AFGHANISTAN- Kabul Round Two- The Expat View.

Kabul Afghanistan

August 2012

The Calgary Crew in Kabul

In my earlier visit to Kabul I was introduced to the nuts and bolts of Afghan life. I drank chai, dined on rice Pulao, smoked sheesha and discussed at length with as many of the Afghans as I could. I took their local transport, little imported auto-rickshaws from India, the beat up shared taxis, donkey carts and walked as much on foot as possible around the streets and building blocks of Kabul.

The tomb of Babur, Babur Gardens, Kabul.

My experience in this city was so positive, and I was welcomed openly by all those I met as I showed in my early posting on Kabul. I however had a repeated comment given to me by Afghans, a rather sad comment, "You are one of the few white men to ever speak with us". The Afghans repeatedly told me that despite the massive international presence here by the United States and their allies, rarely do the Afghans get to meet foreigners. I asked myself, where do these foreigners reside? Where can I find them? What do they do in their free time?

Regardless, they say god works in mysterious ways. I finish a day exploring the last sites of Kabul that I missed on my earlier ventures to the city and I book my airline ticket to Herat, as the overland route was impossible, or so I was told by all Afghans I met. I come home to my hotel and I am in the elevator of my hotel, a new hotel this time, as Mustafas had shut down, as the ownership and work force had gone home for Eid. I see a man in the elevator, I greet him, "Asalam Aleykum", he responds in perfect English, "You are an American?". I say, no no, I am from Canada. He says, "ohhhhhhhhh I am off to an expat bar, run by a Canadian, you should join me". I am stunned for a minute, as drinking alcohol is strictly illegal in Afghanistan, not to mention the thought of a Canadian run bar there?????... hmmmmmm, well I thought about this for all of two seconds, changed my clothes and went with him.

On the road back from Baburs Garden to central Kabul

It was here that I would discover a window into the life of the expats of Afghanistan, a rather strange scene I must say, but interesting non the less. We enter into the compound, are searched by the guards and asked as to our occupation and who we know. The man I am with is an ethnic pashtun, but he had been educated in the UK, and thus worked often with expats. He spoke to them and they let us pass.

I then discover a compound courtyard full of expats drinking whiskey, wine and plenty of beer and a bar literally covered in Canadian paraphernalia, I felt like I had arrived at Hudson's Taphouse, except there was hardly any girls in sight, lol.

Traffic jams.

Canadian Expat Bar, Kabul.

I sat down and met a German expat, who was working for the German foreign affairs office in Kabul. He explained to me how he has to sneak out and dress like an Afghan just to meet Afghans, as the policy guarding the expats here are strict beyond anything, as the danger level is so high.

We get to chatting, and he explains to me the German governments goal to eventually build a German international school in Kabul. I thought this to be an impressive goal, and I have to say that the Germans outlook on what to do in Afghanistan I seemed to align myself with. The American military action, as I have mentioned is of course necessary, but without more long term measures for the country I do not see a lasting solution, or a victory over the Taliban or Islamic extremism. My new German friend fully agreed.

The night progressed and I met some more expats from the USA, Canada, France and the UK. All of which were interesting people, but many of them puzzled as to why on earth I had come to Afghanistan and many were just baffled by the way I had conducted my journey here. I had a man lecture me about how he has been in Afghanistan for five years and so on about his experience here. I asked him if he is ever allowed to interact with every day Afghans... Ie, go the market, a tea house or for dinner with them? He responded to me, NO NO NEVER, that is far to dangerous. I thought to myself, I understand that, but your job is to help build this country, how can you do that hiding behind these 20 feet high walls?

Myself, Sasha and Ryan living the dream.

I realize it is not that simple, but there has got to be ways to have dialogue with the Afghans? Because simply just training an army and a government does not guarantee a smooth transition of power come 2014. And with the type of expat operation I was exposed too, I do not believe that the average Afghan will buy into our ideas or their governments that easily.

Sunrise from the Expat complex in Kabul.

Sasha doing the climb up.

I came away from these conversations feeling more that we are occupying this land, rather than liberating or helping it. We are not "occupying" in the way the British or the Russians did, as our conduct and motives I believe are different. But the average person in Afghanistan does not seems to care to much for us, and it appears that they as I mentioned in my other posts are just going about their same routine, waiting for the trucks and flags of Europe and American to leave through their mountainous borders.

