So Kabul turned out to be a fantastic start to the Afghan adventure and now it is time to head Northwards, to the city of Mazar-e-Sharif and Balkh.
My Afghan comrades insisted that the Northern highway was safe for ground transit and that share taxi's could take me the whole way in under 8 hours "inshallah" for about 20 dollars after a bit of good haggling. Needless to say, I arrived at the car park on the northern outskirts of Kabul and I was in for one heck of a whirlwind adventure. I arrived first at the wrong park, lol. This park went East to Jalalabad, and with the state of the Pakistan/Afghan border I was in no mood to head that way. I then had to explain my desire to get to MAZAR, but I found a young Pashtun boy who spoke good English and he guided me to a local taxi who would take me there. When I asked how he knew English so well, he said "I love American movies!", I laughed and went on my way, kids can be so amazing, even in the craziest of places on earth.
Arriving at the Mazar parkade was a breeze, and after a bit of haggling, with the added assistance of a man who spoke excellent English and was in my car, we went on our way.
The North road to Mazar goes through the Salang Pass, which has an incredibly long tunnel and a stretch of road not fit for any car, but these guys make it daily. As we drove the highway I saw military bases, helicopters over head, small villages, plenty of live stock and some of the most beautiful mountains and river valleys I have ever laid eyes on. It was a fantastic drive, and we stopped regularly to sip chai and eat fruits from the local villages, as since we are "travelling" we can abstain from the fast of Ramazan.
Before I knew it, we had arrived in Mazar-E-Sharif, the Afghan city of the North and one of the first to fall to the Russians in 1979. Here in Mazar I am not far from the Uzbek border and many people that make overland through Afghanistan will first enter here as opposed to Kabul or Kandahar.
Mazar was DUSTY and HOT! At least compared to Kabul. We descended down the mountains of the Salang Pass and arrived on this hot dusty plain, a plain that has hosted a series of battles in both modern and ancient times. It is said to be here that Alexander the great married Roxanne, his Afghan bride and on these same plains that great armies have come to pass, including the likes of the Persians, the Mongols, the Kazakhs, and the Russians.
But the main highlight of Mazar is the Blue Mosque. It is said to house the remains of Imam Ali, one of the successors of the prophet Mohammed. I visited this mosque and I have to say, the welcome I received was phenomenal. The Afghans were once again so thrilled that I had taken an interest in one of their holiest sites, and doing it all alone was again a bit strange to them. One of the men tending to the mosque spoke decent English and was curious as to why I was interested in being here. I explained to him I was fascinated by the similarities between Christians and Muslims and coming here to me is in a way a sort of pilgrimage. He was then thrilled and insisted that I join his family in breaking the fast after night fall, which I did and I was treated to only the finest Afghan cuisine. A true treat to start of the journey in the North of the country.
The next day my new found friends from my hostel in Mazar showed me about the city. We visited markets, went about seeing some of the fine construction taking place of this bustling city and I sensed a lot of optimism in this part of the country. I watched the sun set over the mosque from the balcony of my hostel and hearing the famed call to prayer at that moment I quickly realized how ancient and holy this city is, what a special experience it was.
The following day I woke up early and headed to Balkh. This is a famous silk road city. A city that is home to an ancient fort, built by none other than Alexander the Great. And anyone who knows me well enough will know that I LOVE Alexander the Great and I am just fascinated by what he managed to do over here in central Asia.
Balkh is also the home of Zoroaster, the founder of the Zoroastrian faith, the first known monotheistic faith in the world, and the ancient religion of Persia at the time of Christ and the Romans. I could not help but be beyond excited visiting this small town. I saw many of the traits of Afghan city life, but with a smaller country feel, that and standing up on the forts high walls watching German Army convoys pass by offered some strange mixed feelings.
I wandered around this ancient town all alone, un-guided, and no one seemed to care. The children ran by shouting out words in Tajik and Dari, laughing about. Women went about their daily chores and the men sat around in the shade waiting out the rest of the Ramazan fast. It had a very relaxed feel to it. People would smile and wave, wish me peace and invite me into their shops. I thought to myself, this town has changed little in thousands of years, despite the active miltary presence all around them, they seemed like they could care less. It seems Afghans are just used to this by now, the only one slightly overtaken by it was myself.
