Afghanistan, Ishkoshim to Kunduz

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Well there's another one, you can't escape them here, a man with a Kalashnikov just walked into the internet cafe. That's Afghanistan, but honestly it's not bad at all. It's a little more rough and tumble than the places I've been so far, but the people are so wonderful and helpful, I don't feel the least bit in danger. Okay, the generator failed once and I lost my blog, but here goes again.
I left Khorog last week after very long goodbyes with my friends, and got on to a Russian army jeep headed for the Wakhan valley. On there I met the first fellow tourist in some time. A swiss italian named Fabrizio, insanely well travelled, I'd estimate 150+ countries. But I had fun talking to him and looking at his travels on his digital camera and sharing mine with him. Say hello to him for me if you meet him.
When I got to the border I found that one of the guys guarding was from the villag Deh, and a friend of my friend Anzo. I sent him to talk to that girl I like in Deh, Sadokhat. I said goodbye to him and headed to Afghanistan.
I hadn't been planning on coming to Afghanistan before, but I stumbled by accident on the Afghan consulate in Khorog, and they I wrote my own letter of invitation on a piece of notebook paper, and they didn't seem to care. They gave me the visa in ten minutes for thirty dollars.
Crossing was the biggest culture shock of my life. The country side is beautiful on both side of the border, with the towering snow covered 7000+ m Hindu Kush looming over. The rivers are all so unspoiled, they run through these pastures a perfect turqoise. Northern Afghanistan is by far the most geologically interesting place I've ever been, even compaed to the grand canyon, with amazing rock formations and mountains, and canyons and rivers everywhere. Most of the people populating this most isolated corner of Afghanistan are herder. This is the home of Buzkashi, a sport played with the headless 40 kg goat carcass, with rules similar to polo but extremely fierce and violent. I am now in Kunduz, a city famous for the game and I hope to see a match soon.
As soon as I crossed the border I was totally overwhelmed. Suddenly there were women riding plow horses wearing burqas, all the men wore turbans and shalwar kameez instead of adidas track suits, and everyone had huge beards and assault rifles. Not everyone, but many men. There are also many destroyed tanks, and the Afghans use the tracks as speed bumps and other things. All the shops are wooden boxes overflowing with shoddy goods, and everyon really stared at me a lot, the most intense staring, crowd gathering, and following I've ever encountered in the world, until I cut off my hair and put on a local head scarf which was given to me as a gift. I wandered around lost(there are no landmines in this area, don't worry.) and finally I met a guy who spoke some English. He told me he was a jeweller, he gave me his headscarf as a gift, and invited me to break fast with him at 6 o'clock. By the way, this is the month of Ramadan, which isn't celebrated in Soviet Asia, but here it's pretty serious. Sunrise to sunset fasting, which I participate in, basically whether I like it or not. But it's cool. I got a room in a grotty one room hotel(everything is insanely primitive in the country-it's really like the dark ages) and I went to Mahmoud or whatever his name was's 'office' as he called it)
The food was delicious, and well seasoned, and I was really happy. His office was filled with 8 or so bearded men, some with AK-47s and wearing camouflauge jackets over their Shalwar Kameez, and covered in pictures of the Mujahideen leader Massoud. He talked to me about politics, and eventually revealed that he had fled from the authorities in Kabul. He then accused me of being a spy in Afghanistan, and an agent for organizations ranging from the CIA, the Taliban, and the Aga Khan foundation. Only when I showed him my student ID card did he believe me. He then revealed to me that his mission was to fight all Americans in Afghanistan and drive them from the country or kill them. I asked him if that included me and he smiled and said, "No, you are my guest! Besides, you are only a tourist, you are not with them." He asked me to come into the mountains with him for 'sightseeing,' and I was half-heartedly considering it until he told me that Mullah Omar(the leader of the Taliban) was George Bush's son. Then I decided he was just crazy, and after a very frigid night, I left town for Feyzobad.
To set the mood, this area of Afghanistan is covered in snow, and there are only brown mud brick buildings. At night, the only light comes from flashlights or gas lamps.
