September 30th, 2007 - my 30th birthday. I am celebrating (stuck at if you can call it that) at the lovely Serena Hotel in Kabul where Chris and I spent last night. He has since left the hotel in a cloud of mystery and I have been ordered to enjoy the rest of the day lounging in the spa and read my book by the pool, have lunch and just enjoy the time to myself. A vehicle will drop my clothes off here in the next few hours, and then return to collect me at 7pm for the night's mysterious festivities.
Over a nice big breakfast Chris asked me what wisdoms I had to bestow of the past decade, to which I responded that I was trying not to be melo-dramatic and therefore wanted to refrain from entering into too much of a melancholy flashback. One thing that did come to mind is that, apart from these milestones being somewhat arbitrary; clumsily allowing us the opportunity to divide our lives into neat chunks for easy review and sometimes regret; the main pitfall at such a juncture, and I believe especially one's 30th, is to look back and have the overwhelming feeling that youth is lost and one did not achieve enough to warrant 30 years. I believe both Chris and I are fortunate in that sense. While the lines are slowly appearing despite the SPF 30s, and the greys are attacking his temples more violently than before, we are definitely far from "grown-up", and more importantly, have tried our utmost to pack as much into the past thirty years.
Today, at thirty, I have lived on four continents, worked in two war zones, met four Nobel Peace Laureates, witnessed the democratization of my beloved country, visited almost 25 others, am licenced to fly and dive deep into the blue ocean. I have more friends than I can count, a loving family, and married to my true love. What more can a girl want?
And for the next decade he asked? Perhaps another Masters, a real home, 25 more countries, and yes - a child.
(I'm pretty much up for anything, as long as it is not boring!)
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