The long haul home

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  Dushanbe, Tajikistan
Monday, November 7, 2011

I'd only been in Dushanbe five weeks, but built up a nice collection of friends. The evening consisted of just this, a long and gradual procession of people popping in to say farewell. Many people had not been to my house up until visitng me, and asides from their reaction owing to the fact that my house was an English language institute, they were also stunned by my bad arse 1970s sofa clad with matching tiger. Somehow, it was the awfulness of this upholstery that added to it's charm.

Tiger blanket and friends aside, we also had a 4 Couchsurfers, two of whom were a French couple travelling together from Afghanistan, and the others, well I'm still not sure. The Belarussian girl who spoke bad enough English for me not really  understand her nonsensical explanation was notable mainly because of her insatiable desire to travel to Afghanistan. She knew nothing about the place, but seemed absolutely besotted by it. She was accompanied, or at least turned up at the door with a Tajik filmmaker who lives in Russia. He was also quite strange and kept on gliding through our house, beer in hand yet saying very little. I later realised it was because of the language barrier.

A nice discovery came when Michaela our French couchsurfer pulled out some Afghani hash, ....... "When in Rome". The evening, ensued in quite an agreeable fashion, until pulling out my mattress, reaady to sleep, I realised it was time to hit the road. I wondered through the house in search of misplaced belongings until the penetraating shriek of a corn horn ignited my frenzy.  A few minutes elapsed, I was undoubtedly missing things, but what was there to do? The car awaiting, some hugs and flapping of hands later we headed for the airport.

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