Although I have to say, I did have a very good time at this party. These very intense conversations always inspire me to drink many a beer. And in the process I managed to meet two young folks from Calgary, both of which actually live VERY CLOSE to my residence there. I was shocked, all this way across the planet and I run into a girl who lives in country hills blvd? And a guy who lives down town on 11th ave right by hudsons? Is this real? What in the name of heaven is going on here?

Their names of Sasha and Ryan, both of whom worked for the United Nations airline, flying people and supplies around Afghanistan. We partied all night together, discussing our experiences in Afghanistan, and it was so cool to meet some people more my own age, as the expats are usually far older and more formal than those of us in our mid twenties.

Time to go to Herat.

Sasha and I watched the sunrise from the top of her complex over Kabul, as she insisted I do not walk home until after sunrise, for fear of my safety. I was very thankful for this generous display of hospitality, that and she made me a care package for my trip to Herat, she truly is the flight attendant of the century.

A fantastic quote from a fantastic leader.

With promises of beers of plenty upon our return home, I parted ways with my new found expat friends and went home to my hotel to rest before my flight across to Herat and my final stop on this wild Afghan adventure.

Next up in the Afghan series is Herat and the journey to Iran.

Thank you to all the folks that showed me a very unique and different Kabul and informed me so much as to their work and lives in Afghanistan. And to Ryan and Sasha, we shall rock the scene in Calgary come the fall.

Goodbye Kabul!

Cheers to you all,

William Delaney

Central Afghanistan- The Children of Ghengis Khan

Central Afghanistan
August 2012

The smaller Buddha Niche, Bamiyan.

Afghanistan has so far been one of the wildest adventures I have ever undertaken. I prepared with everything I had for this trip, and while assembling this journey I knew this would be my most challenging component.

Transport options to Bamiyan. I suppose aid is getting through after all.

My first posting for this blog describes my trip to Asiatic Russia last year, where the inception for this very trip began. I saw in Russia a very unknown world, of hidden peoples that have been spread across the vast expanses of Asia because of the conquests of one great man. His name is Ghengis Khan, the leader of the Mongol horde of the 13th century.

My close friend Noor Mohammed. Helping me arrange transport to Bamiyan.

While in Russia I discovered a people called the Kalmyk's. These people are also the descendants of Ghengis Khan, and I discovered that the legacy of this man can be found through his descendents, many of whom are scattered throughout central Asia. The same holds true for the Hazara people of central Afghanistan. The Hazaras have a distinctly asiatic look compared to the other major tribes of Afghanistan. They have been made well known through the book and film "The Kite Runner", and this book played an important role in helping shape my understanding about the tribes of Afghanistan before my arrival.

On the road to Hazarajat.

I left Kabul early in the morning and went to the Hazarajat garage an area of town populated almost exclusively by Hazaras. It is here that mini-busses, trucks and shared taxi's go to Bamiyan, the main hub of central Afghanistan. I discover upon my arrival that there is two routes to get to Bamiyan, one through Vardak province, which is shorter, but occupied by the Taliban or the other, which crosses the Salang pass and goes over the top of Vardak and through more Hazara occupied territory.

Well the decision was easy for me, the tougher task was finding others to share the Taxi with me. I managed to find a few guys after about an hour who were willing to split the cost with me to take the longer route. The interesting details about the journey are to follow, but first I need to explain slightly what prompted me to come to this part of Afghanistan.

A great way to cool off after our close call with in the previous town.

While watching the discovery channel series "Journey's to the Ends of the Earth" by David Adams, I got to see a whole knew version of Afghanistan. David Adams is one of the few journalists to be able to make a documentary film in Afghanistan during the Taliban regime. The title is the "Lost Buddha's of Afghanistan" and the link to the documentary is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vI3F2pBgalk

For those of you interested.

Following in the steps of David Adams.

David Adams is truly an inspiration of mine, and in part a major inspiration for this trip. He focuses mostly on the people during his films and the lesser shown side of countries so vastly misunderstood. He showed me these giant Buddha's and really does his best to understand the people in Afghanistan, including the persecuted Hazaras.
The Hazaras are mostly Shia Muslim, the main branch followed in Iran and a branch of Islam found in most countries where Islam exists. However, the doctrine of the Taliban did not recognize Shiites as being muslim, it in fact believed them to be infidels. So these people were systematically persecuted under their regime and even today in the areas occupied by Hazaras you will be hard pressed to find anyone who sympathizes with the Taliban.

My new Hazara friends at the Buddhas.

