April 10, 2005

For an American whose lone source of information on Afghanistan was the television, a visit to capital Kabul revealed the truth

What comes to mind when we think of Afghanistan? A beautiful and sometimes unforgiving terrain and home of a resilient and strong people, or do we only think of this beautiful land as a staging ground for years of war, death and destruction?

I was ready to go and visit this land and answer these questions for myself. As an American travelling to Afghanistan, I had been labelled a freak by most of my friends and family. I knew there were risks, but these same concerns exist travelling through any country today, even my own country. Nowhere is safe anymore. So, as I was about ready to board my flight to Kabul, my nerves were running rampant and I had no idea what I would encounter.

I arrived and headed from the airport to my lodge. I was mostly stunned by the fact that this city had progressed far more than I’d ever imagined; they don’t show the good stuff on the news because it doesn’t sell. Shops of all kinds line the streets selling all types of products, from cameras to western looking wedding dresses.

It was a very cold, sunny Kabul day and the men were out with their chaddars elegantly draped around them and while women roamed in the traditional burqa, the children laughed and played. However, to my amazement, some young women were dressed in more modern fashion, wearing short leather jackets, jeans and even platform shoes.

Coming from the warmth of Karachi, the cold in Kabul was a chilling experience. That particular night it was seven degrees centigrade. We settled into what would be our residence for the next six nights and froze as the diesel heater was not working to its full potential and there was no one around to fill the fuel. But we had dinner at a very beautiful French restaurant, recently opened by a British gentleman. The food was fantastic.

On day two of this adventure I wanted to see the real Kabul. The driver came and I gave him an idea of the places that I would like to visit. I first wanted to see the infamous football stadium, the venue that witnessed so much death at the hands of the Taliban. I had seen the video of the killings so many times on news channels following the September 11 attacks that walking into that stadium was an emotional experience, which cannot be put into words.

I was pleased to see that the stadium is finally being used for what it was built for — sports. I saw young Afghan girls practising different games for a competition that was going to be held a few weeks later in Iran. It gave a sense of relief.

We moved through different parts of the city and that is when I finally saw what so many years of war had done to his beautiful place. Buildings bullet-riddled and bombed. So much destruction but yet, life in these areas goes on. It’s like the signs of vegetation that begin to appear after it rains.

The markets are bustling with activity. Jewellry shops light up using generators, money changers trying to attract customers, electronics vendors have large displays and there is even a street filled with vendors selling nothing but birds.

As we headed further out toward the mountains, on the outskirts of Kabul, I saw a stunning building that commanded my attention. It stood at the end of a wide road leading in from the city. This was the Darulaman Palace, the former home of the Afghan king. It was grand in size but totally destroyed.

Next door to the palace is the Kabul museum, which has been recently renovated with the help of the Aga Khan Trust for Culture and some foreign governments. We entered the museum only to find five pieces on display. It has been a long process of restoring the art destroyed by the Taliban and the place is slowly beginning to take shape. The museum must have been a fascinating place in its former glory.

Driving back to the city all we saw were shells of what used to be beautiful homes. Now I know where the media gets it’s footage from. They only generally focus on this part of town.

When we came up to Babur Gardens I could finally start seeing were the foreign money had been spent. The fruit trees, beautifully landscaped open spaces and elegant fountains are all being restored to their former glory. The view from the top of these gardens is absolutely breathtaking. The city surrounds you, yet there is peace and tranquillity. At a distance you can even see out to the towering snowcapped mountains. I tended to forget every once in a while that I was actually in Afghanistan.

We then began journeying out of the city of Kabul to a little mountain town called Istalif, which is approximately an hour from the capital and close to the Baghram airbase. Our journey took us through more markets just outside the city. At first I was a little concerned heading for a place close to so many troops but I kept going. As we pursued our quest to make it to Istalif the drive became more interesting. We drove through the Shomali Plains, a place that bore the brunt of the civil war between the Taliban and the Northern Alliance. This was the front line? There are no homes or a single tree standing, the colour is grey, and the people look tired and worn down. Some NGOs are spotted along the way, clearing landmines in this area, which is believed to have the largest concentration of them in Afghanistan.

Finally we turn off down a long dirt road that leads to the beginning of this mountain range. It is the first time I actually saw foreign military troops performing peacekeeping duties. We continued up the bottom of the mountain and turned off into a large open area. There I saw a house at the end, off the cliff that once belonged to Ahmad Shah Massoud and was destroyed by the Taliban. What a beautiful place this must have been. The amazing thing here is that I am in the middle of nowhere and I have full signal on my mobile phone, which was on roaming from Pakistan. We leave the area to encounter French troops. A rather surreal experience, because there were so many of them in convoys and we began waving to each other in passing. We spent about an hour walking in the area before we started to head back to Kabul.

When I returned to the city, it was time to do what us girls like to — some shopping. I headed to Chicken Street, the main shopping street in Kabul that mostly caters foreigners. They sell everything from “Karzai” coats to furniture.

When our four days were up it was time to pack to leave. That morning it was snowing. I was told at the reception that most likely the flight would not arrive from Islamabad due to poor visibility. Although everyone told us to give up the idea of leaving that day, we still insisted on trying to make it to the airport but deep down we knew we weren’t going anywhere for another two days. As we were heading out to a local restaurant with our bags enroute to the airport, we received a call informing us that the flight had been cancelled. So we brought back our belongings and checked in again and headed for the restaurant.

We thought we would try some local cuisine because since we arrived we’d only had continental food. We arrived at the restaurant and settled in the “ladies” section. At local restaurants, there is generally a section for men and another for women, couples and families. There were lots of kebabs and Mantu, which is the Afghani version of ravioli.

All the young Afghan girls were rather amused to see us there. They could be seen giggling from under their burqas. We were a group of two men and women. The two women, of course, happened to be the only ones with local currency. So as I paid the bill the giggling turned to confusion as to why the men were not paying the bill. We later realized that we may have given yet another boost to women power in Afghanistan.

After the snowfall, the day was stunningly beautiful so we decided it was time for another road trip. This time we to Paghman, which is about 45-minutes west of Kabul. As we drove further outside of Kabul the beauty was mesmerizing with the freshly fallen snow. We stopped along the way to see the reservoir and the Kabul Golf Club. Yes that is right, a real golf club. The ninth hole was rather interesting just next to the edge of a road!

Along the way we saw some Apache helicopters flying low above us, which is generally a sight you became used to. Only this time it was different when they started dropping flares during the afternoon. That was the first time we feared going any further. But we continued on course, and we reached Paghman. We couldn’t reach Paghman Gardens due to the recent snowfall so we decided to go to the town center and have some tea and oranges. No sooner had we stepped out of the van that locals surrounded us. They intrigued us and we found that they were even more intrigued by us. They were so happy to meet us and were thrilled at the concept of practising their English skills on us. I won’t ever forget the faces of the people I met that day and look forward to meeting them some day again.

We received confirmation at breakfast the next morning that our flight would take off that day, our sixth in Kabul. As I said my goodbyes to all the people I had met during our stay, I was sad. Sad to leave this endearingly beautiful place and its people. I left knowing that I will return soon.

Anyone who goes to a place like Kabul will have his or her own memories and feelings and experiences. I will always have a place in my heart for the people of this great nation who have endured so much, but yet keep living life to it’s fullest. I wish we could all do the same.

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