alice's peephole

  Fark. No other word has quite the capacity to capture the trauma that this year has been. Almost everyone, all across the globe has struggled with varying degree. The faint glimmer of hope in humanity is that Trumpturd has been voted out and vaccines are on the way. Even after being vaccinated, how long will it take for the trauma of this pandemic to recede? Listening to stories of people losing jobs, being stuck away from their lives for months on end or starving makes me wonder if our ways of living will ever be the same again. The events of this year are definitely forcing me to re-examine my life choices. What I always took for granted – being able to fly home within a few days should the need arise, was and in many cases remains indefinitely suspended. Should that call come, the one that is every expat’s worst fear, we take false comfort in the fact that travel is reasonably affordable and simple. We promise ourselves every year to do better, call more often and to visit mor

Germany and the service industry – a match cooked up and baked to perfection in the very depths of hell.  Anyone who has ever tried to find information about a train ticket will know the horrors of spending hours looking on obscure and outdated websites about which service covers what region, what ticket is valid till which border, when do the cheaper time-bound tickets become valid and which of the many “offers” saves you a few cents on this expensive not-so-public transport service. The fact that Deutsche Bahn is a private company run for profit, on the one hand; while on the other hand the German State actively dissuades people from buying cars by providing little to no parking facilities in cities – simply boggles the mind. I have spent a long hours researching several websites on whether my SWB issued job ticket is valid to take me to the neighbouring state, and if not, which is the add-on ticket I need to buy.  Try to shift house and you are confronted with more proble

Part I “Are we human, or are we dancer”? -           The Killers My first soiree with the continent of Africa went quite sour, quite quickly. I landed in Abuja, Nigeria on 1 February with some colleagues. We proceeded to the visa on arrival/ immigration office. 4 visas were processed and biometrics recorded, but not mine. I was told that the visa procedure was new and had glitches. I was assured I would receive my passport in a few days. I didn’t have much of a choice but to leave for the hotel, passport-less, along with my colleagues. A few days and some minor misadventures later, I asked after my passport. I was told that many others had to surrender their passport, and I should not worry. Gauging by the general chaos of the Local Organising Committee for the event, I started to do exactly that. M and I were the only ones in our organisation who were without a passport, and due to fly out a day after the rest. They had their passports. We wanted to change our flig