After taking in all this history packed into one tiny little town on the edge of Uzbekistan I decided it was time to head back to Kabul. I returned to spend the night in Mazar, break the fast and leave for Kabul first thing in the morning.
I did just this and the next morning I got into a shared taxi for what would be one of the strangest drives I have had while travelling, ranking up their with my experience crossing Guinea-Conakry in the fall of 2010.
We start driving, and no one in the car speaks English, it is pretty funny, except one guy, he sorta does, and he sure wants to practice. We get to chatting, the usual stuff; Where are you from? What do you think of Afghanistan? Are you Married? Why nott??? And what is your religion?
Now I have been asked about my faith by many people around the world, many of whom have different beliefs than I, and it has never been a problem. But this time I was in for one interesting conversation, one that had me a little worried I may have been dealing with a Taliban sympathizer or maybe someone who worked for or with them.
Once he discovered that I was not in the CIA, which he asked me a good 5 or 6 times, he proceeded to ask me a series of strange questions about western women, our views of marriage and then went on to say how Christianity is corrupt and the western world will be punished by his god Allah. I kept trying to remind him that Christians and muslims technically worship the same god, but it did not work. He said to me that the women of Afghanistan are the true women of Islam. I asked him if the women in Turkey, Jordan, Syria, Morocco, etc were not good muslims then for not wearing the all out Burqa and he then explained to me that those muslims were confused.
Regardless I managed to smooth the convo over by asking about his family and showing interest in his past life. He later told me how he dreamed to moving to Canada. I asked him why do you wish to move to Canada, he responded that his God Allah has instructed him to kill President Obama and that Canada is a good lauching point for such. I was then really scared and tried my very best to keep him happy for the duration of our trip. A trip that saw us get two flat tires, run over a dog, and not make it back to Kabul until after dark, 14 hours on the road as opposed to 8.
I realized that this man I met was a little crazy, but I refuse to let him taint my impressions of Afghans. I feel it is important to mention this experience in this blog, as it is one of the few times while travelling I was truly scared for what might happen to me and YES people like this do exist in Afghanistan and elsewhere in the world.
But the vast majorities of Afghans do not feel this way, nor behave in such a manner towards a guest. My experience with our media in the west is that this experience is the only one mentioned and all the other experience that I have had so far in this journey do not get mentioned. So for those of you reading back home, do a bit of compare and contrast if you like.
Afghanistan is off to one heck of a start. I am now back in Kabul and tomorrow I plan to embark to an area of the country that has not been conquered since Alexander drove his men through in winter 2300 years ago. A valley that the Russians could never take and the Taliban died in mass, the home of the great Afghan leader Ahmed Shah Massoud, the PANJSHIR VALLEY!
Thanks to all those Afghans that made the experience in the North of the country so special and took the time to feed me, house me and keep me safe.
Cheers,
William Delaney
My Afghan comrades insisted that the Northern highway was safe for ground transit and that share taxi's could take me the whole way in under 8 hours "inshallah" for about 20 dollars after a bit of good haggling. Needless to say, I arrived at the car park on the northern outskirts of Kabul and I was in for one heck of a whirlwind adventure. I arrived first at the wrong park, lol. This park went East to Jalalabad, and with the state of the Pakistan/Afghan border I was in no mood to head that way. I then had to explain my desire to get to MAZAR, but I found a young Pashtun boy who spoke good English and he guided me to a local taxi who would take me there. When I asked how he knew English so well, he said "I love American movies!", I laughed and went on my way, kids can be so amazing, even in the craziest of places on earth.
Arriving at the Mazar parkade was a breeze, and after a bit of haggling, with the added assistance of a man who spoke excellent English and was in my car, we went on our way.
