Four months and two days

I wanted to write this entry two days ago, but somehow I ended up doing other things that day, maybe trying to avoid thinking about the day four months ago.

Fact is, the 13th of August is still so vivid in my mind that I could live through it again, if I only would close my eyes. What started as a normal day, turned out to be a day that left a deep mark. But than again, I assume all really big days (especially the really tragic ones) start totally normal. In German we have this saying "getting up with your left leg", which means that days which you start on your left leg, usually turn out a bit chaotic. But at least you are prepared for it, as you immediately know, when walking to the toilet and there is no toilet paper, or latest when observing your wrinkled face in the mirrow, that the day will be chaotic.

The 13th of August started totally normal, at six in the morning, with a cup of coffee, the morning news on BBC, a quiet drive to the office, some hello and good mornings to colleagues, before I headed south to Gardez. I assume for my colleagues in Gardez, about to travel north to Kabul, the day must have started in a similar way, as normal as days can be, even in Afghanistan. Eleven o clock we met half way, having a cup of tea (milk tea, now that was abnormal for Afghanistan!), switching cars, waving good bye, only that they would never reach Kabul, whereas I reached Kabul, hours later after the world I knew around me had suddenly and unexpectadly changed. The few hours before reaching Kabul passed in a blur. While I was waiting to be brought back safely to Kabul, my boyfriend was on his way back from Jalalabad, on a road where several attacks had happened the same day, luckily making it safely back to Kabul as well. I remember talking to many people that day, but I couldn't say anymore which words were exchanged through the phone line, except that I appreciated each and every of them. What I remember cristal clear are the words that filled those ten minutes before switching cars, sitting in a narrow district office with my colleagues coming from Gardez, drinking tea.

Shock and disbelief have since than changed to anger, and now, finally sadness. And yet, on the same day, something else unplanned happened that will also change my life, partly already did, result of the desire to be close to somebody I could trust. For few days now, this unplanned happening has started kicking a bit, reminding me of the turns life can take, making me smile and driving tears into my eyes at the same time. Most people around me back in Italy only see the kicking bit, and are not aware of the things it reminds me of, even though they know what else happened on that day. Maybe the kicking is there because I never wanted to forget this day, because I wanted to have something to hold on to, something that simply shows how unusual life is.