road trips

      Last night’s conversations created some new uncertainties and sadness. Currently undergoing peace talks between US and Taliban may end almost 20 year old war but may as well cause even more problems and make unwanted changes to the present situation in the country. Some people don’t believe any kind of truce will ever bring peace to this country and would rather leave it for good.

I was suddenly struck how unnerving living in Afghanistan is. Every journey is a stressful experience (Taliban on the roads), every public gathering in Kabul is a risk (target for bombing). Constant flow of phone calls monitor every step of a person (I personally would receive up to 20 calls per day in Kabul, from different people who wanted to make sure I wasn’t lost, I reached the destination, I was still alive etc.). Nobody speaks about it but everyone knows that every “good bye” could be the last one heard.

      I know about the danger, I know that very bad things happen in this country. I don’t accept it, though. I don’t think about it, because if I did, I would never come to Afghanistan. And, again, my exceptional trust and belief in good people take over. I deny to accept that Afghan people are worse than other nations. That they hate foreigners and only want them dead. I refuse to believe that some ethnic groups are friendly and welcoming while with others you shouldn’t have anything in common.

     The only reactions from locals I got was curiosity, generosity, helpfulness and concern. Everyone was trying to help me, direct me, and ask about my opinion on the country. I got invited to various houses multiple times, for food or even for a night (I felt so sorry every time I had to refuse). Shopkeepers, sellers and drivers would make effort to make sure I understand what they tried to say (using body language). How could I ever say those people are bad, dangerous and vicious? Call me naïve and stupid but that’s how I am.

      I took a plane from Dubai to Kabul and then from Kabul to Bamyan. I was told this is THE ONLY way for foreigners and that the roads are impassable due to Taliban activity. There was a man sitting next to me in the plane who told me that “normal people don’t take planes”. That got me. I told myself I don’t want to be any VIP in this country (ironically there was some man from the government on the same plane, who was awaited by crowds at the airport and would give a speech straight after getting of the place). I told myself I will gather information about travelling by road and I will do the same.

      Every mention of my “road trip” places was welcomed with anger and disbelief. I’ve heard the stories of people being dragged out of cars, executed on the road side, being kidnapped etc. I was told as soon as I get on the bus some locals would call for the Taliban. I am not saying it doesn’t happen. I does. But not every day, not to every foreigner (as I found out later, it has almost never happened, also because usually foreigners don’t take public transportation, so nobody is looking for them there). Most of the checks of Taliban are aimed at people working for US, government or the army. If some lone foreigner, simply travelling in the country happens to be on the checked bus, then, well… shit happens.   

     It happened that the very same moment of my first thought of going to Kabul by road, the election committee travelling from Ghor to Kabul has stopped for breakfast in the school. After multiple discouraging phone calls, discussion and being scolded I decided to join them. Twenty minutes later I was sitting at the back of a Toyota Prado and 10 hours later I arrived to Kabul. Dressed in local clothes, wearing hijab and big sunglasses.

      As I had more than 10 days off until the school started again I couldn’t just sit in Kabul all this time and be accompanied by somebody every time I was out. I wanted to go to Mazar-e-Sharif – the city in the northern Afghanistan, around 8-10 hours by bus from Kabul. The idea, as usual, caused another scolding and anger. Coincidentally my friend was also going to Mazar the same day (in fact, 3 am in the morning) which made a perfect opportunity for me. At midnight the final decision was made and at 3 am I was in the taxi to the bus station where I would meet my travel mates.

Again dressed as a local, I was seated at the back of the bus (the last available tickets), didn’t speak much nor loud and for the most of the journey nobody noticed there was a foreigner on board. The trip was tiring more than anything, so any thoughts about danger were secondary. After 10 hours we arrived to Mazar.

       I made the way back in the same way, again coincidentally accompanied by the very same friend, taking the night bus and arriving to Kabul in the early morning. The way back to Lal was slightly more complicated because it required a few changes of transportation and my own arrangements. I was traveling on my own for the first time (which of course caused an avalanche of concern), first from Kabul to Bamyan and then (the safe road) to Yakavlang and finally to Lal. Made it all without a single problem, at two checkpoints we had passed I wasn’t even recognized to be a foreigner.

         I don’t recommend it. I don’t encourage anyone to do it. I made it, and I would do it again, though.