Afghanistan

In the waiting line for passport check we observe strange, exotic, unusual and… slightly frightening persons. Most are men, with beards, or hairless Asian features, dressed in the traditional Khet garment, a knee-length robe and the Partug, loose-fitting trousers. An essential accessory is a hat, with the pakol the most common one, round woolen with a wrapped perimeter. The pakol originates from the Chitral of Pakistan and historians identify it with the ancient Macedonian “kafsia”. It strikes me that despite the low temperatures, they wear light jackets made of thin Chinese faux leather or a blanket thrown over their shoulders, they wear shoes or sandals barefoot without socks!

The entry procedures are relatively simple, the stamp marks the coveted visa, my fingerprints are recorded and the luggage is checked in the usual way. At the exit, quite far from the airport building where non-travelers are allowed to approach, we are waiting for Noor, the owner of a small, personal agency named “Let’s be friends Afghanistan” who will be our guide on this trip. He’s one of the few tourist agents in the country.

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Although I always travel independently and without guidance, in war zones like this, escort from someone who knows the area, is considered necessary. An alternative I had explored before the pandemic was to stay in couchsurfing, doing tours on my own and I had a very positive response from some guy in Kabul and a woman (!) In Mazar. After the pandemic, however, couchsurfing became subscription only and I doubt if people with low financial background, who voluntarily offer housing, are now participating. Especially for Afghanistan and my post experience from the situation, I find it extremely dangerous and largely impossible, at least if you want to really get to know some places including road travel in and out of cities. The conditions are so fluid that the planning of the trip is constantly changing, destinations in the country get captured and become inaccessible. The few main roads controlled by the government are claimed by the Taliban, who levy taxes on trucks carrying goods. Of course, for a foreigner to fall into their hands could mean execution right away, or kidnapping in exchange for releasing Taliban prisoners convicted for crimes and terrorism. Even for locals, if on Taliban checkpoint they become suspect of government affiliation, if their identity has a stamp confirming that they are voting in the elections, if they are just members of the cultural or business life in the country, if they are active in education, arts, activism and freedom of speech, or if they just accompany strangers… are executed without explanations. Therefore, I’m not just responsible for my personal safety but also for the one who guides me. In addition, at government checkpoints, the police do not allow passing without being accompanied by a local. Noor has gained publicity through some bloggers, but I decided not to publish his full details, for security reasons. Following the journey, Noor will prove to be a man of excellent character, big patience and understanding, honesty, dedication, knowledge and ability to find solutions through the difficult situations that arise. His services are beyond any expectation of any travel guide you can imagine. Traveling in conflict zones is not a cheap thing, but Noor was flexible in our negotiations and I think he had a small profit margin.

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More than 60% of Afghanistan is Taliban-controlled areas that are so scattered that fragment the country and make free movement impossible. Noor, as well as the Afghan consul at the embassy in Athens, were against land travel and suggested only flights between cities. Nevertheless, I insisted on driving to Bamyan and despite initial strong opposition, Noor eventually accepted. On the contrary, the couchsurfing host I was talking to back in March, had told me that he would not follow me “not even for $ 1,000,000”.

Upon arrival, we don’t stay in Kabul but leave immediately for Bamiyan. The tour of the capital city will take place at the end of the trip so that there is enough safe time – something that will once again prove to be a wise choice. We also require time to complete the COVID test, obligatory for our return flight.

The route on the outskirts of the capital city is an overdose of images, somewhat familiar from other chaotic, developing countries and conservative Islamic places. But at the same time they are quite different. Dust, traffic anarchy, mud brick buildings and merchants spreading their wares either outside their poor shops or on the street. Images of abandonment, of decline, in a place that seems to never have flourished. Men in local outfit including turbans or the typical woolen hats on men and the blue chadaree (burqa) on women, who see the world through a small opening on the face of the garment, also covered with a veil. All this in a dry landscape, at least at this season, all in beige tones and a background of snow capped mountains that embrace the plateau of the area. Travel time in the greater Kabul district is frustrating, the traffic chaos is comparable even to Bangladesh. Traffic on the roads is not following any regulations, vehicles are moving in the opposite traffic direction, there are no traffic lights and road space is claimed with audacity and rudeness, cars almost contact each other.

