Traveling is all about the happy pursuit of vague memories of frantic random emotions. One of my absolute favorites: waking up in a city and not having a clue where the hell you are.

Eyes blink. I have a head-ace somewhere in the back of my mind, but curiosity takes over. Where are we? This bed is enormous, it’s sheets are red. Why? I appear to be naked, but the bed is empty. Ash-trays and half-empty bottles of a vague brand of Jamaican lager are shattered across the room.

I find my clothes, a set of keys and my wallet. My shoes are gone but I find a pair of slippers. I stroll trough a kitchen I haven’t seen before or don’t recall. The keys match the front door. I walk a couple of steps out of the door only to get hit by a huge red bus.

So this is London. But how did we get here?

I had a one-minute appearance in ‘The Listening Post’ of Al-Jazeera. Although not cut and edited in the way I would love it to be, still quite an honor to appear in one of the best investigative television programmes out there.

“Every journalist needs a network, and Facebook networks are a great way to expand and explore possibilities. It’s like a big address book of people you might want to meet when you’re doing a story,” said freelance journalist Olaf Koens, who uses the networks to make international contacts. (more on journalism.co.uk)

[photo-credit: Hovik under CC-licence]

In Lattakia, I met two Canadians who”™s been hanging around the Arabic Mediterranean for a while now. One told:

“œWhen I didn”™t know the Arabic word for “˜a house”™ yet, I always signaled a roof.”
He points the tips of his fingers to each other and forms a roof, like anyone else would.
“œBut Arabs never understood it. And I never got why.”
He laughs.
“œEver seen a house with a tilted roof here? No way!”
Apparently, if you want to express a house in sign language, you make a square sign with your hands, holding both your hands in front of you, and pointing thumbs down.
“œThat”™s how houses look like over here.”

Margriet writes: “I’ve asked a lot of people all around the world to take a picture at one time, for my final study project, and I’d like to invite you too. I want to create a broad view at the world, from as many places as possible, all at the same moment. I hope you are enthusiast to work with me on this art project, so don’t forget to grab your camera at the 8th of March at the right time. “

A couple of days ago quite a bunch of police-cars flocked around the building. Nothing special, except for a very cute blonde policegirl. That day I was running in and out the appartment, and I didn’t pay too much attention to everything that was going on. When, later that evening, an officer was smoking in my hallway – I told him to go and smoke outside. He did, but started vomiting instantly. Only now I know why.

Drame de la solitude, de l’indifférence. Peu importe le nom que l’on donne, le constat est là . Roger et Ghislaine, 69 ans, sont décédés sans que personne ne s’en soucie. Ni la famille ni les voisins. Seul le concierge de l’immeuble dans lequel ils habitaient depuis des années, situé quai du Batelage, à  Bruxelles, a été alerté… Mais pas tout de suite…. Il aura fallu 8 mois. Pendant 8 mois, personne dans cet immeuble de 22 étages n’a remarqué que le couple de sexagénaires ne sortait plus de son appartement situé au 14e étage.

http://www.dhnet.be/infos/faits-divers/article/195867/morts-depuis-le-mois-de-juin.html

It’s for sale at around 35 hrivnya’s (about 5 euro’s) in one of the many passages under ‘Maidan’, the main square of Ukraine’s capital. It reads ‘Дякую тобi, боже, що я не москаль!’, which is Ukrainian for ‘Thank you, God, that I am not Moscovite!’. It was a present to me from a lovely russophobe.

The saleswoman had the shirt available in most sizes, and according to sources it’s been quite popular amoung Ukrainians and ‘CIS-tourists’. It is a significant change. The last time I was paying attention to the shirt-sellars in Kiev they mainly had orange t-shirts reading ‘Yes to Yushenko’, or any other orange-revolution attributes. Now, all that has been replaced with Ukrainian patriottic shirts (such as ‘Ukraine – born to be free) and this russophobe example. The woman did have a couple of Russian and Soviet-flags on stock.

A lesson of macro-economics thus learns that the Orange Revolution isn’t much of a selling point any longer, Ukraine’s future lies in pattriotism and Soviet nostalgia. Well… It’s all made in China anyhow

Next to philosophy, I’ve studied some mechanics in my spare-time. When Jelle and me were about to embark on a plane to Kazakhstan – the pilot told us something was wrong, even before departure. I went and fixed it.

I wasted on the Russian parliamental elections. It’s not worth it, and everybody that even has the slightest sympathy for that country knows a sad day just passed. I did read everything today, from the arrest of ‘ballot-man‘ to latest predictions. Putin wins all.

The New York Times quotes Yabloko leader Yavlinsky:

Grigory A. Yavlinsky, leader of Yabloko, one of the mainstream liberal parties that have opposed Mr. Putin, said Mr. Putin had put himself in a bind because he wants to retain power but knows that if he tries to obtain a third term immediately, he will be seen as illegitimate by some in Russia and abroad.

“œHe has created really an authoritarian system, in which he is like a hill in the desert, and nobody is around,” Mr. Yavlinsky said. “œNow time has come to make a transfer of power, and he really, really has no idea how to do that. And nobody else has any idea. And his character is such that he has no confidence in anybody. So he creates a procedure that is abnormal. That is why he is in real difficulty.”

“œAnd that is why there is this instability now, and why the bureaucracy is very nervous,” Mr. Yavlinsky said.

But its an instability without any momentum. I’ve seen the momentum in Ukraine a couple of years ago, and it was civil, it was in the hands of thouse thousands of citizens who took it to the streets. Here, its in the hands of a small political elite. There goal is quoted in diamonds. I might be bitter, but it seems that in 16 years Russia managed to transform communism into wild-capitalism, and straight into tzarism. Bravo.

И вот настал великий день -
Мне дали в руки бюллетень”¦

Around the corner of the hotel is a nice square with a couple of café”™s, wooden benches with pillows and different counters that borrow money, drinks and costumers from each other. I try to drink a coffee in the morning without smoking, be it cigarettes, a nargilehs or a two minute stroll alongside Damacus”™ crowded streets.

Osama sits a few seats away, and clearly invites me to join him, and the beautiful girl he is talking with. “œI learn English”, he explains. “œIt difficult, but very authentic!” I take up one of his books, which should be read backwards. It”™s full of bureaucratic idiom, sprouts with spelling mistakes and collects a rare variety of completely useless phrases. On the page where he was making notes I find the sentence “œHe was killed by a scorpion”.

“œHave you ever been Tartus?”, asks Osama. He points at the girl, who takes off her sunglasess, tells something to Osama and puts her glasses back on. She kept lines around her eyes, faded on its ending, giving her a mysterious touch. As Graham Green wrote “˜she kept her lines for people that care about lines”™. Osama did, and so did I. “œShe from Tartus. She very authentic!” I could have known. Maybe it”™s the Mediterranean breeze, a milder climate or a lucky twist of faith, but opposed to other parts of Syria, Tartus is a very liberal city ““ girls stroll around its boulevards in short skirts.

When she leaves her nargileh aside and moves to the toilet, Osama comes sitting next to me. “œShe very authentic, no?” Yes, I nodd, and smile at him. I pay for the coffee and as I grab my bag I lean to Osama and tell him “œmake sure she doesn”™t get killed by a scorpion”. He grabs his book and starts looking for the page he saw before. When I am nearly around the corner he shouts: “œYes! Not-authentic! Welcome!”