So last night was French Fries + Vodka night at our friends Bastiaan and Eva's house. For some variety we also had spicy Chinese cabbage (from French guest chef M. Paley) and a selection of local beers (Baltika 3 and Baltika 7, indicating the alcohol %).
As the night became longer and Iluka was safely put to sleep in our host's guest bed, it became clear that there would be no transport home and we would need to walk the 30min to our house. There is no such thing as 'call-a-cab' in Khorog...
Looking at my peacefully sleeping son and my two swaying, grinning husbands, the decision was easy: Matthieu will stay behind and spend the night at Bastiaan and Eva's house and I would accompany Tanja back home, as she had to leave for Dushanbe at 4am.
All worked according to plan. Tanja and I staggered home, chatting like two overexcited chicken about relationships and rabies, and i fell into bed as soon as I got home, blissfully anticipating the morning, where I would sleep long and undisturbed by the usual platter of my child's naked feet and his demand for yoghurt and Marmeladenbrot.
And while poor Matthieu had to endure the hardest of all hangover penalties – 7am father duty – I got to dream of flat tires and angry neighbors (any freudian suggestions?) until 9am. I had planned a quiet morning taking a long overdue shower and wash my hair and then maybe some e-mailing over a cup of coffee...
At 9.30 I can stand up almost vertically...bad surprise: No water! No water means no coffee, means no shower, means more dirty hair. Oh well, remains the internet and maybe some work on the computer...bad surprise: No electricity. As I have no battery left on my laptop, I finally succumb, call up Matthieu and meet my family at the bazaar for breakfast.
What were people doing before running water and electricity? Maybe they drank less....
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