Despite the previous experiences and images that all three of us have from similar places, we are overwhelmed by an uncontrollable photographic enthusiasm. Of course the opportunities are limited and distanced from a moving vehicle. In addition, there is still hesitation. The savage facial look of Afghans with beards and turbans, but also the rules of respect to women, make me not shoot much. At times I hear “bursts”, fortunately not from guns but my travel buddies’ cameras, trying to catch the moment without much success. Of course, the military facilities and the many government checkpoints are a forbidden subject for photography. Most of the time checking is done by the guards with a simple glance at the passengers, but even this creates traffic jams and of course these checkpoints are a good target for terrorist attacks.

More than 60% of Afghanistan is inaccessible and Taliban-controlled areas are so scattered that they fragment the country and make free movement impossible. Noor, as well as the Afghan consul at the embassy in Athens, were against land travel and suggested only flights between cities. Nevertheless, I insisted on driving to Bamyan and despite initial opposition, Noor eventually accepted. Instead, the couchsurfing host I was talking to back in March, had told me that he would not follow me “not even for $ 1,000,000”.

We do not stay in Kabul but leave immediately for Bamiyan. The tour of the capital city will take place at the end of the trip so that there is enough safe time  – once again to be proven a wise choice – but also to have enough time for the COVID test, obligatory for the flight back home.

We spend the evening with Noor next to the wood stove, in the empty restaurant area of ​​the inn, enjoying local cuisine, plenty of tea and some rum that we had brought with us. We play back-to-back music from youtube, Afghan and Greek folk and we find many common elements such as the sounds of dambora, a string instrument found also in Greek traditional music. At one point another Noor’s driver shows up with a middle-aged woman, covered in a headscarf who is barely visible as not being local. Shara from Australia, will henceforth be the new partner of Noor, will undertake secretarial job, deciding to live permanently in Afghanistan even though the salaries in the country do not exceed $ 200 per month! I doubt the maturity of such a decision.

We asked Noor to try to find a suitable vehicle to go to the lakes next day and like our every request, he did his best to make it happen. A capable 4×4 is waiting for us in the morning, but the weather is very foggy and the snowfall is heavy. It is doubtful whether we’ill be able to see the lakes, but give a try. After an hour, arriving again at the gate of Band-e-Amir National Park, a vehicle of the local authority catches us and informs that the road is closed and there is no possibility of rescue if we get stuck. The weather is getting worse and we must leave the Bamiyan area as soon as possible, before the mountain passes back to Kabul get blocked by snow. In Bamiyan we get back in the mini van and our experienced driver, manages to cross the snowy roads at 3,500m altitude. At one of the several checkpoints, an army guard gets on board, as every driver is required by law to accept. We leave him after a few miles, Noor takes a breath of relief. Authorities have explicitly forbidden him to carry tourists on this route and he was trying all this time to keep the guard busy so that he wouldn’t listen to our conversations and realize we’re strangers. Otherwise we would have interrogations, delays and serious consequences for him, maybe even suspension of his licence. The snowfall continues throughout and gives beauty even to the chaotic Kabul, which as usual is traffic jammed with vehicles and people doing their shopping, even under these conditions. Our hotel is not very visible from the street, does not have an armed guard like the others and is in a good area with shops around. The rooms are basic, old and a bit dirty but we ask for an upgrade and passing through a corridor with air condition modules lead us to the suite which is spacious and has a large dining table. Time limits just for a short walk to the shops of the surrounding area, which sell carpets, handicrafts, jewelry and traditional clothes. My fellow traveler visits another dentist and decides to risk a major dental procedure that will have to be completed a few days later.

Another night in Kabul where my fellow traveler visits another dentist. He decides to risk a major dental procedure that should be completed a few days later. In the morning we fly to Mazar-i-Sharif.

