Under the Afghan sun

If you’re still alive at the end of the week, you have won." That was the friendly advice given to our group of international journalists upon our arrival in the Afghan capital of Kabul last month.

It was not a complete exaggeration; the streets of Kabul remain highly unsafe, particularly for foreigners, and especially for women. The high security risk makes you appreciate the efforts of the international community to bring stability to Afghanistan. And it makes you appreciate even more the efforts of Afghans themselves to beat great odds and build a modern Islamic state that can take its place in the community of nations.

Tourism would help the Afghans in economic recovery, but at this time I would not recommend going to that country as a tourist, especially if you’re a woman.

And one has to be deeply committed to a cause, such as alleviating poverty or reducing illiteracy, to want to brave the risks and work for the numerous non-government organizations that are helping the Afghans rebuild their war-torn country. Some of those brave souls are Filipinos, a number of whom are helping the Afghans prepare for the elections on Sept. 18 for their legislature and provincial councils.

Getting there is like going through an obstacle course. The first hurdle will be the visa. There is no Afghan embassy in Manila, so you will have to send your application to another country. Because I had been invited by the Americans, my passport was sent to Washington and then to Germany for my visa. I doubt if tourist visas are being issued these days, when US-led international forces are still coming under attack throughout Afghanistan.

Flying out I stopped over in Hong Kong for the five-and-a-half-hour flight to New Delhi, where I had to spend the night because there are few flights going to Kabul. The flight from Delhi to the Afghan capital is about an hour and a half.

The next hurdle, at least during this time of year when a drought has dried up the Kabul River, is the climate. Noontime temperatures can soar higher than you will ever experience in Manila. Then there’s the brown dust, constantly swirling throughout the country, messing up respiratory systems.

Afghanistan experiences extreme weather conditions. Winters in Kabul can be harsh, dropping to as low as 31 degrees below zero in the last cold season. The rains can pour heavier than in Manila. German Navy Cdr. Alexander von Heimann remembers one particularly bad flood last April, when the river overflowed and covered Jalalabad Road – the main highway connecting Afghanistan to Pakistan – with a meter and a half of water.

That was probably an exaggeration. How does one drive through such a flood? "Very slowly," Von Heimann deadpans.

Jalalabad Road, where Camp Warehouse, headquarters of the International Security Assistance Force, is located, is a moonscape of dirt road and patches of bombed-out pavement. Von Heimann says the biggest casualties of bad Afghan roads are vehicle tires. Brand-new replacements are piled up at Camp Warehouse – tires for armored SUVs, trucks, heavy equipment and armored personnel carriers.

Against the dust and scorching sun a veil can be a necessity. Not to mention the fact that when a woman walks the streets of Kabul with her head uncovered, she can feel like the star in a freak show.

You don’t want to attract anyone’s attention – and you especially don’t want to incur religious ire – on the streets of Afghanistan, especially if you’re a woman walking alone and trying to buy souvenirs in the small shopping district that includes Chicken Street.

Personal security is a bigger concern in the larger, more crowded commercial district around the river, where pirated DVDs are sold on sidewalks together with electronic appliances and clothing. Beggars young and old follow anyone who looks like a foreigner, sometimes tugging at your clothes and asking in the local dialect, "Please give me one dollar." Give one beggar money and in a minute you have a horde of kids and women in burkas following you, hands outstretched for more dollars.

Beggars at least aren’t toting Kalashnikovs or walking around with bombs strapped to their torsos. But they can be spotters for kidnappers out for ransom. Another friendly piece of advice to first-timers in Afghanistan: never follow a set schedule in visiting certain places; never settle into a routine. If you need a taxi, let an Afghan you trust call one, since kidnappers use private cars painted yellow and white like taxis for grabbing victims.

Military camps have scary warnings at heavily fortified entrances, among them: "Lethal force might be used against unauthorized persons." No, I couldn’t take a picture of the sign, because at the entrances there are also signs that warn: "No photographs, cameras; violators will be apprehended."

There has been tremendous progress in the country in the past three and a half years. Women especially have regained many of their rights. About 10 percent of the candidates and 41 percent of registered voters in the Sept. 18 elections are women.

But as one security official puts it, Afghanistan remains a very hostile environment. Our two-car convoy of unmarked vans weaves through traffic with those behind the wheel driving like madmen; any vehicle that tries to cut between the two vans could be poised for an attack and is immediately shooed away.

