My vacation in the desert

Daddy and mommy are the best! They took me and Kiki to this island where you can run in the desert and swim in the sea. They call it Gran Canaria - let me tell you about it.

First we woke up early, took a taxi, waited at the airport, flew for about 4-5 hours, then traveled by for one more hour, then dragged ourselves to the hotel room, got the stuff out of the suitcase - and all that so mommy could show how great she looks in her bathing suit. I think it was worth it. But that's not all! The best part was that right in front of our hotel there was ... a desert! A real one. So I took my shovel and my friend Gugi, who is a mole, and we went to dig a big hole in the ground, like in the cartoon. And just like in the cartoon, the sand kept falling back, filling the hole once again. Daddy said that this was a fine example of how life imitates art. Or of how art imitates life, I can't remember now.

There was also a swimming pool - and it should not come as a surprise that we spent most of our time in or around it. Apart from when we slept - which was for two hours every afternoon, both me and Kika - so exhausted were we from the morning in the pool! And after that - back to the pool, until the sun set. The pool was bigger than anything I had ever seen before - certainly bigger than the pools we go to in Frankfurt. The water was warm and crystal clear, the sun was shining, a weak breeze running through your hair, the women were practically naked. What else do you need in life? A daiquiri, daddy said, and went to get one.


There were also intellectual stimuli. In particular - a big chess set, where the pieces were heavier than me, but I could still carry them around, or issue orders to whoever was willing to listen. We played several games with daddy and I beat him easily. It's not such a difficult game - you just need to adapt the rules to the situation at hand. For example, it is hardly necessary for the bishop to follow the diagonal when he can take the pawn directly in front of him. And if there is a queen on the diagonal between the rook and the king - you just take the rook and smack the queen away, after which you take the king. Check mate! Daddy gets all worked up how the rules should be followed and how there should be order, but he's lived in Germany for too long, methinks.


But let me tell you again about the desert. It is made of actual African sand which the wind has blown across the Atlantic to Gran Canaria, and molded it into a real mini Sahara. There are dunes, and desert flowers, and ups and downs, and if you find the perfect spot, you can have a sunset in the desert, which is supposed to be the most beautiful kind. Or you can have mommy all to yourself and pretend that the two of you are lost in the desert, and that you should work hard for your survival. Of course, in reality the hotel is 5 minutes away, and there is a buffet and cold beer and hot water. This is the best kind of adventure, daddy said - the kind where luxury is not sacrificed.



And you know the best part? When we were back, I got to take care of a real hamster! I love vacations.

Christmas 2008 = food + grandparents + new toys

I don't remember well my past Christmas holidays. I remember it gets cold, it's snowing, and bus drivers curse. But this time I was already two and a half, and it was exactly the magical experience they say it is! First, everyone gets very tender and gentle and we hug all the time and give each other kisses all the time. Our neighbor says it's because we all get to feel God's grace on us. Daddy says that it's because when it's getting cold, you need someone's body to make you warm. I sense there is a dirty hidden thought here, like with most of what daddy says. But in general he is right - when mommy kisses Kiki for a while, Kiki gets all warm and happy.

Daddy also gets all emotional and wants to hug us and hold us all the time. I don't object - this usually has nice practical implications. Like, he reads to us, or gives us a chocolate, or tickles me until I laugh my lungs out. He also likes to hold us both simultaneously, and he is good at it. Mind you - this doesn't mean that he is fat, just that we are still relatively little.

Then, it really starts snowing, and the Germans get going. Daddy says that there were times when the Germans were mostly good at ransacking Rome. (Mental note - visit Rome. If it's easy to ransack, it must be fun). Then they became good at marching in leather boots in all directions while singing songs about where the German borders should lie. Apparently, others showed them (twice) that they were wrong about the borders, and so they became good at yet other things - like roasting sausages, making cars, and building all kinds of Christmas attractions. It's really impressive - they put up gazilions of pavilions (the title of my first novel) in the center, selling all kinds of sweet stuff, like chocolate strawberries and fried almonds, it's great. And of course - they put up a humongous carousel. This year daddy took me for the first time, and it was fantastic!