In fact I had higher expectations from this city of north, which is very close to Uzbekistan border. I expected modernization and culture, but Mazari is a typically chaotic city, with no attractions, with the exception of the famous Blue Mosque. Together with Mahdi, Noor’s brother who accompanies us, we head to the masterpiece monument. To our great disappointment, however, a guard forbids entry with a camera, so we will leave and try later after shift change. Mahdi is 23 years old and among other things a martial arts champion, tattoo artist and hairdresser, so career in tourist industry is not his priority. At the hotel we meet Noor who arrived with the Spaniards and so the number of tourists in the country now stands at 7.

Unfortunately, the ancient Balkh area, just 20 kms from the city, has been occupied by the Talibans and is impossible to visit. Instead, we leave for Charkent area a little further south, after we collect a young friend of Mahdi, a policeman and who, preferred to come with us. His connections, hopefully will grand permission to photograph the Blue Mosque later. The policeman is an expert in hashish and after he procured a large quantity paying 150afg = € 1.5, he spent all day melting the material and filling cigarettes. The outskirts of Mazar are snowy, the white branches of the trees give a fairytale feel to the wild landscape. Charkent is a secluded area surrounded by high mountains, with access from a narrow point of a gorge controlled by a stone gate. The grandfather of our friend, was a local hero during the war and kept the area free from the Talibans. For this reason we are allowed to photograph the military outpost of the snow white valley, with Soviet cannons complementing the scenery.

The frost will not allow our vehicle to continue the uphill route to the mountains, but we visit some surrounding villages. The weather conditions limit people inside their brick houses, the villages seem abandoned. Only a group of people with shovels in hand, restore the circulation of water in an irrigation canal. A child about 5 years old is with them, with its own little shovel, participating in the effort that started early in the morning at the foot of the mountain. The most noble villagers even invited us, if we wanted to visit them later at their homes. 

Back in the city we find ourselves again in the noisy markets and we try to enter the mosque again, with the mediation of the police. Unfortunately, even the commander can not allow us to enter with cameras, just with mobile phone. A recent strict law has been enacted, following an incident of espionage and possible preparation for terrorist attack. The evening light creates a feast of gold and blue tones, the mosque is enchanting. My eyes can’t decide where to focus on so much beauty, what to capture in my photos! I’m deeply disappointed that I do not have the camera there in this emerald masterpiece, but finally even cell phone photos are impressive! Unfortunately, unlike Herat, entry is not allowed inside the main hall. The temperature is below zero and walking with socks on icy marbles is not pleasant at all.

My travel buddy feels very ill and we have to go to back to the hotel soon. He has a fever and stomach problems, and although the symptoms are not typical of COVID, we are much worried.

Fortunately, he felt better the very next day and we all leave for a trip to the archeological site of Samangan. It is a city founded by the king of the Greco-Bactrian period Eucratides, successor of Alexander the Great, hence it was called Eucratidia. It later became a Buddhist place of worship and an important station on the Silk Road. At the top of a hill with panoramic views of the surrounding area, a large Buddhist stupa, known as Takht-e Rostam, is hewn on the rock. Instead of the monument interest, I was shocked by the presence of a little kid, a princess that marked on my soul forever. Read her emotional story at the end of the page.

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After the happiness that I hope we offered to this child, nothing attracts my interest anymore. Some unimpressive elongated cave rooms of the Buddhist past of Samangan are located in the wider area…

Upon return we stop at a place with hot springs, with the steams creating a bizarre, mysterious setting in the middle of the surrounding frosted vegetation that looks like white corals.

Our tour will be disrupted once again by another flight cancellation, creating a problem for on-time return to Kabul. Additionally, a severe stomach problem troubles to my other travel buddy.

In the Talibans’ territory…

Initially I wanted to do the Mazari-Kabul route by road, to see this part of the country. But apart from wasting 11-12 hours of total travel time, Noor was very opposed to the idea. I insisted, considering that the main road of the country that unites two big cities, can not pose a serious risk. Of course my point of view was hypothetical and the reality very different. Eventually the cancellation of the flight, restored my original idea, as we had to return by all means to the capital city and do the COVID test in time for the return flight.

