Adventures in Kabul

I was fortunate enough in June to get to attend one 5 day and one 3 day course in Kabul. When I first arrived I was a little disappointed at the thought of not having the opportunity to travel around the country, so I was very excited to get to the capital for 10 days or so. As always seems to be the case with travel, I met some amazing people from all over the world- Nepal, Germany, Portugal, Australia, Italy, England, Uruguay, Spain, Belgium, France... (I could go on..) I felt like a little kid driving through the city, staring out the windows in awe of everything around me. The international presence is largely felt in the amounts of MRAPs, armored SUVs, and UNDP vehicles driving around town. Traffic is insane, and the Afghans aren't afraid to take risks on the road. Children in their school uniforms walked around freely, and women wore everything from a full burka to skinny jeans, heels, and a simple head scarf. The streets illustrated the clash between traditional and modern, as donkeys carrying goods to market with a man sitting on a wooden cart in back clunked along right alongside toyotas zooming by.

I was so pleased to see some of my friends that I hadn't seen in months and met some others during the course. The course itself was on a base on the far end of town, a rather small and boring base. Luckily we were near enough that we got to tour the "Queen's Palace" and even got to hike up to an old Russian Officer's Club one day, enjoying spectacular views of the city in an eerily peaceful environment. All of this was amazing, and an experience which I won't forget.

One night after the course a few of us went to the only Afghan restaurant on base. They had hookah there, so we decided to try it. I asked the server for a hookah and he wanted to know what flavor we wanted to smoke. I replied, "what do you have?"... he gave a quick response of typical flavors... hmmm, I pondered, "give us your favorite!" A few minutes later he brought out some hookah. It was pretty good! The next time we saw him I asked what flavor it was, unable to put my finger on it. "Pink" he replied... "I'll bring you the box", he continued, noting our confused faces. He brought out the box- sure enough, it was called pink. I flipped the box over, reading the ingredients, looking for some clues as to what it was. Clearly written on the back: Made in the USA, Anaheim, CA. Hahaha, we laughed, glad we came all the way to Kabul to smoke hookah made in the States....

I had the opportunity to interact with an Afghan while I was there- he is about 24 years old, and very bright. He speaks great English (lucky for me, as my Dari is about as good as my father's Spanish) and knows Kabul very well. He told me about his family- he has a brother in school in Canada and a sister who got a scholarship to study in Turkmenistan. He explained how his mother is illiterate and told his sister that she should get the best education possible. When asked more about his family, he revealed that they are living in Islamabad. Why? Because in the past 10 years that the international community has planted itself in Kabul, prices, especially land prices, have sky-rocketed, forcing many families to leave. He spoke fondly of Islamabad, saying it is a great city and his family is able to live well there. He also said that it was a very short flight from Kabul to Islamabad so he is able to visit often. He is a very intelligent, hard-working, and forward thinking man and he was able to teach me a lot about his country, for which I am very grateful.

As we were driving to the airport to drop me off so that I could fly back "home", we were stopped by some ANP. One of the ANP officers came up to the passenger window where I was sitting, scowling. He motioned for me to show him my ID. I quickly flashed my ISAF badge and a slight smile. He started speaking in Dari with the Afghan man with me (who will remain nameless), a conversation which I could barely understand. Finally the driver said "Amerikay, Amerikaay", pointing out to the ANP my nationality. I half expected the ANP to pull us over and cause more problems after finding out I am an American. Instead, his face lit up. Grinning, he questioned me, "Amerikaay??". I nodded in agreement, yes, Amerikaay. He lifted up his hand, made a fist, and stuck it in the window. Hmmm, I wondered, as I lifted up my hand, making a fist as well. Yes. It's true. He proceeded to fist bump me, AND then lock it up (you know, bump fists, then rotate the fist while bumped). You can't make this stuff up....