After working in the east African country of Malawi for two weeks, an unexpected 30 hours in The Netherlands was a world of nearly polar opposites. A walk around Amsterdam, a train to Maastricht, carnival celebrations and snow. This was taken in Utrecht, in the all-too-brief minutes between changing trains, bound for Schiphol on a Sunday afternoon.
The first bombs fell about 10 pm. Their arrival was no surprise — journalists left the city two days prior. Residents gathered in Cold War-era shelters as the air raid sirens wailed and radio reports warned of the need for gas masks. The state-run television station blinked out. Explosions erupted around the city and the lights went black.