Then, just before Christmas proper, we took off by car and went to babicka and dedecek in Ostrava. I love Christmases there because there is so much snow! One day we went out in the snow - Kiki refused to and pretended she wanted to sleep - and I got to make this enormous snowman which looked exactly like daddy. And I don't mean "almost exactly" - I mean "exactly". The nose, the belly - everything.


And then - Jezisek came. Jezisek is this very strong person who carries presents for about 1 billion children and manages to travel the globe within 24 hours in order to deliver them all at the same time. Daddy estimates that this means the man is routinely carrying around 1 million tons of toys and making more than 1000 deliveries per second. According to daddy, this violates at least half a dozen laws of physics, and if they ever catch him, they will give him the Nobel prize. But apparently, nobody has caught even a glimpse of him so far. Only once in Mozambique the police was there one minute after he left, and the only sign that he had been there were the gnawed bones from the freshly consumed chicken.

Anyway - I got a lot of toys! And I got a lot of time to play with them, and everyone was head over heels to read to me! How can you not love Christmas?

Life with Kiki

Last time I was explaining what a great thing it could be to have a sister. But most of the positive stuff I could think of (girlfriends and the like) is in the distant future, so I was skeptical. In the meantime, however, I have seen a whole new world of opportunities: for example, your sister comes with a pacifier - really, that's how they come. And that at a time when your parents are trying to take yours away! So you just tell them: "This is not fair - how can she have one, but not me?" And they just give up. Easy-peasy.


Of course, she has her own merits, and I like her more and more. She mostly lies on her back and stares at the ceiling, or makes weird sounds. Then she wants something of me, but I have no idea what. I go, "Tell me, Kiki, what do you want? I'll do it whatever it is, but you have to tell me, I am no master of telepathy!" (that's a cool word I heard on the TV). But daddy tells me she can't talk yet. But I can! Why can't she? Well, he says, you also didn't talk when you were a baby. I have no memory of that, but I find it hard to believe.


When Kiki was not born yet, mommy was an unmovable object. Well - not really. I mean, she moves a lot, it is her nature to be incapable of staying still. Women in her family are apparently like that - they are afraid if they sit for too long, they may rot away, so they move around constantly. But I'm digressing - I meant to say that we didn't go to cool places out of the city as much as before, because she needed to rest, and we needed to be close to the center in case she starts giving birth, so that there is a doctor or at least a veterinarian around. But now that Kiki is out, we started going places again. For instance, when babicka a dedecek were here last week, we went to this horse farm, and I got to ride a horse while Kiki was sleeping on daddy! Idyllic my life is, I'm telling you that. I said - I'm telling you that!


Generally speaking, I think we are a cooler family now. For example, when we go out, now both mommy and daddy have something to do - one takes care of Kika, the other of me. These days I usually sit behind daddy on his bike, and mommy pushes Kiki's stroller. Then we parade around Frankfurt and hope at least someone would appreciate what a beautiful family we are. Hasn't happened yet, but hope dies last. Ah, and by the way - this is Evicka. She is mommy's friend and my girlfriend. But mommy doesn't know yet. Come to think of it - neither does Evicka.

On the occasion of me being the big brother, mommy and daddy decided to dress me in some funny clothes that my daddy and his daddy used to sport on special occasions like this one. I put a brave face and tried to look like an angel, which was the whole point, I'm sure.

I have a sister - now what?

It's official now - I have a sister! For months mommy and daddy have been telling me that this would happen. They claimed that supposedly, my sister was living in mommy's belly and this was why her belly was growing so much. I didn't believe them, of course. For one, I've seen many other people with bellies (especially when we were in America), and this has never been a cause for alarm or anxiety, but only for personal satisfaction and for occupying the whole sidewalk when you walk (especially in America). Second, why would a baby live in the belly? It's full of food and liquids which limit your actions. Doesn't it make sense to grow in a more spacious and sunny place, like Florida, for example? I asked daddy and he said that Florida is for old people, not for babies. How would he know?

