Funfare for the Common Man

Waiting patiently Interlude 7: One year later 13 February 2023: our darling little girl’s 5th birthday. 13 February 2022: our little girl’s 4th birthday party, a surreal experience overshadowed by the decision we – I? – had just made the day before to leave the next day, my daughter and I. (note to students: this is not a terribly good sentence; please don’t write like this) If you’re a parent, you’ll know the cliché very well: Where has the time gone? They grow up so fast. We left Kyiv on Valentine’s Day, with a return ticket for mid-March. We were leaving as a precaution, though precaution hardly captures how agonising a decision it was. An accidental career Late March 2022, Vienna: I sit here on a glorious sunshiny spring morning in Stadtpark, one of Central Europe’s most picturesque parks, with birds chirping, fountains in full flow, couples promenading hand-in-hand, the distant strains of a busker adding a jazz soundtrack to the setting. Ah, the life of an English teacher abroad! ...

Editor's note: this is an excerpt from the book the author is currently working on. It is not a book about war or politics or anything necessarily directly related to Ukraine, but it's impossible to ignore what's going on. Therefore, the author has added various Interludes in between chapters, and this is the fourth such Interlude. The book is tentatively titled An Accidental Career. He has decided to share this latest instalment in light of events on the morning of Monday, 10 October. Stadtpark, 14 October, 2022. Defenders Day in Ukraine Monday, 10 October : a crisp, gorgeous autumn morning, as I sat on a bench in Stadtpark, central Vienna, looking at the colourful leaves, contemplating life and what I would do in the day ahead. Rewind to the Introduction, where I found myself in virtually the same exact spot some six months ago in early spring, with the same glorious sunshine, not long after I had arrived in Vienna, wondering what lay in store in the months ahead. It was ...

My daughter has reached that magical age where she constantly asks ‘why?’ to just about everything. Why can’t I stick my fingers in that electrical socket? Why do the birds sing every morning? Why does the Gruffalo have a wart on his nose? Why do you read books without pictures, daddy? Kids are insatiably curious. ‘Daddy, why are bad people trying to hurt people in Ukraine?’ How do I explain the concept of pure, unadulterated evil and cruelty and megalomania emanating from the most despicable person in the world and the most reviled, loathsome nation in the world, from inflicting untold misery and devastation on our beloved home?  How do I explain what’s going on right now and how we may not be able to return to our home, and to our new, long-awaited, finally-completed flat that we've only recently moved into, and how do I explain to her that she might not see her kindergarten friends again? Two weeks ago I made one of the most agonising and gut-wrenching decisions of my life. I to...