a girl. Acting as a group, girls walk up to someone from behind and try to open the bag. Betsy scared her off, just after noticing her objective in time.
Then, while waiting in the bus, we watched them at work. Once, I saw the same girl come up to an older woman. I jumped out of the waiting bus and started shouting, after which the girl decided it would be safer to get away, and ran off in a hurry.
Shortly after, however, she was back, and we could see her in the distance following a tourist. The tourist started running to cross a street on a dying green light. The thief started running with her, while continuing to try and open the tourist's bag!

While Albena is starting to fill up with tourists, the weather is also improving quickly. The wind still being fresh, directly in the sun, temperatures already get up to 25 degrees, and they're set to go even higher, right after we leave.

Besides tourists and sunshine, hookers are also starting to pour into Albena. They cruise the major shopping street, harassing older men, some of whom dislike this invitation to a good servicing, while others love it.

Also, we found out that the Lidl in Albena is fake, using a slightly incorrect but nearly-perfect logo above the store and on the plastic bags.

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