In any case, the day K (for Kristina) finally arrived. Mommy spent the night in the bathtub reading a newspaper and then suddenly said, the baby's coming. Free press is really a fantastic thing! They called aunt Kim, who is our hebame (this is someone who helps you push a person - in this case, the baby - out; the female version of a bouncer in a dance club, according to daddy). Aunt Kim examined mommy and said that they have to rush to the baby center, so they left me with aunt Eva and uncle Oscar and ran away to push the baby out. I made a scene, but mostly because I didn't feel like having a sister. Someone to share my toys and room with? Not yet. Maybe when I'm 45, divorced and lonely, but now?

Shortly afterwards daddy came, all silly and smiling, and said that Kristina is out already and that I could come and see her. We all went inside, and there was mommy, looking very beautiful and tired, and a small bundle covered with blood was lying on her belly. (Daddy told me later that the Brits wouldn't say "a bundle covered with blood", but rather "a bloody bundle"). I came up to hold her and she smelled nice and looked friendly, so it was alright. We drove home and then uncle Stefan came and they drank with daddy and made a mess of themselves as usual, it was embarrassing, but I played with Kristinka and didn't pay attention. Mommy showed me how to change her diaper and all, it was fun.



But as the day wore out, the baby was just lying there and doing nothing, or crying when doing something. Didn't look like much fun, to tell you the truth, and I told daddy. He said that 6 months from now me and her would be taking a bath together. I was still hesitating. He said that two years from now me and her would be playing together in our room. I was not convinced yet. He said that 16 years from now I would get to meet her girlfriends. That totally did the trick. I hugged Kristinka and told her that I was very glad she was with us.

So, let's see how the next 16 years turn out. So far we've been taking it slowly - she is mostly sleeping, and I'm mostly riding my bicycle.

Sonia and me

Despite my tender age, I have already started exploring women. Daddy says that I am ahead of him - apparently, he had his first girlfriend when he was 6, and then he met mommy when he was 24. When I asked him what he did in between, he said that he studied and had no time for monkey business. Something tells me we will have to revisit this conversation when I am a bit older.

Anyway - about my women. When I was very little, the only woman I had eyes for - apart from mommy - was Johanka. We were filled with mutual passion, and over time our feelings developed into a real affection, as this picture demonstrates. We would exchange gifts: she would give me her pacifier, I would give her mine. Then we would quarrel to get our original pacifiers back. Like an old married couple. Johanka is very playful and I love to be with her. But I didn't want to get pinned down to one woman while I was still in diapers, so I started looking for other distractions too. After all, the heart is a lonely hunter.

By that time, I was ready to explore older women. Well, this need to be qualified: "older" relative to me. When I met Alexandra, she was 26 and I was 1, so she was 25 years older than me. To some people outside Hollywood such an age differance would seem unnatural. But we got on really great since the very beginning. She was beautiful and tender, and she would first hold me, and then I would hold her, while the other grown-ups were sipping coffee. When we got back home, daddy said that my behavior was unexcusable because Ali was the girlfriend of a friend. I told him that if he really is an economist, as he claims, he should believe in competition.

But of course, even if you have lived for 2 whole years, as I have, sooner or later you find your soul mate. Mine is Sonia. Before I pour out my feelings, let me start with the straight facts: Sonia is the daughter of mommy's and daddy's good friends Krassi and Francois, which means that like me, she comes from a mixed marriage. Daddy says that this is great, because if none of us is sure to which country we belong, it would be easier for us to belong to each other. Also, he says, it is great that Sonia's mommy is Bulgarian, as at least one of them will remember the recepe for liutenitsa when they grow old.

Now, to Sonichka. (By the way, I call her Nianu because she calls herself Nunia. People usually don't understand the logic, but I cannot hope to explain the mysteries of love to the ignorenti). She feeds me and she makes me hungry and she pushes me and she pulls me and she makes me laugh and she makes me cry and she runs to me and she runs away from me. She is a real woman, in other words, as daddy pointed out once. We have been through a lot together already: I first visited her when I was in my mommy's belly, then she visited me when I was 9 months old, then she visited me again in my new home in Frankfurt, then I went to Paris again to celebrate her second birthday, and then we skied together. We have even been naked in a bathtub!

Scandalized? Now how about this: we have even slept togeter. It's documented!

But of course, all our parents were around, to make it look socially acceptable.