The road to Feyzabad was incredibly beautiful, covered in snow and ice in places, sometimes the road was just a river bed in the shadow of these huge mountains. One man spoke Shugni(Pamiri) and I conversed with him in my increasingly fluent Shugnan. I reached Feyzabad, a cluster of donkey and horses in the countries biggest opium production center. The people here were amazingly kind and friendly. I was very touched the first night by how every person wanted to shake my hand, say hello to me, and give me food. Children would run out of their parents shops to give me bread, while saying "Thank you! Thank you!" to me, just for being there. I recieved at least a dozen invitations to stay at people houses while here, but I had enough of being a guest, I just wanted some privacy, so I stayed in a nice hotel for 10 dollars a night with dinner.
The food is better in Afghanistan, there seems to be a lot more Indian influence and a lot less Russian influence. A very tasty break. But today some German investors invited me to come to a German restaurant here in Kunduz, they recommended the black forest tort... agghh, I'm drooling over the thought of western food after months of kebab, palau, and potatoes.
In Feyzabad I met a translator for CNN who showed me around, took me to the TV station(they invited me to stay there, too) and I had some interesting conversations about the war, and Tajikistan.
That day I had my hair cut(about a centimeter long, all around) so I fit in much better, and I had a pair of traditional Afghani shalwar Kameez tailored for me... cost about 15 dollars. Damn they're comfy. The funny part about this medieval Islamic garb is that he sewed the name of the fabric on the shirt pocket, and it says in small letters "Modern." Even when I went to buy some Mantu in the market I paid for two dumplings, but the man insisted on giving me three, since I am a guest. It was crazy how friendly everyone was, even the police with their AK-47's were really protective of their token tourist, and wanted to walk with me all places and give me advice.
I left Feyzabad for the spectacular(again) drive to Kunduz, and had my first weird Islamic run ins. Everyone is always stopping the car to pray, and when I don't pray too, they try to convert me. So for all intensive purposes, I'm converted, and whenever everyone prays, I lay out my cloth and pray too. la lahah il lalaloo muhammed dur rasooloolah or something like that... and when the car starts I say bismillah hir rakhmed ni rakhim, and before meals, and after I say allah u ackbar and omin, and no one bothers me. But on this trip I had difficulty paying for anything, as everyone insisted that they buy me food. We stopped for the night in a small town , where an English speaking boy befriended me and took me to his house and fed me. During Ramadan we eat a meal at midnight, 5:30 AM, and 6 o'clock PM. I feel bad for muslims in the southern hemisphere. And just as a sidenote, damn Indian films suck. Why do they have to spontaneously sing, and why is there no continuity whatsoever? I don't know, but I long for American or even Hong Kong films.
I haven't been on the internet in so long I can't even remember what it's like. But I've been writing emails for 5 hours. I just can't stop writing. Maybe I should be a writer. But it's eatting into my budget so I can't write much longer.
Kunduz is busy, and I saw one or two older women walking without burkas. There are security forces in this city, but I haven't seen them. I only know because they had RPG's fired at them a while ago. No one seems to really give a crap about tourists, except getting really excited because we're supposedly a barometer of the safety of the country. They told me at the consulate that there are many American tourists in Afghanistan, but many is a relative term. I'm going to look for the German restaurant soon, maybe for my first western meal in months...mmmm. For the worriers who may be reading... don't worry, Afghanistan is quite safe, and the small risk that there is is well worth taking for me. I really couldn't live with myself if I didn't pursue my desire to visit this country because of cowardice. Most of the violence here is very carefully planned and targets aid workers and people working here. Tourists make poor targets because they never stay in one place for more than a week or so, and I'm very, very, well informed about the situation here in Afghanistan. I am heading next to Mazar-e-Sharif, which I am really looking forward too. I also plan on visiting Kabul, Herat, and then if possible, Iran, which will be very peaceful and tame compared to here. So love to all, have fun
Alex

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Photos

The street
I walked out of my grotty hotel and decided to take a photo

In a Chaikhana
I'm pinching your head

Bicycles
Flowers, Turbans, Shrines

A tank
These are almost everywhere, some more complete, with turrets and their tracks still on.

Comments

[Layo]

About Khorog
I liked the pictures of Khorog town. But it would be better if u will add some more. Good job!