Noor organizes a transportation mission, for us and the Spanish tourists. The three young men get in a sedan and we pick in the van another elderly Spaniard.

Most crucial, a vanguard vehicle will preceded to monitor the situation in the Taliban area that we have to cross.

The case of falling into their hands and tragic consequences are real, but I am also worried if we simply have to return back and get trapped in Mazar-i-Sharif.

Approaching the Pol-e-Khomri town area, the tension is noticeable. Our driver and Mahdi are obviously stressed, unlike our Spanish passenger who is completely ignorant of the area, the situation and the danger. His appearance is obviously European and I am worried about how he will react in case we fall into a terrorist checkpoint.

An endless queue of trucks blocks the road and forces us to stop.

This is not relaxing at all, not only scared of being identified but also because all these vehicles are waiting to pay a hefty toll to the terrorists. 

We are maneuvering on the right side off the road, I hope it’s not land mined. We see a burned down humvee (military multi-purpose vehicle), many burnt trucks on the side of the road. Maybe they couldn;t pay, who knows? At some point truck drivers walk towards some buildings at a distance of 100m from the road. Passenger cars are not subject to tax and fortunately there is no checkpoint on the road. Again, I can not understand how they know who paid and who did not. We continue to encounter burnt vehicles, even later at government checkpoints, apparently having a decorative role and can fall under attack at any time.

With a feeling of success and relief, Mahdi exclaims: OK, we did it! They say goodbye and pay the taxi driver of the vanguard and we continue without any problems.

On route, the interest is on Salang mountain pass, a strategic point at an altitude of 3,800m that connects the northern part of the country with the south. The passage crosses the Hindu Kush Mountains, but is now bypassed through a tunnel. Prior to the construction of the road and tunnel, the main route between Kabul and northern Afghanistan was a much longer route that needed three days. The road receives a lot of traffic of military and other heavy vehicles and is in poor condition. In 2010, the passage was hit by avalanches with more than 16 dead, burying miles of highway and trapping vehicles in the tunnel.

The snowed route has spectacular beauty, after all we are at the western end of the highest mountain range on planet, the Himalayas. At rest points in various places, water jets are fired from plastic pipes marking outdoor car wash services.

Following the route, the interest is on Salang mountain pass, a strategic point at an altitude of 3,800m that connects the northern part of the country with the south. The passage crosses the Hindu Kush Mountains, but is now bypassed through a tunnel. Prior to the construction of the road and tunnel, the main route between Kabul and northern Afghanistan was a much longer route that lasted three days. The road receives a lot of traffic of military and other heavy vehicles and is in poor condition. In 2010, the passage was hit by avalanches with more than 16 dead, burying highway miles and trapping vehicles in the tunnel.

The snowed route has spectacular beauty, after all we are at the western end of the highest mountain range on the planet, the Himalayas. At rest points in various places, typical water jets are fired from plastic pipes marking outdoor car washes.

Climbing and descending from the mountain mass requires a significant time of the trip. For me, most important is to find network coverage on route to connect to a scheduled business video conference. With some delay, as soon as we reach the lowlands I manage to. The background of women with chadaree, men with partug and turbans, the general noisy reality of the country, are definitely a unique background for the video meeting.

 

Kabul

Due to time wasted by flight cancellations, we decide to exclude Pajsheer Valley visit, a several hours car trip.

So for the rest two days we explore Kabul, starting with its health infrastructure to conduct the Covid test. Even in the medical centre, there were many who did not wear a mask, even here there could be a source of infection.