And did I mention that Sonia is very elegant? Or chic, as her mommy says. Sonichka runs around like a sparrow in her short skirts and size-4 diapers and makes my heart jump. Oh, well. We both have had busy lives recently, with kindergarden and potty training and chicken pox and what not - and then grown-ups think THEY are busy! - and we haven't been together for quite some time, but that doesn't matter. We are bound by what no mortal can unbind. As daddy says, love is when you are looking together through bars and you don't feel in prison. Or was it when you eat chocolate bars in prison together? I never remember, he rarely makes any sense... Bonne nuit, Sonia!

Life in the US

Daddy is weird. I can't understand why he can't sit on his butt - he must travel the world constantly. His latest obssession has been to travel back and forth to some strange country somewhere on the other side of the Earth. That was fine for some time, because I was left alone with mommy without him interfering, hugging and kissing her, and all his other disgusting rituals which only I am supposed to do. But then he decided to take us with him. But it turned out to be fun. First of all, there is this thing they call an airplane, it's full of people who sit and puff and snore and massage their ugly old legs, but it's fun to crawl between them and watch daddy become red in the face when he has to apologize to the owners of the ugly old legs. Then, we lived in a small flat, much smaller than the one in Prague, and I had to indicate my claustrophobia by waking up every morning at 4 am. Mommy and daddy would take me to Starbucks to have coffee, and I would take a nap. Then they would take me to the center of the city which is full of very tall buildings and water and green and what not. They usually take me to this fountain where the water splashes in a very funny way, like when I make pee pee in my pampers, so I always laugh when I hear that, only daddy thinks it's because he's tickling me. Mommy is much more cultured, she takes me to the museum. Well, we never go inside, because she says we are not rich enough to pay for everything I would break. So we stay outsde and pose for the old ladies who stop and smile and say, oh, what a cute baby. Of course, what they really want is to have sex with me when I'm 20, but I will always only love mommy. What I really love about America is the little differences. For example, they say Big Mac instead of Le Big Mac. Also, they have these very deep swings that are super difficult to fall from if you are one of the little people. Of course, what they call the little people here are actually midgets, they have a political party and everything, but they are not little people, not really, they are just big people who pose as little people in order to attract attention. Thankfully, they never try to use those swings, so I have all them to myself, yupi!
Ah, and did I mention the tall buildings?
One thing that I must admit is that daddy picked a beautiful city. Chicago is on a lake and there are many many beautiful parks where we would go to have bbqs (this is american for roasted meat, americans like to sound like noone else, but they end up sounding so that noone else could understand them). There was a big park right next to where we lived, and this is the place mommy and daddy picked for our daily
meetings with their friends from the university (I don't understand why daddy still studies when he can do something useful instead, like buy me a new plastic car). In any case, the last time we did it, daddy invited all his closest friends and they ate and talked about stupid things and I played with the bike of one of them. They are a bizarre bunch - Bulgarians, Algerians, Greeks, even Americans. It is supposedly common, but why can't daddy pick proper French friends that would gain me access to women? But he says he does, and in fact I will meet one such woman soon. I can't wait! And this is my life in the US. If I have to summarize it - it's a place where noone looks at you strangely when you do stupid things.

Remembering Bojka

Daddy wanted to upload a story about our friends Krassi and Francois and one of my future wives Sonia who visited from Paris last month. He was too slow - and as he said, when you get slow and sloppy, misfortune strikes.

One of daddy's dearest friends, Bojka Dobreva, was crossing the street on a hot humid Friday last week. černokostelecká ulice - the street of the Black church. Knowing her - she was thinking about the future - the next Bulgarian folk dancing event she was going to organize; the next Bulgarian wine tasting trip; the next trip to Pirin, where she would sing with friends Moren sokol pie during the sleepless nights under the starry sky, like so many times before; the loving children that were to come. One step at a time, crossing an innocent street, marching through an innocent life.

Only there was no future. Because from the hazy distance came a rushing car, like the heavy hand of a forgetful God who doesn't know and doesn't care, and grabbed her away from us. It took four hours for the life to ooze away from her, for her soul to find peace. Life is an equation that death has so far failed to solve. And so is love.

Bog da te prosti, Boichice!