Northern Afghanistan- Where History Becomes Real

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

AFGHANISTAN- The Un-Conquerable Land

Afghanistan- The Un-Conquerable Land

August 2012

WELCOME to Kabul Afghanistan, the capital of quite possibly the most misunderstood land on earth. I am writing in review of my experience in this city, as tomorrow morning I shall leave here and go beyond to the north of the country.

I arrived in Kabul a couple days, flying in from Tajikistan. As we flew in I saw barren mountains, brown with the colour of sand, little to no civilization in site. I wondered, how can anyone live in this place? But as we flew into Kabul I began to see an expanding city stretching up the mountains and valleys than run from Kabul. I was excited and yet very nervous as that plane landed. We got off the plane, grabbed our bags and went to customs. The man said little to me, as my VISA is not technically tourist, it is just an “Entry” VISA, so I am not sure what he thought, I am just glad I did not have to explain my goals for  tourism.

I got out of customs and looked around…. Is there a bus into town? Where are the taxi’s? Is there an ATM? I only have 150 bucks in cash….. Where can I exchange for Afghani currency? Ohhhhhh Jeez, am I not prepared…….

Then out of no where a man says to me…”Hey Mr. American do you need some help??”. I explain what I need, and he helps me every step of the way, Afghans are so hospitable. He got me a taxi, negotiated my fare, told him where the International Bank was, and that I needed an ATM. Explained to the man where my hotel was. And before I knew it, I was on my way into Kabul.

As we drove through to the central part of the city, to my hotel, Mustafas, I noticed a WALLED city. Every building of any type of importance was surrounded by high walls. I have never seen a city so engulfed by security, but hey, after all there is a war here.

When I got all my details sorted out and got to Mustafas I was embraced by the locals staying there. For 20 bucks I night I got a room, a shower that worked sometimes and even a western toilet. It was truly paradise, lol. I also discovered that the young men occupying this hostel were all either university students, studying in Kabul or abroad, or were young professionals working for foreign firms. They encompassed all the major tribes of Afghanistan.

 There were Pashtuns, Tajiks, Uzbeks and Hazaras, along with one man who was a Turkmen, one of Afghanistans smaller tribes. They all spoke English and were from all different parts of the country and were similar ages to myself. I thought I had struck gold. We would dine each night after the breaking of the Ramazan fast, drink gallons of tea and smoke sheesha late into the night as I hoped to learn about Afghanistan and its extremely complicated history and current situation.

It took a couple days for them to trust me. They later explained a “foreign man” had come to the hostel, claiming to be Portuguese, but all the Afghans believed him to be an ISI agent(Pakistan secret service). They wanted to make sure I was not in the CIA before they opened up to much about their situations.

I managed to make the most of my first stop in Kabul. I asked many of the men at the hostel what places were safe to visit, where was there military activity and what could I do to minimize my risk. I discovered that Afghans are quite fair skinned in many cases, and with my dark brown hair and a bit of a beard, I could blend right in with the right clothes. So my new found friends took me shopping, got me some new pants, Afghan scarves and of course the all important Afghan VEST! I blended right in, and walked freely around town with my Afghan counter parts.

I learned so much touring Afghanistan with my new found friends. I was never able to pay for a taxi, when they found out I was from Canada and came as a TOURIST, the afghans were stunned and were thrilled I was interested in seeing them. I later learned that despite a massive international presence here, the westerners rarely interact with the average Afghans, whether it be taking cabs, drinking tea or eating with them. And being a culture built off of pride, hospitality, family and friendship, they were eager to meet other people and hear about what they thought about Afghanistan.

I was toured around Kabul. I climbed up on the mountains above the city, saw the gardens of Babur (the Afghan that conquered India and started the Mughal dynasty there), dined at various restaurants, visiting an old bird market, I saw children flying kites, playing cricket and people bustling in the local markets.

 I saw women in Burkas and in tight blue jeans, I saw men in modern suits and traditional shalwars. I saw Muslims and Sikhs, which surprised me, but hey they made war with the Afghans on several occasions and apparently get along quite well in the modern post Taliban era.

I loved the climate of Kabul, warm and dry during the day and cool and calm at night. It is said that Babur, the great Mughal king preffered his lovely Kabul over his newly conquered rich Hindustand(India). And he insisted he be burried back in Kabul, as opposed to his new kingdom.

I discovered, as to be expected that Afghans are very passionate about their faith. And I too am quite passionate about my Christianity. Coming to one of the most strictly Islamic lands may not seem a great way to improve or develop ones faith, but I became more devout being around these people. Christians are recognized as people of the book by muslims, as we follow the god of Abraham, as do Jewish people as well.