Ok, so the background is there. Now back to the road trip. We head northwards towards Hazarajat and Bamiyan and about mid way through the journey my drivers phone rings, he blabs on a bit in Hazara and Dari, then he explains to me through the other guy in the back of the car that sorta speaks english that I need to lie down in the car.

I don't ask to many questions, as the guys seemed like it was rather urgent. I do as they say and we pass through a town rather quickly and after about ten minutes they say to get up and not to worry. I am then explained what has happened. They said that I, despite wearing Afghan clothes look like a Tajik, and not a Hazara. These two ethnic groups rarely travel with one another and so it would cause some suspicion among the locals in a town dominated by Pashtuns(one of the other major tribes and one that at times is more sympathetic to the Taliban). The guys explained that the Taliban had been active in the mountains of Vardak that day and had shot at a car full of Hazaras on the other route to Bamiyan. This is why the driver insisted I lie down, just in case someone was a Taliban spy and suspected that their was a foreigner in the car.

The largest of the Bamiyan Buddha Niches.

I have discovered that the Taliban has began targetting Afghans who work for foreign companies, accusing them of being sympathizers or traitors. And they roam the mountains surrounding the land of the Hazaras, trying to attack cars that bring food or supplies in from Kabul or elsewhere. So in a way despite no longer being in power they are still trying to cut off the Hazaras.

City of Screams.

Regardless we made it to Bamiyan and I was able to view the remnants of the giant Buddhas, or what is left of them. Shortly after David Adams made his documentary, the Taliban destroyed the Buddhas in an extreme fit of rage against any idols. Despite this being a historically important place, the Taliban sought to erase any memory of this other religion in their land.

The Taliban were ousted by the USA forces shortly there after.

Bamiyan Valley.

Touring Bamiyan was a blessing, the Hazaras like their other Afghan counterparts are lovely people and I managed to meet two young Hazara men who were working for foreign companies at the Buddhas and we took photos together and embraced the experience. The one man spoke excellent english and translated to me all about the Buddhas. Of course after the experience I was invited to dine at their guest house. A guest house right in front of the Buddhas, with a man whom is the head of the Bamiyan tourist board. I also met the mayor of Bamiyan there and we sipped tea together and discussed my experience in Afghanistan. I honestly felt like a five star celebrity at this guest house and naturally I was invited to stay, once again for free. Meeting these Hazara's and hearing their stories was so special. They had all sought refuge in Iran during the Taliban times, but had returned to their beautiful valley to make business again and try and rebuild Afghanistan. But they too are worried about 2014 when the USA pulls out, as they more than most in Afghanistan know the wrath of what may come back. These Hazara men talked to me about how important it was to educate the children of Afghanistan, as it is only through this that Afghanistan will ever know a future without war. They said to me, "the USA spends so much money training our people how to fight, we know how to fight, we have been fighting for thousands of years". In many ways I agree with them, but I know there is no simple solution in this complicated land.

Inside the BUDDHA Niches

I obliged this hospitality and the second day visited the city of screams, a place that Ghengis Khan burned the ground during his ravaging campaigns through Afghanistan. I  soaked up the peacefulness of this valley before having to head back to Kabul.

My new minders at the guest house and I crafted a strategy to avoid any altercations with the Taliban on the drive back. They suggests to break the fast at 3am just before sunrise and then depart immediately, as the Taliban will likely go to sleep until about 7 or 8am and then rise to go about their rounds in the mountains. Ramazan can be quite exhausting, especially while waging war against the USA, so we decided this was the best bet. We followed the plan, drove at full speed, I covered my face entirely in the all important Afghan scarf and we arrived in Kabul in no time.

The trip to Bamiyan was a fabulous detour and seeing the Hazara people and hearing their stories was a blessing. I can only hope and pray for the best of fortunes for them.

I sit now back in Kabul puzzling my experience once again, as I have so many times during this Afghan trip. I thought to myself, why are the Americans spending so much time on the Afghan military and not building some schools? Or creating employments for the wives of these soldiers. I believe that there needs to be military training, as someone needs to fight the Taliban. But why is there not more effort on the other fronts of society? I puzzle about this.... But I guess if I knew the answers I would not be teaching high school in Canada, I would be working for the US state department advising Hillary Clinton and President Obama.

Tomorrow will be my last day in Kabul before I fly across the country to Herat.

Stay tuned for the final chapter of Kabul and more of the exciting adventures to come here in the land of the brave.