The North road to Mazar goes through the Salang Pass, which has an incredibly long tunnel and a stretch of road not fit for any car, but these guys make it daily. As we drove the highway I saw military bases, helicopters over head, small villages, plenty of live stock and some of the most beautiful mountains and river valleys I have ever laid eyes on. It was a fantastic drive, and we stopped regularly to sip chai and eat fruits from the local villages, as since we are "travelling" we can abstain from the fast of Ramazan.
Before I knew it, we had arrived in Mazar-E-Sharif, the Afghan city of the North and one of the first to fall to the Russians in 1979. Here in Mazar I am not far from the Uzbek border and many people that make overland through Afghanistan will first enter here as opposed to Kabul or Kandahar.
Mazar was DUSTY and HOT! At least compared to Kabul. We descended down the mountains of the Salang Pass and arrived on this hot dusty plain, a plain that has hosted a series of battles in both modern and ancient times. It is said to be here that Alexander the great married Roxanne, his Afghan bride and on these same plains that great armies have come to pass, including the likes of the Persians, the Mongols, the Kazakhs, and the Russians.
The following day I woke up early and headed to Balkh. This is a famous silk road city. A city that is home to an ancient fort, built by none other than Alexander the Great. And anyone who knows me well enough will know that I LOVE Alexander the Great and I am just fascinated by what he managed to do over here in central Asia.
Balkh is also the home of Zoroaster, the founder of the Zoroastrian faith, the first known monotheistic faith in the world, and the ancient religion of Persia at the time of Christ and the Romans. I could not help but be beyond excited visiting this small town. I saw many of the traits of Afghan city life, but with a smaller country feel, that and standing up on the forts high walls watching German Army convoys pass by offered some strange mixed feelings.
I wandered around this ancient town all alone, un-guided, and no one seemed to care. The children ran by shouting out words in Tajik and Dari, laughing about. Women went about their daily chores and the men sat around in the shade waiting out the rest of the Ramazan fast. It had a very relaxed feel to it. People would smile and wave, wish me peace and invite me into their shops. I thought to myself, this town has changed little in thousands of years, despite the active miltary presence all around them, they seemed like they could care less. It seems Afghans are just used to this by now, the only one slightly overtaken by it was myself.
After taking in all this history packed into one tiny little town on the edge of Uzbekistan I decided it was time to head back to Kabul. I returned to spend the night in Mazar, break the fast and leave for Kabul first thing in the morning.
I did just this and the next morning I got into a shared taxi for what would be one of the strangest drives I have had while travelling, ranking up their with my experience crossing Guinea-Conakry in the fall of 2010.
We start driving, and no one in the car speaks English, it is pretty funny, except one guy, he sorta does, and he sure wants to practice. We get to chatting, the usual stuff; Where are you from? What do you think of Afghanistan? Are you Married? Why nott??? And what is your religion?
Now I have been asked about my faith by many people around the world, many of whom have different beliefs than I, and it has never been a problem. But this time I was in for one interesting conversation, one that had me a little worried I may have been dealing with a Taliban sympathizer or maybe someone who worked for or with them.
Regardless I managed to smooth the convo over by asking about his family and showing interest in his past life. He later told me how he dreamed to moving to Canada. I asked him why do you wish to move to Canada, he responded that his God Allah has instructed him to kill President Obama and that Canada is a good lauching point for such. I was then really scared and tried my very best to keep him happy for the duration of our trip. A trip that saw us get two flat tires, run over a dog, and not make it back to Kabul until after dark, 14 hours on the road as opposed to 8.
I realized that this man I met was a little crazy, but I refuse to let him taint my impressions of Afghans. I feel it is important to mention this experience in this blog, as it is one of the few times while travelling I was truly scared for what might happen to me and YES people like this do exist in Afghanistan and elsewhere in the world.
Afghanistan is off to one heck of a start. I am now back in Kabul and tomorrow I plan to embark to an area of the country that has not been conquered since Alexander drove his men through in winter 2300 years ago. A valley that the Russians could never take and the Taliban died in mass, the home of the great Afghan leader Ahmed Shah Massoud, the PANJSHIR VALLEY!
Thanks to all those Afghans that made the experience in the North of the country so special and took the time to feed me, house me and keep me safe.
Cheers,
William Delaney
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