The Afghans embraced me and my faith and loved to discuss the doctrines of our faiths in healthy debate and were curious to learn, as I was curious to learn about how they interpret Islam. I came away very happy and more enlightened from my Afghan counterparts, especially from my meetings with an Afghan-Uzbek named Noor-Mohammed. Noor was about to leave to do his masters in India and was very well educated, and one of the most hospitable people I have ever met, so on my next visit to India, he will surely be looked up again.

I developed my itinerary here in Kabul, and made plans and transport arrangements for the North of the country.

Kabul will be my base and tomorrow I shall drive up through the Salang pass and visit Mazar-e-Sharif and Balkh to see some of the top highlights of Afghanistan’s history and modern situation.

Cheers to all,

William Delaney

Back in the USSR- Tajikistan

 August 2012.

So the side detour continues, as I attempt to reach the hindukush, the land of the Afghans.

I booked this flight with a gamble, I had no idea if a VISA would be granted on arrival, but I took a chance and things worked out for the better.

I then realized how truly blessed I was to be here, I was back in the former USSR! And not only that, but the furthest outpost of what Ronald Reagan coined, THE EVIL EMPIRE. I have visited all the European states of the former USSR, but I lacked the Caucasus states and that of central Asia, so this was in some ways a blessing in disguise, not only that but the irony of entering Afghanistan the same way the Russians did in 1979 made this all the more meaningful.

I met a fine gentlemen from Australia, Mr. Craig Beers. He was kind enough to let me split his apartment for the weekend in Dushanbe while I sought out ways to cross the Afghan border. It also happened to be his birthday, and this being a former Russian outpost, well let's just say there was plenty of vodka and good Russian beer to go around. I found that products I bought in Belarus and Ukraine were widely available in Tajikistan, kinda random, but it makes sense, including sparkling water, a rare commodity on the sub-continent and in China.

Regardless, Tajikistan proved to be a short, but fascinating little detour on the trip. Craig got his permits for the east of the country, I sought out as much info as I could about the border, which had closed all but one post due to drug smuggling problems and fighting between the Russian army and the Afghan insurgents/smugglers. I then realized that with the Russians struggling on the border, very few cars were willing to pay the Russians a big enough bribe to risk my security, so I had to seek out a flight to Kabul.

The man who booked my flight with Kam airways, a Pashtun Afghan turned out to be a blessed man, he took us all over Dushanbe, out for dinner, to his couple businesses and introduced us to all his friends. It was a treat and a great way to finish up in Tajikistan, which I shall surely again visit to see their incredible Pamir mountains on another trip.

I realized the extent to which a culture can be modified, and how the USSR, although it prided itself on "cultural tolerance" simply just russified everyone within its borders, and the Russians still control the security of Tajik borders, 20 years since the collapse of the USSR. The people are Tajiks, cousins of persians left after centuries of conquest and occupation, but they all speak Russian, no one reads or writes in Farsi or old persian. I discovered that of the 7 million Tajiks in Tajikistan, nearly 3 million work and live in Russia, sending money back home to boost the ailing economy. The people drink alcohol, many eat pork and few seemed to care much that it was Ramadan. It is interesting that the ideology of some is that to be "culturally tolerant" we must simply all be the same. I don't like that, and my father often tells me that this is the last era of distinct cultures as the world continues to globalize. I now know I must explore more of the last bastions of the former USSR before their ancient cultures completely disappear.

Regardless, I got a sense for how things go around Tajikistan, as photos of Putin and their president dominate, grand boulevards line Dushanbe, and proud monuments to the government stand all across the capital. I gotta say, these former communist states do get a few things right, or at least on the surface of the capital, the rest of the country I am sure is another story.

So here we are, one final step before Afghanistan. An I enter the same way many of the Russians did, by AIR. But I enter without bombs, chemicals or machine guns. I enter without an agenda of conquest as so many have before me. I enter it learn, but I have to say I am a tad nervous of what lies beyond the Pamir mountains of Tajikistan, much the same as I am sure many young Russians my age were back in 1979. I am about to enter the land of the unknown, where few travellers dare to go, and from the border where one of the greatest disasters in modern history played out.

Here I sit at the airport, finishing my blog and well it's time to go! Goodbye Tajikistan and the former USSR and say hello to Afghanistan.

Tune in soon for some updated photos from Tajikistan and the post from Afghanistan will be editing and available shortly.

Cheers,

William Delaney