afghanistan pt. II (winter 2020)

Guess who's back?

Just realized my last post was nearly a year ago. So many things have happened ever since, it would be impossible to mention all of it. As I've decided to focus mostly on Afghanistan, I will skip the time I spent in Pakistan (March 2020 – end of July 2020). 

Kabul in winter

After a sudden leave from Afghanistan in December 2019 I returned 2 month later, jobless, free, happy and ready enough to dedicate remaining time on my visa (and additional one-month visa, that was not totally legal to get) to explore as much of the country as I could. 

First week I'd stayed in my beloved Kabul, visiting not many places but spending a lot of time with previously known people and meeting new ones who eventually became a Kabul Crew. 

I made a solo trip to Panjsher (Shah Masood province, just 2 h away from Kabul), which stirred a minor scandal among local authorities. I'd arrived alone, in a shared taxi, with no SOP for foreigners in Afghan (aka bodyguard, private vehicle, interpreter, etc). Had to explain all of this behaviour during an hour long kind-of-interrogation (nobody got angry, rather surprised of my way of travelling). Saw the famous Masood's Mausoleum, shed a tear over the life of this person (not glorifying anyone, did the same in front of Raziq's grave). 

I went to Kunar, to visit a friend whom I've met months before in Kabul. Stayed there for a couple of days, travelled to a few districts, Afghan-Pakistan border (which turned out to be a picnic place for many locals), heard a few Kalashikov shots (and night shooting from a neighbouring village, which was a hiding place for Daesh fighters). Even slept on a Kalashnikov (haven't realized until the day after, and then understood why the pillows were so hard). 

Herat Citadel

Months later I saw a documentary presenting Kunar as a Taliban infested and ultra-dangerous district. Well, what I have seen was a green and semi-mountainous place with a lot of valleys, rivers and somehow conservative Pashtun community (very few women on the streets and if so, only in burqa or abaya). 

Afghan Banksy? 

Herat glass makers 

The first hours/days there were pretty tense because of my bad idea about Pashtun people, somehow imposed on my by others who probably have never been really exposed to Pashtun culture and people. Further on, my image of this ethnic group drastically changed after spending more than 2 months among Pashtuns in Pakistan. Radical, but very hospitable and guest-oriented people. Till now I am quite ashamed I haven't learned Pashto language. 

Then, there was Herat. A city known by me from "Thousand splendid suns" by Khaled Hosseini. Historical city, for unknown reason often ignored by travellers who prefer going (flying) to Kandahar. I stayed around 10 days in Herat, tried to see as many famous places as possible. Got into the Citadel on a ticket for locals (30 Afg vs. 500 Afs for foreigners). Unfortunately I broke my rule and took a plane from Kabul to Herat (tried to go by land but the bus drivers would let a single woman go), and then came back flying too (@%$###%!). 

Masood's Mausoleum

Afghan-Pak border

Mulla's Omar Mosque

Final trip of the winter "holiday in Afghanistan" was Kandahar. I just tried to visit as many places as possible and I happen to find a CouchSurfer over there who helped a lot with getting a ticket (which as previously mentioned was impossible to buy by a single female passenger). We made the burqa trick and I quickly sneaked into the bus (so called 404 or maybe that was 580 – the newest version of coaches in Afghanistan) directly from the friend's car, who dropped me to the bus station (I went there one time on my own, during day time, and immediately became notorious; so I preferred not showing my face to anyone there). 8 hours night ride on the bumpy road, 2 mg of clonazepam to fall asleep and stay normal (and I was on apparently the most dangerous road in Afghanistan), one 10 min Taliban checkpoint (a guy comes inside the bus for a second, checks who's there and leaves, probably to collect the "fee" from the driver). When the bus stopped for the checkpoint I was just annoyed because of waking up and everything happened so quickly that I didn't even have time to be nervous). Got to Kandahar at 4:30 am and being totally ashamed I called and obviously woke up my CS host. Still in burqa I found a Dari speaker who explained the address to a Pashto speaking driver. Night, empty roads, GPS suddenly not working, me having no idea where I am or where I am going, just left everything in the hands of destiny. What happened in the end? I safely arrived the the destination, after looking for a alley for quite some time, got picked up by my host and crashed for a few hours. 

I stayed with the family, women only (the host was mostly at work), saw and learned the insides of the Pashtun house life.

I went out (in abaya – long black frock and face covering cloth, with only eyes visible), to see the historical city centre; mostly mosques, bazaar, general Raziq's Mausoleum, got a few "souvenirs", got mistaken for being Iranian (a flattering thing to me, as my Dari that time wasn't so good), participated in the first this kind of gathering in Kandahar or probably the whole country – IT/Google related meet up for students of Kandahar University, where girls were also giving speeches (which is quite unlikely in Pashtun communities), and Dari, Pashto and English were being used. 

    The places I've seen is one thing. The more important to me, since many years back are the people on the way. The stories, funny ones, sad ones, irritating ones – I can't even put in the words. The amount of help, support and kindness I've received can never be expressed by words. And despite Afghanistan being a war zone for more than 40 years, its people are still amazingly hospitable and friendly. It's not the hatred towards foreigners, it's just bad experience and lack of contact with them. Same as Europeans or other Westerners tend to be afraid of Muslim people, basing their knowledge on media and its (often fabricated or exaggerated) propaganda. The people I've met, even the ones who have never even seen a foreigner were curious, sometimes shy, sometimes awkward but never rude or aggressive. 

 Many asked and still ask me, why I am in Afghanistan. And I still reply the same thing as I did since I came here the first time. To see this mysterious, hidden and undiscovered place. Understand its people, history and culture and share the positivity with other who are interested in Afghanistan, have wrong idea or lack any idea about it.