ist ein pan-europäisches Blog, der sich bevorzugt mit politischen und wirtschaftlichen Themen beschäftigt. Während meiner Afghanistan-Reise 2005 habe ich zwei Gastbeiträge für A Fistful of Eurosgeschrieben. Unter anderem war A Fistful Of Euros 2005 für einen „Bloggie“ in der Kategorie „best group blog“ und 2006 von der Deutschen Welle für einen BOB-Award (Best of the Blogs) als „best English journalistic blog“ nominiert.
Afghanistan, how art thou
„Dust. It’s everywhere. On your body, in your eyes, your hands never feel clean and clean clothes never stay like that for more than an hour. At night, visibility sometimes is less than 50 meters. And during the day, the city vanishes under a cloud of beige.
No wonder that car-wash-shops are always crowded with cars even lining the side of the roads waiting for their turn. However: don’t expect some nice and shining automated car-wash-booths. Here vehicles are being hand-cleaned under plain sky by three to five men, all of different age groups from school kid to senior citizen. They are eager to please and spray and polish your car for fifteen and more minutes. And they – or at least the owners of the shops – must be earning quite a good living by offering this actually very useless luxury-service for 120 Afghani per car (50 Afghani = 1 US-$; in comparison: for a loaf of bread you pay about 4 Afghani, the traditional male clothing, hand-tailored and including the fabric needed is 420).
Clean cars in HeratBut then again this is the time for the little luxuries for those who can afford it. And while the income-gap widens, more and more people are willing to pay for exactly these kinds of services, pleasing so quickly and so easily…“
From Herat: a relief I didn't know I needed
„Just a few minutes ago I came back from the so called “Mobile Bar”, the weekly social get together of the internationals working with the different NGOs or other international organizations. And let me tell you something: You would not belief the kind of relief I felt right the minute I came to the rooms of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), who hosted the event today. People, male and female, were chatting to each other, music was playing loudly, alcohol was served – if you wanted it, and the headscarves were abandoned right at the door.
When we arrived at maybe 9.15 p.m., the room was already packed. Heineken was flowing by the can, water as well as vodka orange by the glass and that perfect mixture of English, French, German and a few more languages, so loved by all, who’ve spent some time abroad as a student, filled the air. …the mixture where you change the language in the middle of the sentence yet still everyone understands what you want to say.“