Well, it’s still a little early for reflections on the whole trip – for a start I need to go back and read all my entries again - the time went so fast it seemed like a couple of days. It’s been a bit difficult – my friends asking me how it was – and how do you sum it all up in a pithy comment? It’s beyond me at the moment.
So, I’ll entertain you with the details of my trip back.
The staff all sent me off in the morning meeting – I was given a small handmade rug featuring the sheep game (like polo, but with a dead sheep) and I was able to make a small speech – I’d picked up on the fact that in any farewell, the Afghans always include something along the lines if the following: “If I caused any offence or hurt anyone, I’m truly sorry, it was purely accidental and I hope nobody holds it against me” – the first few times you hear it, it makes you double take a bit, and you start to protest – “of course you didn’t!”, to a fairly blankly embarrassed response, Then you realise it’s a bit of a social nicety – and so I was pleased to be able to use it in my little farewell speech. I did mean it, of course! I was also really pleased to be able to give out my stash of 1gb memory sticks as presents to the computer users – and they are actually really expensive still in Afghanistan, so they went down really well. Sadly, I didn’t have quite enough for everybody, so Sudha got a smaller one, although I tried to make up the difference by giving her one of my heat gel packs – I learnt that this winter was her first cold winter ever – and believe me, it gets cold in Kabul during the winter.
After packing, and redistributing some of my uneaten pistachios to the drivers, we were ready to go – F*** and H**** took me down, where I experienced again the frenetic chaos of Kabul International Airport – although I was lulled into a false sense of security by the security before I got in – who relieved me of the shell casings I’d picked up on top of TV mountain – although I put them on top of my luggage so as not to seem like I was trying to smuggle them out. Mind you, if I had hidden them a little better, I think I could have got them through the metal detector, no worries. I’m not sure it actually worked at all. Maybe Kabul really did make me far too cynical.
I then ran the gauntlet of another hand baggage search – funny they searched me so much on the way out, not the way in. Of course, they charge you 500 Afs (about $10) to leave as well. Then my bag was grabbed and “helped along” for a “donation” – of course, all that meant was that a guy took my bag to the end of another long line. Still, I had plenty of dollars, and I wasn’t being charged a fortune – by western standards.
Then I waited to be cleared through passport control – to leave – and I waited, and waited, made sure I was in the right line, almost lost my place, waited some more, and started to understand the impetus for bribery. I really started to look for an opportunity to assert my britishness and expedite some movement. A bit sad, really, the way I went full circle from when I was on my way in at Dubai airport.
So, eventually got through, herded upstairs to a chaotic waiting room, where I tried to hear the announcements of the flights – a guy dashing in and talking in a normal voice to the whole room, followed by confused masses going down the same stairs as incoming people were trying to come up – I went down early, but didn’t fancy going back up, seeing the amount of confusion. In the end, I just tried to keep an eye on the colour of the tickets in the hands of the line going by – until I spotted a slightly battered looking Brit, who I cautiously attached myself to – turned out to be a “Risk Consultant” who had a background as a “private military consultant” or some such happy euphemism for “mercenary”. Still, nice enough fellow, though I doubt a night out on the town together would be a particularly clever idea. Good job we were only on a plane. Going out of Afghanistan. Though I was a little alarmed that, once we were airborne, the announcement that we would be in Kandahar in two hours. I was a little alarmed, thinking that Ariana had switched flight plans on me. My fellow Brit allayed my fears, and some of the other passengers laughed at my confusion – and slight fear. Which I felt was fair enough, really.
The flight itself was beautiful – amazing. We circled around Kabul to gain height – for a fair old while. And we were flying out, at a good height, or so I thought until I caught a glimpse out of the window, and saw mountain tops very, very close indeed. Suddenly I was very glad I didn’t know exactly how high the mountains were when I flying in in the snow. But it was breathtakingly beautiful – I almost expected myself to go blind with it – I mean, I really thought it was pretty much the pinnacle of everything I’d ever seen. No pictures, though. I wasn’t at a window seat.
Dubai was pretty relaxed, and felt extremely bright, shiny and new after Kabul – I actually thought the guys I was staying with had redecorated since I’d been there last, it looked so neat and new and clean after Kabul (it wasn’t). And going out for sushi with Chris in an air conditioned mall seemed like an exotic dream. The sight of women in figure revealing clothes felt very strange as well – for a while, at least.
I got lucky with my flights out – one of the guys (Nikolai?) was due to pick up someone from the airport early in the morning anyway, so I didn’t have to ask anybody to put themselves out for me. And I got to hear the morning call for prayer roll around the city at 5am, whilst overlooking the graveyard in front of the flat. Apparently they bury their dead vertically – though sometimes not quite deep enough to keep away the attentions of dogs – hence the graveyards being dog proof. The graveyards I saw in Kabul were almost communal spaces, in some places, with stalls and kids playing encroaching on the margins, and in some places co-habiting the same space.
After that, the journey back was pretty straightforward. I saw the wonders of Dubai Duty free – lots of gaudy gold, not much in the way of diamonds – I looked! I met a nice German lass, who I gave a dollar to as we were both guiltily buying McDonalds, and on the flight on the way home I sat next to a really interesting Ugandan Indian gentleman who had had a history in preventative medicine, public medicine and tropical medicine all across Africa and a bit of India. He talked a fair bit about himself, but it was fair enough, as he was a really interesting bloke. I’m planning to invite him and his wife over for dinner sometime.