The Beautiful Guest House.

Thank you to all those brave and kind Hazaras that made my trip to central Afghanistan so rewarding. It has to be the most educational experience I have had to date in this amazing country.

Sincerely,

William Delaney

Afghanistan- The Lion of the Panjshir

AFGHANISTAN- The Lion of the Panjshir

Ahmed Shah Massoud. The Lion of the Panjshir. Leader of the Afghan resistance against the Soviets and Taliban.

August 2012

I titled my first post in the Afghan series of this blog, the unconquerable land. No other part of Afghanistan holds more true to this statement than the Panjshir valley.

This is a valley north of Kabul where the ravages of war that scare so much of the country are not as easily seen. It is a terrain so difficult that even the mighty Soviet Union could not penetrate it.  Everyone I met in Kabul insisted that I visit this place, they told me it is one of the most beautiful spots in Afghanistan and it is also the home of Ahmed Shah Massoud, the man the Afghans call “The Lion of the Panjshir”.

I had no idea how I would get up to this valley, so I asked around and I was told about a market in the north of the city where people from the valley often come to buy supplies and trade some of their locally grown produce. I made my way to the market, asked if any of the vans were heading up to the valley and one man said “hey, come along with me, no problem” . I later discovered that was the only English he knew. I thankfully had in my passport a VISA for Iran, a VISA written in Farsi, which Afghans, if they can read, can understand. So I would usually show this document to Afghans, that way they could know my name, where I am from, my age and so on. It is a good starting off point. So my many thanks to the Iran embassy in Pakistan. I showed it to the driver, she smiled and said ….. WILLLLLIAMMMM? Baillie….? Delllllllannney?? Yes yes? I responded correct, tashakor(thank you in Dari). We were then the best of pals for the next 3 hours that it took us to reach the Panjshir.

I went through the check point at the entry to the Panjshir valley and it was here that I realized just why it was so difficult for the Russians to get through and near impossible for the Taliban.

 This valley is steep and narrow, offering little room for Red army tanks or Taliban pickups. The people are mostly Tajiks, the same ethnic people as the earlier country I visited, Tajikistan, and the Tajiks in Afghanistan were not as heavily involved in the Taliban regime or believed in their ideology.

This valley is green, lush with fruit pastures and the people seem far more open and relaxed here. After all, there valley and homes were never ravaged by the Russians, and they never had to suffer under the repression of the Taliban. I saw remnants of Red army tanks littered across the valley floor, testament to the great tactical skills of Ahmed Shah Massoud and his ability to trap these Russian tank convoys. I made my way up the valley, and visited the tomb of this great warrior. The Afghans here were once again thrilled to see me and tour me around the facility, explaining the heroics of their great leader.

I later realized that since I had hitch hiked all the way up the valley to see this tomb I would at some point need to hitch hike back. I wandered down the main road, sticking my thumb out at a mini-van, and sure enough in good Afghan style it stops. I get in and they start driving me to the next village. Afghans god bless you guys.

Inside the van is a driver, who speaks only Tajik and Dari, but in the back is a trio of guys doing work for John Hopkins University in the USA. They are all Afghans, but they all speak fluent English. Naturally as it is later in the day I am invited to dine and even offered the opportunity to stay the night in the valley with them. I wanted to stay, but I had plans to meet up with a friend in Kabul to hopefully make our way up into Central Afghanistan, so I needed to get back. They understood entirely and in good Afghan fashion arranged me a ride back to Kabul. I tried to pay for the food, or the ride, and they laughed and explained to me that when you are a guest in Afghanistan you are to be treated as if you are their brother or their son. I accepted and was on my way back to Kabul.

The Panjshir valley has not been kind to invaders, but the people of this valley are kind to those that come to them in peace and in respect. I find it fascinating how these Panjshiri people could smite the mighty USSR and crush the Taliban, but would offer me a room in their home at the drop of a hat. It is just a fascinating complex in this country, a mind set so ancient and so deep that over the course of my entire life I will never fully understand.

I am safely back in Kabul, and my day trip the Panjshir has showed me once again the true hospitality of these warrior people.

Tomorrow, inshallah I shall set off for an adventure to central Afghanistan, the land of the Hazaras (descendants of Ghengis Khan) and the giant Buddha’s of Bamiyan.

Thank you to all those that hosted me in the Panjshir valley and made this incredible experience possible.

Sincerely,

William Delaney

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