The colorful houses of the city, which are built on the surrounding hills, are strongly reminiscent of the favelas of Rio De Janeiro in Brazil. In one of these suburbs, a winding road leads to the Kart-e Sakhi Mosque, a not-so-large but quite elaborate one, lined with blue-green tiles. Many pigeons, which Muslims love to feed, add to the oriental feeling. The presence of armed guards is strong as usual. After all, the capital city of bombings could be called… Kabum. The shrine is visited by many Shiite Hazaras and has been the target of attacks, such as in March 2018 by an ISIS suicide bomber, killing 33 people and wounding dozens more. Many children were playing in the courtyard and at one point a guard rushed to body check some of them. The incident also appears in the video below.

We continue to the Babur gardens, which have no greenery at this season neither many visitors. In springtime it’s probably busier, visited by citizens who can afford to pay the small entrance fee to enjoy a picnic. Interest is limited to the marble tomb of the Mongol conqueror Babur, of the same dynasty that also ruled India.

What I was looking forward to on this trip was the experience of the Bird market in the center of Kabul, an activity especially favourite to locals. Entering the bird market is like a journey into the past, feeling like a hundred years ago, in a part of the city untouched by modernization. The most sought after of all the birds sold is the kowk, a species of partridge. The birds, which are valuable to their owners, receive great care and are kept in vaulted cages that are works of art in their own. The Kowk fights happen on Friday mornings in quick matches, avoiding serious injuries, with spectators betting on the result.

More peaceful are the myriad canaries and the rest of the domestic birds, which are kept for their singing. Pigeons also abound, a common sight in the skies of Kabul. The crowd is overwhelming in the market, after all, that is the charm of such places. If there was no Covid pandemic and the constant fear of a bomb attack, such participation with the enthusiastic crowd would’ve been more carefree.

In a large, open field of ​​the city, a large number of young people play cricket and do horseback riding. Since we didn’t have the chance to watch a Buzkashi game, we’ll get a glimpse here. Once again, i see kids less than 10 years old riding a motorcycle!

The impressive mausoleum in memory of King Nadir Shah is located in a prominent position at the top of a hill in eastern Kabul with panoramic city views. It was severely damaged in the war but has now been restored and stands imposing, made of black marble, with monumental columns and a huge metal dome. The king was assassinated in 1933, as most Afghan leaders face their fate, and his wife Zahir Shah who died before she could return from exile after the fall of Talibans, was later buried here. Entrance to the mausoleum is not allowed.

Just below are some scattered tombs and another building with columns that show the signs of war destruction.

Kite flying is a popular activity on the hill of Teppe Maranjan, especially during the celebrations of Nauroz (Muslim New Year).

In the evening my travel buddy visits the dentist who turned out to be a scammer and barely completed his tooth restoration, with a result of dubious quality. His psychological and physical condition, contributed bu stomach issues, is low.

We meet for dinner with the Afghan consul of Athens, who is currently in his homeland. The luxurious Bukhara Restaurant has a lounge inside, a safe distance from the entrance which could be a target despite the security. The menu is already known to us because we had previously ordered delivery to the hotel room. The noble consul, who comes from a village just 60km from Kabul, cannot visit his hometown because as a government official he is a target.

The last day starts with the test result, which happily came out negative and made me finally relaxed. The nightmare of staying in Kabul for 14 days quarantine has been eliminated. We visit the archeological museum, with some interesting findings of the Hellenistic period and the Greco-Buddhist art of Gandhara. Unfortunately, not enough pieces survived from looting. I had admired much more at the Peshawar Museum in Pakistan. Right next door is the Darul Aman Palace, infamous for its after war ruined condition and now in the process of being restored with the participation of international architects. Future plans for its use included the housing of the parliament, which was eventually rejected. Unfortunately the entrance is not allowed, not even photos from outside.

We spend some time in the carpet markets, for which the country has a tradition, as well as other handmade souvenirs. Finally, we enjoy moments of relaxation in a cafe above the shores of Lake Qargha, at the outskirts of the city.

Afghanistan has been a precious travel experience for me. A place that for many is considered as a hell of war, social and political problems, religious fanaticism, a country no one wants to live or visit. But for me, it was a rare, “forbidden fruit” on my travel map, a place that keeps its secrets authentic and unaltered.

©Alexandros Tsoutis