Eid Mubarak from Donkeystan!!

Well, where to start? I suppose by apologizing to my mother, for I have lied. I've been in Afghanistan for the last month. I don't know why exactly... just to say I was there? So far my travels haven't been about that and I'm depressed if that's what it's become. Or is it to continue on my quest of eradicating fear beyond the point of seeing real danger? What is real danger? I could meet as awful a fate as any in my hometown of LA. If my time has come then death or injury can't be avoided. So why spend a lifetime in anticipation of the moment it ends? I try to follow my heart and this time it led me here... I thought maybe the reason would become clear once I was here, but not really... that's all I can say. These are the thoughts that brought me here. I wouldn't even normally try to justify my actions but I can see the look on mommy's face right now and well, she deserves something. So, I'm sorry.

Anyhoo... it all started in Islamabad. I came to Pakistan yet again to see the northern areas which eluded me last year when I got involved in the earthquake relief. This year my luck wasn't much better. Planning to head up through the north and in to China I started at the obvious place... the Chinese Embassy. Unfortunately people in these parts take their holidays pretty seriously and the embassy (and the Chinese land borders!) were closed for an entire week for National Day. Not being able to bear Islamabad for another minute I found myself on a bus towards Afghanistan. A bus that would put Greyhound to shame by the way, Pakistan has some serious buses floating between the major cities.

Last stop is Peshawar... I passed through here last year but this time was getting my Afghan visa and arranging permits through the dangerous tribal areas near the border, through which you're required to travel with an armed guard. Many people come here for a small taste of the outlawed lands... they get excited by the prospects of an armed guard, an open gun and drug market where you can by AK-47's and heroin and hash by the buttload, and catch a glimpse of the distant and infamous Khyber Pass. And a select few take the plunge and continue on through to the other side. I've met less than 10 travelers in my time here but more than 10 strange looks, most notably from expats.

I won't go deep into their lives, but I will say that they often function on a completely different level than any others here. Living behind high walls, traveling in heavily armed convoys and armoured vehicles, while to some degree a necessity, seems to really add to their level of fear and separation from the Afghans, and therefore, in my opinion, reality. I made it from Peshawar to the Khyber Pass just fine, but at the border met two UN workers also crossing at the same time. When I told one of them that I was heading in as a tourist he launched into a long monologue about the dangers, and told me, and I quote: "This is your first time to Afghanistan and it will be your last. You won't come out alive. Go outside and think this over, you're making a grave mistake." Naturally not the words you want to hear, but I've talked to enough people online about Afghanistan and I know what the general attitude and consensus is among him and many of his peers. It was very interesting insight into his world of fear. I kindly reminded him that he was the one traveling in an armed convoy, which the majority of recent attacks have been targeting. I opted for the local bus and kept my head low.

Kabul is an interesting city, it feels like it must be changing by the second. Much of the city has been destroyed through various wars and parts of it feel like a wasteland. But a few kilometres a way is the new town where I'm staying, with new hotels being built and old ones renovated, and glitzy shopping centers competing with internet cafes in numbers. Mobile phone and internet weren't in existence during Taliban rule, so it's amazing to look around and see the growth in just a few years. Not to mention the restaurants - such a large community of expats and military have spawned a whole level of amenities that most Afghans don't have access too. And my knack for ending up in the fanciest place in town on the first night in a country harks back to Rwanda, if you recall. This time it was L'Atmosphere, an upscale French restaurant/bar/hangout catering to foreigners, and the place of the moment for many of the expats. Am I really sitting in freakin' Kabul right now drinking a Corona Light and browsing over a $5/plate dessert menu that includes crepes and creme brulee and watching people take advantage of the wireless internet on their laptops? More importantly, is life ever what you expect it to be?

It turns out Afghanistan is exactly what I (un)expected. Is there destruction and war? Yes. Am I constantly threatened by it? Not really. Is there Coca Cola and french fries? Yes. Shitty Indian soap operas on the satellite tv's? Absolutely. Dubbed in to Persian? Unfortunately. Smiles? Everywhere. Strange looks? Also. Heard any bombs? Two. Was I in danger? Not really. Chances of being at the wrong place at the wrong time? Slim. Am I naive? Maybe.

