Wednesday, 22 April 2009

Back again, thanks to Azal

Scary Azeri is on holiday! In Baku! (well desired, therefore- justified)

NB: This is my excuse for the lack of sketching by the way, as my access to a scanner is limited at the moment. (And before some of my super sensitive readers get all sweaty with fury again, I did not mean there are no scanners in Baku. I meant my access to them is limited.)

I am curious, whether my imagination (when it comes to the number of disasters I think might happen to me while traveling) is normal.

You see, if I were a New Yorker, I would probably have a shrink. We would analyze my weird imagination, and confirm it was probably something to do with my father. Perhaps, it is the fact that as I child, I often fell asleep on a sofa in front of the TV with Soviet propaganda on. While my father chain smoked in an armchair next to me. That alone could make anyone grow up crazy.

But I noticed, as I get older, and especially since I became a mother, I am a lot more paranoid. It definitely is related to motherhood, somehow. (Or old age?) I used to drive faster, smoke fags, eat lots of fat, and never particularly worry about own mortality. These days, as I drive to work I think how quickly it might happen. Bum, splat - gone. Because some cretin makes a wrong move (obviously, it never is my fault, is it) And then I get sad thinking of my child without her mummy. See? By reading this blog, you opened a door into my mind, and now I bet, you wish you hadn't!

So of course, flying to Baku on an Azerbaijan Airlines(Azal)plane, (being a real patriot that I am, or just because it is pretty decent and there isn't that much to chose from anyway) I kept fighting all sorts of thoughts. About our plane suddenly crashing, and my child screaming, and me hugging her for the last time...that kind of stuff. The problem is, the pictures in my head are so vivid, I can almost feel the plane going down. Unfortunately, because of the recession they removed movies from Azal planes. That is a true disaster, as for 5 hours I had to be working pretty hard on focusing on something else but the possible ways of me and my toddler tragically dying together on our way to my motherland.

But now we are here, and it is... different. It has been two years since my last visit, and things changed quite a lot. It reminded me something I already knew: when I miss home, I miss home of the 90's. Which isn't there anymore. But hey, shashliks are still pretty good.

2 comments:

  1. Welcome back! And, yes, having children really does bring possible tragedy into focus; maybe it's nature's way of making us more careful so there aren't as many orphans ;)

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  2. Oh no, now you've added to my list of worries as I take daughter on a plane for the first time this summer!

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