Through three flights over two days Don and I have made our way back to New York. The long plane rides gave me a chance to reflect on our time in Afghanistan and sort through all of the intense and varied experiences we had along the way.
We have spent much of our time in Afghanistan meeting with friends and family of Dost. One person he was eager to introduce us to was his cousin Zarghuna Walizada, the president of Tac Taz, an Afghan freight shipping company based in Kabul. Walizada is a model business woman with a truly impressive background. She founded the company and has been working as a professional for the past 18 years. During the Taliban period she fled to Pakistan, where she continued running her business remotely. When work demanded face-to-face meetings she would come to Kabul secretly, wearing the required burqa, which shielded her identity, and held covert meetings in hotels and homes.
After a week in Mazar-i-Sharif we headed to Kabul for the last few days of our trip in Afghanistan. Our first stop in Kabul, before even dropping our bags off at our guest house, was the Russian pool. We were meeting with a collective of Afghan and Australian skaters called "Skateistan," for a dusk skate. Since Kabul has no skate culture, and no skate parks, the skaters in this newly emergent collective skate at parking garages, empty lots, and on this evening, at an eerie emptied out swimming pool on a hill overlooking Kabul. The pool was built by the Russians during their stint in Afghanistan. The pool's high dive, nearly 30 feet up above the pool basin, looks as if it's the highest point in Kabul. The pool also has a blood-soaked past - the Taliban used it as an execution site during their reign. Today it's been abandoned and is where people come to smoke hash in seclusion. On Friday nights dog fights are hosted here. And now there are skaters too.
As a follow up to my last post on the beauty of Mazar-i-Sharif, I'm including some pictures here of the ancient Blue Mosque in the center of the city. The mosque is the city's, and one of Afghanistan's, most famous landmarks. In person this sprawling and mosaic-tiled mosque, garden and courtyard complex is truly stunning. One element that makes it even more magical is that thousands of white birds descend on the mosque each morning.
During our week in Mazar-i-Sharif I really fell in love with the city. The whole place, especially just before dusk, is enshrouded in this really soft, beautiful light. For being in a desert climate, the city is surprisingly colorful. The buildings are brightly painted, but everything is faded a bit from the strong sun. So all of the colors are more pastel than they are bold. The dust in the air creates a dreamy sort of haze too. Really, it's a pretty phenomenal place.
Ever since we arrived in Afghanistan I've been surprised by the warmth and genuine hospitality that has been extended to us from almost everyone we've met, particularly the women. Even though most of the women in Dost's family do not speak English, they have used every opportunity to try to communicate with me, they have welcomed me into their quarters of the house, lent me clothing to wear to the wedding, and trustingly dropped their children in my lap to play with. So I was surprised when my male travel companions told me that they felt completely ignored by the women we've met.
Today we drove out to Balkh, a rural region about 30 minutes outside of Mazar city. It was here that 
during the Taliban period poppy plants grew as far as the eye could see, supplying the raw material for drugs like opium and heroin around the world. After the fall of the Taliban, the West pressured the local government to destroy these fields, which they did quickly and efficiently. The destruction of the fields stemmed the flow of poppy in the global market, but it also eliminated a major source of income for the area. According to the Provincial Council president for Balkh Province, Farhad Azimi, the West has not done enough to help the province transition into new industries. Only a few people owned land where poppy was grown, but they employed many farmers and shopped in the local stores. Now that revenue stream is gone and as a consequence the people of Balkh Province are living on much lower income.
Dost never knew Afghanistan as a place that produced it's own pop culture. However, in the seven years since he's been gone a new entertainment industry has begun to emerge. When we were standing in a photo store, getting Dost and Fahima's pictures for their marriage certificate, I asked Dost about a music video blaring from a TV in the shop. Dost told me it must be an Indian band, only to be corrected by our translator, Shoib, who has lived in Afghanistan throughout the past few years while Dost has been in the States. "They're Afghan," Shoib insisted. "Look," he said pointing to the backdrop of the pop video, "it's Kabul."
Continue reading "Afghanistan: The Emergence of Afghan Pop Culture" »
Today we visited the Red Cross facility in Mazar-i-Sharif where Dost was first treated after he became paralyzed from Guillain-Barre Syndrome in 1999. Dost was eager to reunite with Dr. Paul Hendrickx, the Belgian physiotherapist who first cared for him. Dr. Hendrickx sat, catching up with Dost for about an hour, then gave us a tour of the grounds. His facility is entirely dedicated to rehabilitation for people with disabilities.
Last night was the big climax of Dost's return to Afghanistan - his wedding to Fahima. He and Fahima had been neighbors in Mazar-i-Sharif, and in his absence she maintained a close relationship with Dost's relatives who stayed behind in Afghanistan. She and Dost continued their relationship over the phone and became closer over the years. Eventually Dost asked her to marry him and she said yes. The wedding was the focal point of his trip back to Afghanistan.
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