The 4th of July in Afghanistan?

(revised from my first email update five days ago)

So. I never dreamed I’d be spending the 4th of July in Afghanistan, playing softball with Afghan girls, eating lamb kabob with mint and cilantro salad, or jerking along a dusty road with a view of the mountains around Kabul. But that’s exactly what I did today.

I arrived yesterday morning at 6 am, very excited. My hand was shaking so that I was having trouble filling out my visitor’s card at the Ministry of Interior desk.

A staffer picked me up at the airport, and we made the exciting ride through the busy, rather smoggy streets of Kabul. I spent the day getting a little orientation at the house and settling in. It’s a very homey, welcoming place, and my friends here are very gracious, to say the least. Last night I got some time chillin’ on the roof, listening to the city’s sounds, enjoying the light breeze, and watching the lights come on in the houses up the nearby mountains.

I’ve learned a lot in just the two days I’ve been here.

1. I’ve learned some Dari phrases, such as “Salaam,”“Hello,” and “Naama Chst?” “What is your name?”

2. I’ve learned that no matter how hard it is to keep your headscarf on and no matter how many things you’re looking out for at once, you have to pay enough attention that you don’t run slap bang into metal bars that appear out of nowhere.

3. I’ve learned that Duck Duck Goose is NOT child’s play at 5800 elevation when it’s 100 degrees out.

4. It would be the work of lifetimes to understand this place.

I slept well, and in the morning went along with a team of five ladies who have been having a sports clinic at the community center started by the organization I’m with. I went to observe and participate to get to know the girls a little, as I’ll probably go out there some days to help with English lessons.

What an amazing experience. I find myself standing by a garden of sunflowers surrounded 20-25 bright eyed little girls in trousers, tunics, and scarves. They’re shy at first. They already know the other team and they cling to their hands and arms, grinning, laughing. Quietly I wade in, like a cautious swimmer in new waters, and before long they’re grabbing my arm, speaking a lovely but unfortunately unintelligible string of sentences. They want affection. They want to be on my “team.” They nearly knock me out (Duck Duck Goose is challenging on multiple levels.)


It’s all a little surreal. I keep looking up at the mountains rising behind the community center building, thinking I’ve never realized that massive chunks of such dusty, desolate rock could be so majestic, and even beautiful. They seem to say, “We are Afghanistan. We are ancient. We may look desolate, but there’s nothing you can to move us.” I sense this determined hardness in the girls, even in their affectionate curiosity. But I’m very excited to be here. There’s just a “rightness” about this trip, in a lot of different ways.

Kuda Hafez (goodbye!), until I blog again...