My Pakistani friends were also concerned about me traveling here (in usual style in this part of the world neighboring countries tend to warn you about the next country you're headed to). Amjad told me he was sending Djinns along with me for protection. Another friend Ahmed said, and I quote: "Please take good care of yourself while you are in Afghanistan and Peshawar as these places are notorious for Homosexuality. CIAO another mind blower haan? But don't you worry, you can get one metal underwear with digital combination lock from Saddar Bazaar at very reasonable rates. Pathans are pretty good at inventing things."

I will say that, for the most part, Pakistan hospitality doesn't extend through the Khyber Pass. My last memory of Pakistan was of my friend Imran. I was visiting him at his shop in Islamabad, and I ordered some french fries. I waited for him to go to the toilet and then quickly paid for my food to avoid any arguments. Instead I greatly offended him by taking away his chance to do something for me, and he launched into a passionate monologue aimed at all of the restaurant employees, reminding them that I'm a guest in their country and they should all be ashamed of themselves for letting me pay. I got my money back. In Afghanistan some people will not only charge you for the fries, but will charge you triple and then maybe even try to stick a fry up your ass as you're leaving. Well okay, not really the french fry salesmen but certainly the taxi and minibus drivers. Some of the greediest muthas I've had the displeasure to meet.

In general things are pretty expensive here relative to other Asian countries and considering it's current state. Or maybe because of it's current state. Some of the locals blame it on the foreign aid workers who come in and spend a lot of money, pay whatever is asked, and drive prices through the roof. One hotel owner said his rent has more than doubled in the last few years. A hotel room here is costing me $10 a night and is of similar quality to a $2 a night hotel in India. Not to mention the dollar itself, it's as much a valid currency here as the Afghanis, and people are hungry for them.

Import stores abound... you can get just about anything you can think of here. I've taken advantage of the peanut butter and Cheeze-its, but left the Chicken-in-a-Biskit alone. You can read about the 'Bush Bazaar' here:
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/nationworld/2003291377_bazaar06.html

Back to my first night in Kabul, I met a couple of interesting people. One was a guy traveling across Afghanistan on a horse. Can't say that I would have the balls for that. A lady I met was far less interesting though. She told us the story of how earlier in the day a little girl came up to her asking for money, and reached down and touched her feet (a common way to show respect in many parts of Asia), to which she responded by threatening to hit the girl if she ever touched her again. She was truly appalled. What truly appalled me was that this girl was a journalist, responsible for reporting well-informed news and information back to the world. I can only hope that she was one of a kind and that the rest of them aren't so out of touch. I refrained from asking her what she thinks qualifies her to be here or why she would even want to come. I also refrained from calling her an insensitive bitch.

Anyhow, I visited a few more cities and some gorgeous surreal lakes... it was all beautiful... beautiful people, amazing landscapes, wonderful big mosques and one of the best call to prayers that I've heard. I went to Bamiyan and saw the site of the Buddhas that were destroyed by the Taliban - once the largest Buddhas in the world, now just a hole. You can see the pictures for all of that, I don't need to describe it to you here! Notice the abundance of donkeys!!! Their in almost every picture! I wonder if they make good pets, I might bring one home...

The last few weeks have been dominated by Ramadan, the holy month of fasting, which ends with Eid ul-Fitr, roughly the Muslim equivalent to Christmas. A weak and tired society has suddenly burst back to life over the last week eating as much as possible and generally celebrating in their new outfits which has been a fun atmosphere, with the exception of everything being closed for the entire week of Eid! More fun for the locals than visitors I think. I rejoiced yesterday when life finally returned to normal. Anyway, Eid Mubarak!

Here's a video clip of the call to prayer in Herat... not the best recording, but still nice to listen to. He was at his best in the early morning before sunrise, when the city was quiet and his voice fresh - it would echo loudly and could be heard for miles around. I wish I'd had gotten up early and recorded that one but it will just have to live on in my memory. And yours if you ever make it to Herat.



If you're a real Azan junky then I suggest this other video from Mecca that I found... better recording and beautiful...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYGVaclspl4

Mom, I'll be safely back in Pakistan sometime tomorrow, take a deep breath.


XOXO Wes