I sometimes feel the need to remind me how the Worldwide women situation is much worst than mine. Because I claim that my life is, day by day, always the same: I get up at the usual time, go to the usual job, hear the usual quarrels, do homeworks… The bigger sense of adventure is listening to a friend who tells me how his dog won a prize.
I should’nt claim, I know that I am silly if I do it, but I really realize that only when I read books like the Addario’s one.
She was in Afghanistan first time in 2000, when she could not imagine what would have happened just one year later. And she saw the women, there: separated from male world, covered from top to toetip, without the possibility to work, study, go out without the male relative shadow; with the duty of giving birth to children. Without books.
What strucked me is that Linsey doesn’t tell you about the fear of entering such a country, unless she is under a gun or among a group of sexually excited males who touch her from every side.
The comparison with Obama’s memoir The Audacity Of Hope is due.
My copy of Obama’s book is a used one. Among the pages I found this US metro ticket:
On one side, a lonely woman who travels in Afghanistan and try not to feel fear.
On the other side, a big and powerful country whit the constant fear that some terrorist lets it blast. A fear that cannot be forgotten, because you do one of the most normal things in the world, like taking a bus, and you are immediately reminded that it could be the last thing you do.
A woman who let the fear starve and a country wich feeds it.
Different ways to employ own energy.