It’s funny how sometimes you only talk to people in planes in the last few minutes. On the flight to Bahrain, I was next to a Danish NGO worker who was working with a women’s mental health project in Kabul. So I gave her Yousuf’s email. And just landing in Heathrow I made acquaintance with an electronics teacher from Norfolk , who has been doing it for 17 years. Life sounds a bit different there: the King keeps giving his people bonusues and pay rises, and the students aren’t too bothered about learning electronics because the country can pay other people to do it. At least our gang of psychologists and psychiatrists in Kabul are motivated and keen: guess who I’d rather be teaching!
Heathrow is obviously a different world – but a bit like Kabul, it is difficult to esacpe from. I had three plans up my sleeve: taxi, bus and family. Taxi - £xx to Slough, about 5 miles away. Too expensive; next option please. Bus: transfer to Terminal 5, then to Slough Bus Station, then transfer to local hospital bus. Too much luggage for that; next please. Family: all asleep and grumpy, not really possible; back to taxi.
Oh the joys of being home!
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