My first visit to the heart of asia

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Salaam Afghanistan


An excerpt from my blog:

(it has been brought to my attention that some photos do not display correctly at all times on this page; please note that they are always visible from my full blog)

This Friday was the first day of real exercise I have had since I arrived in Kabul. I went with two of the Le Monde guys (that guesthouse I mentioned) -- Ash from Australia and Jeremy from the States -- to climb the tallest peak in Kabul. It was fantastic! (Despite the fact that I had been ill the two days before!)

The peak (I'll find the name later) has an ancient wall bisecting the mountain. Various estimates of how old it is place it anywhere from 800 to 1600 years old. Some people say it was built during a time when two brothers ruled the area, in order to divide the land between them. Others say that there is a love story behind it. I don't know that anyone really knows. It is mud bricks and stone, with windows here and there, and runs like stairs up the mountainside.

We drove out to Karte Se (the part of town that my office is in), and got out at the foot of the mountain. I wore my REI zip offs and a T-shirt, but brought a longer sleeve shirt and a head scarf with me to wear at the bottom and at the top. At the bottom, when you first start climbing (and I in my tevas -- bad idea!), you are climbing the route that so many people, usually children, climb every day to bring water up to their mud brick homes. There are no smooth paths, no streets, just rocks and the treads of the little plastic sandals that walk there daily. I wore my headscarf until we ascended the first 500 feet and were well out of view of the villagers.


House on the way up the mountain


Jeremy and I taking a breather.


Me and Ash


Another breather


Meditation.



Wall in the background.
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Village kids.



It is a good workout, and the view is amazing. You walk right along the wall, sometimes on top of the wall, up up up, over boulders, past the rusted ordinance casings that still remain scattered over the mountain after 23 years of war, and finally reach the summit. You really get a good sense of the layout of Kabul from way up there, and also a good sense of the history of the place. In so many ways, it still looks much as it did centuries ago when different people were warring over it and trying to conquer its people and its land.

Looking out over the city from on top of the wall.


Jeremy on top of the world.


Looking out over Karte Seh



At the top, there is a long, deep trench that follows the wall. More casings. And some goat bones. I imagine this must have been where some men fought and slept and ate during one of the wars. We walk along the wall toward the other side of the mountain, where we see in the distance the silhouette of a man with a gun.

At the top.


Silhouette of the soldier guarding the top.


We have brought fresh apricots with us to offer to him in exchange for tea and rest at the top. I put on my long sleeves and my head scarf. Salaam alaykum! we greet each other. We make our offering, apologizing that some of them are squishy after the morning climb. I am sure that squishy does not translate.

Making the apricot offering.


He offers us chai, and we accept with thanks. He goes into his small, rock shelter, and we look around. From somewhere heretofore unseen, we hear a donkey crying in pain. Over this ledge, down in this former artillery-pit, a donkey is tied to an old gun mount. He's caught, and the rope is too tight. His leg is bleeding. We free him, as the soldier watches in amusement. Poor thing. He got more loving from me during that hour visit than he has gotten in a long time.

Donkey tied to gun mount.


Me and donkey getting to know each other.


Me and donkey good friends.


Good friends 2.



This man leads a solitary life. I am sure he gets some visitors, perhaps weekly, from people like us, but mostly it is just him and his dog and his donkey at the top of a mountain overlooking Kabul. I wonder, who does he plan to shoot with that gun way up there so far from everything else? Here and there are other barricades, with even larger remnants of bombs and missiles scattered about rusting in the dust. I wonder whose they were. Were they ours? Were they Soviet? Taleban?

The soldier's fort.


Profile of the lone soldier.


Rusted bomb.


Looking out over the city.


Kabul from the top.


Kabul from the top 2.


We enjoy tea together, with minimal conversation. I manage to use the few words I have learned in my Dari lessons to ask, "U sag nam dara?" -- does that dog have a name? He does. But two seconds later I don't remember what it is.

We thank him very much, "Besyar tashakur" and wish that God will take care of him as we leave, "Bomane khuda. Khuda hofez." He shows us the path down the other side of the mountain. The path down is much easier than the path up. We make it down in 30 minutes, stopping for a few more photos,

On the way back down.


Wall on the way down.



Through the windows in the wall.



Me and Ash looking through the window.


Mosque and intersection.



and ending up on the other side of town where the old fort is and the cemetery and Olympic stadium where they play soccer and all the motorized rickshaws (we called them tuk tuks in Thailand).

We ended our hike by driving out to the ISAF market -- Supreme -- for Baskin Robbins ice cream and a cold Coke. Kind of strange to be enjoying such treats as we walk back out past the arms unloading checkpoint and get into the car to drive past the three rows of razor wire that surround the compound. So Afghanistan.

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