October 5, 2011

The day started out unpromising as my laptop refused to accept my password no matter how many attempts I made at it. Looking out the window, the sky looked milky while the sun struggle to shine through the dust. The temperature had dropped noticeably and most women could be seen wearing sweaters or raincoats over their traditional dresses. We're going through one of the famous dust storms that come from Afghanistan every year. They can be quite severe and we saw some wen even wearing dust mask. Set out to find some office supplies and visited several stationery stores, all on the same side of the Rudaki Avenue, and all small, cramped and dark. With the help of a local man with whom we had had an earlier encounter at the flower shop, we were able to buy what we needed and he even took us to the only place where lamination can be done at about a dollar a page.


Had my first taste of plov, the Tajik's national dish, and was quite pleased with it. After all, what's there not to like:it's a combination of fluffy basmati rice, shredded carrots, onions, nuts and a choice of meat cooked in a savory broth and garnished with slices of tomatoes.

                                                    Plov

We then trekked to the American Embassy where a meeting had been scheduled with our Regional English Language Officer (RELO) only to find out that we had been unceremoniously stood up as he had traveled out of town. The meeting was to take place the next day.  Caroline came back to the house with me to look at my computer but was unsuccessful as well in figuring out what the problem was.

My landlord had promised to finally bring the bed, a chiffonnier (as he kept calling the wardrobe) and other items. It almost felt like Christmas as he brought in a full bedroom set, a large wardrobe as there is no closet built-in, a coffee table, an iron, and another teapot. In addition, another piece of furniture, combination of coat rack and storage unit, was to be placed in the hallway. I kind of the like the apartment better before all the furniture arrived. It’s beginning to look a bit cramped. The three young men assembling the bedroom furniture took more than three hours to do so and then I found out that I was getting only the box spring, just like Nancy, and no mattress whatsoever. When I conveyed this idea to the landlord, he indicated the bed was made in Ukraine and I had lots of comforters to throw over it to make it more comfortable. I placed all three of them on top of the box spring and could still feel the metal coils. What’s a spoiled American to do?