And when I got home, it was really good to catch up with Sarah – and between her and work, that’s why this update is up a little late. The delay is worth it though – at least for me.
The next update will be about my impressions of the whole experience now I’m home.
So, I’ll entertain you with the details of my trip back.
The staff all sent me off in the morning meeting – I was given a small handmade rug featuring the sheep game (like polo, but with a dead sheep) and I was able to make a small speech – I’d picked up on the fact that in any farewell, the Afghans always include something along the lines if the following: “If I caused any offence or hurt anyone, I’m truly sorry, it was purely accidental and I hope nobody holds it against me” – the first few times you hear it, it makes you double take a bit, and you start to protest – “of course you didn’t!”, to a fairly blankly embarrassed response, Then you realise it’s a bit of a social nicety – and so I was pleased to be able to use it in my little farewell speech. I did mean it, of course! I was also really pleased to be able to give out my stash of 1gb memory sticks as presents to the computer users – and they are actually really expensive still in Afghanistan, so they went down really well. Sadly, I didn’t have quite enough for everybody, so Sudha got a smaller one, although I tried to make up the difference by giving her one of my heat gel packs – I learnt that this winter was her first cold winter ever – and believe me, it gets cold in Kabul during the winter.
After packing, and redistributing some of my uneaten pistachios to the drivers, we were ready to go – F*** and H**** took me down, where I experienced again the frenetic chaos of Kabul International Airport – although I was lulled into a false sense of security by the security before I got in – who relieved me of the shell casings I’d picked up on top of TV mountain – although I put them on top of my luggage so as not to seem like I was trying to smuggle them out. Mind you, if I had hidden them a little better, I think I could have got them through the metal detector, no worries. I’m not sure it actually worked at all. Maybe Kabul really did make me far too cynical.
I then ran the gauntlet of another hand baggage search – funny they searched me so much on the way out, not the way in. Of course, they charge you 500 Afs (about $10) to leave as well. Then my bag was grabbed and “helped along” for a “donation” – of course, all that meant was that a guy took my bag to the end of another long line. Still, I had plenty of dollars, and I wasn’t being charged a fortune – by western standards.
Then I waited to be cleared through passport control – to leave – and I waited, and waited, made sure I was in the right line, almost lost my place, waited some more, and started to understand the impetus for bribery. I really started to look for an opportunity to assert my britishness and expedite some movement. A bit sad, really, the way I went full circle from when I was on my way in at Dubai airport.
So, eventually got through, herded upstairs to a chaotic waiting room, where I tried to hear the announcements of the flights – a guy dashing in and talking in a normal voice to the whole room, followed by confused masses going down the same stairs as incoming people were trying to come up – I went down early, but didn’t fancy going back up, seeing the amount of confusion. In the end, I just tried to keep an eye on the colour of the tickets in the hands of the line going by – until I spotted a slightly battered looking Brit, who I cautiously attached myself to – turned out to be a “Risk Consultant” who had a background as a “private military consultant” or some such happy euphemism for “mercenary”. Still, nice enough fellow, though I doubt a night out on the town together would be a particularly clever idea. Good job we were only on a plane. Going out of Afghanistan. Though I was a little alarmed that, once we were airborne, the announcement that we would be in Kandahar in two hours. I was a little alarmed, thinking that Ariana had switched flight plans on me. My fellow Brit allayed my fears, and some of the other passengers laughed at my confusion – and slight fear. Which I felt was fair enough, really.
The flight itself was beautiful – amazing. We circled around Kabul to gain height – for a fair old while. And we were flying out, at a good height, or so I thought until I caught a glimpse out of the window, and saw mountain tops very, very close indeed. Suddenly I was very glad I didn’t know exactly how high the mountains were when I flying in in the snow. But it was breathtakingly beautiful – I almost expected myself to go blind with it – I mean, I really thought it was pretty much the pinnacle of everything I’d ever seen. No pictures, though. I wasn’t at a window seat.
Dubai was pretty relaxed, and felt extremely bright, shiny and new after Kabul – I actually thought the guys I was staying with had redecorated since I’d been there last, it looked so neat and new and clean after Kabul (it wasn’t). And going out for sushi with Chris in an air conditioned mall seemed like an exotic dream. The sight of women in figure revealing clothes felt very strange as well – for a while, at least.
I got lucky with my flights out – one of the guys (Nikolai?) was due to pick up someone from the airport early in the morning anyway, so I didn’t have to ask anybody to put themselves out for me. And I got to hear the morning call for prayer roll around the city at 5am, whilst overlooking the graveyard in front of the flat. Apparently they bury their dead vertically – though sometimes not quite deep enough to keep away the attentions of dogs – hence the graveyards being dog proof. The graveyards I saw in Kabul were almost communal spaces, in some places, with stalls and kids playing encroaching on the margins, and in some places co-habiting the same space.
After that, the journey back was pretty straightforward. I saw the wonders of Dubai Duty free – lots of gaudy gold, not much in the way of diamonds – I looked! I met a nice German lass, who I gave a dollar to as we were both guiltily buying McDonalds, and on the flight on the way home I sat next to a really interesting Ugandan Indian gentleman who had had a history in preventative medicine, public medicine and tropical medicine all across Africa and a bit of India. He talked a fair bit about himself, but it was fair enough, as he was a really interesting bloke. I’m planning to invite him and his wife over for dinner sometime.
And when I got home, it was really good to catch up with Sarah – and between her and work, that’s why this update is up a little late. The delay is worth it though – at least for me.
The next update will be about my impressions of the whole experience now I’m home.
