Walking the Wall

Last weekend we went on a wonderful hike along Kabul's old city wall, which runs across one of the many hills surrounding the city. It was built at the cost of many lives many centuries ago; unfortunately I can't be more precise than that because whoever told me the story did not do a particularly good job. The first snow had arrived a few days before, which made the view from the top very, very spectacular.

At the top of the hill, we came upon a group of soldiers. They seemed to wonder what on earth a group of unarmed civilans, mostly girls, did on top of a (not entirely de-mined) mountain, so we offered them cookies...

Fall in Kabul

After a much-needed vacation in northern India, I came back to Kabul a few days ago. It may sound strange to those whose only exposure to Afghanistan is news about the war, but it feels really good to be back. I can't quite put my finger on it. It may be that India was so chaotic and dirty that Kabul in comparison seems clean, organized, and calm. Or it may be that there haven't been any bombs or other incidents for a few weeks. Or it may be simply that fall has arrived. The air is seemingly clean and crisp and smells of woodburning heaters, not of sewage. The dust has settled and the light has changed. It is getting chilly, but the sun still invites for morning coffee on the porch. Though I have never been a fan of the fall season, I welcome it this year with open arms.

Kabul is exactly where I want to be right now. How odd.