SARS?

(from the 24th)

Hello all!

Here it is, my last night in Afghanistan. I maybe be contracting SARS already…what expats here call “Severe Afghanistan Return Syndrome.” You come, and then you have to come back. It’s a mystery really, but I see what they’re talking about.

As I rode back through the city this evening at sunset after an afternoon with two local girls, I found myself soaking in every last sight. The sunlight pouring its haze over the mountains in the distance, the pink and green lights coming on in the nan shops, bicycling guys bumping down the street with scarves draped haphazardly over their heads. Little kids holding hands and flying kites. Street vendors selling oodles of melons. Toyotas everywhere, often highly decorated, sometimes with a sticker on the back that reads “Masha Allah,” or roughly, “God protect us!"

The past week has been a blast. It’s incredible to be part of a huge family that is spread across continents.

Earlier in the week there was an international peace conference here, which meant tighter security resulting in a public holiday. We couldn’t go out much, so it was sort of like being snowed in. Only there was no snow. So friends came over to the guest house and we had good conversation and ate together and played Taboo for quite a while. The guest house has been so quiet that it was nice to have a little group.

I’ve wondered a lot about the purpose of this trip. I still don’t have the answers, but I have confidence that it was right. I’m glad for so much time to soak up the little glimpse I’ve had into this complex country. This house has been the perfect haven, with the roof that’s cool in the evening with a view of the lights coming on in the houses on the mountainsides, the rhythm of gathering for delicious meals three times a day, the quiet room...

So at the end of that day when we had a time of singing and reflection, a little spark jumped in me suddenly at the thought that someday I could provide this same kind of haven to seekers, learners, pilgrims. Maybe people who are struggling with questions. I love the idea of meeting people coming and going from all different places. That’s something to chew on.

The pictures this time are from Babur’s Garden, Balkh-e-Babur. It’s a big, beautiful that was built up in the 1500’s by Babur, the founder of the Moghul empire. He spent a lot of time in India (His descendents built the Taj Mahal) and was originally buried there, but later they moved his remains to this garden, because that’s where he wanted to be buried. According to Wikipedia (since my Persian’s not so good) the inscription on his tomb reads:

“If there is a paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this![“

So I guess he liked his garden. And now, various levels of destruction or falling into disrepair, it’s being tended and cared for again. Roses are everywhere, flashy geraniums, cherry trees. The garden is nestled at the foot of more of those rocky mountains. Since neighborhoods are carved out of the rocks, practically, there is an impressive view both from the garden, and into the garden.

I kept wondering what that wonderful smell was, and then I realized that oh, I’m smelling green growing things! I heard that this was the greenest space in Kabul, and I believe it. Families were there having picnics, and a whole class of university students were drawing the buildings on the grounds. The white marble mosque, though pocked with bullet holes on one side, is well worth sketching.

As usual, I could fill books with all I have to say about this time…but now it’s time for bed because it’s an early start in the morning!