The convoy will not stop for any pedestrian who is run over, because it could be a ruse for an attack. What if it’s a real accident and the pedestrian dies or is seriously injured? Well, we’re told, we’ll never know, will we?

Small cemeteries can be seen all over the country – a grim reminder of the many who have died in decades of armed conflict. Graves are marked with headstones and green or red flags. Red means the dead was murdered or killed in war; green means death through natural causes.

There is so much misery in the country that shopkeepers, many of whom speak passable English, have even exploited it as a defense against Asians who are experts at haggling. "What is two dollars to you? I am so poor!" is a common line. Often the shopkeeper is right and you feel guilty for trying to cut whatever profit he might make.

The shops selling exquisite carpets, scarves, shawls and jewelry made mostly of silver and lapis lazuli close at 8 p.m. After that there are few places to go in downtown Kabul. Liquor is banned, although some restaurants sell beer from Australia.

Despite the presence of tens of thousands of foreign troops, Kabul is not shaping up like the cities that prosper around American bases. There are no nightspots since that kind of entertainment is still taboo, and all foreign personnel are not allowed to leave their camps or embassy compounds unless they are in armored vehicles and have security escorts for official business.

All supplies at the camps and embassies of coalition countries are imported, including melons and grapes that grow in abundance in Afghanistan. A security official explained that this was so that the Afghan economy would not become dependent on a temporary foreign presence.

Cooped up for months on end at military camps, how do foreigners amuse themselves? Through sports, gyms, TV, the Internet. They hold outdoor barbecues, with Afghans preparing the food.

Afghans claim to have invented the barbecue or kebab, with beef, lamb and chicken ground and formed into balls, then flavored with a unique Afghan blend of spices. That delectable food is available in many local restaurants. The kebab is served with long-grain rice flavored with turmeric, mixed with raisins and bits of lamb and done to perfection. On the sidewalks of Kabul ambulant food stalls sell kebabs as well as shawarma and unleavened flat breads. Starbucks and McDonald’s are not in Kabul and Coke tastes different, but you can get a great cheeseburger with fried egg at Pappa Salli’s, a guesthouse near Chicken Street.

There are Internet cafés in Kabul, but most are open only from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m. Usually that means from 9 a.m. to 7:30 p.m., depending on the mood of the manager. Connection speed requires patience.

Unless you’re billeted at the Hotel InterContinental Kabul, you must prepare yourself for wildly fluctuating electricity, no air- conditioning, and the possibility of malaria during the rainy season when mosquitoes breed.

Kabul has a number of "guesthouses" – backpacker hotels with communal washrooms and bedrooms. Room rates range from $10 to about $50; bedspace is available for $5 a day. Even rooms at the InterContinental are modestly priced at $80 to $120.

Blackouts are frequent, but most buildings have generators. Make sure your laptop has a voltage regulator and bring an adapter. An alarm clock also comes in handy because there are few telephones for wake-up calls.

In the summer the weather is so hot you can dry your laundry on windowsills within four hours. But the temperature plunges as dark sets in, with lows of 1 degree Celsius last month, so air conditioning can be unnecessary.

Many young Afghans in the hotel business are learning on the job, so you may have to give them a little nudge in the right direction.

Upon arrival at one of the better guesthouses, we had to ask for towels and soap. Bring your own shampoo and moisturizer and all personal amenities such as shavers and hair dryers. One guest asked for linen and was told that the thin, frayed sheet covering the mattress was it.

The blankets are heavy and meant for winter; I guess they can double as prayer mats. And the shower has hot water – a necessity during winter.

On our first morning we were awakened by the enchanting sound of lively Middle Eastern music. Breakfast was laid out for us: cups with tea bags, jugs of hot water, flat breads, European cream cheese and Iranian jam.

We asked for coffee and the hotel worker said yes, please wait. We suspected he rushed to the nearby supermarket to buy a bottle of instant Nescafe. So far, so good. Now could we have some sugar? Again he left the hotel and came rushing back, with the sugar in a clean glass container. We asked for spoons, and got them. What about milk, or cream? He heard the milk and was puzzled. But he promptly left, came back, showed us two tetra packs of milk, then rushed up to the kitchen, returning with two cups of boiled milk that he thought we were going to drink. Seeing all the leftover milk after breakfast, he got it; the next morning we had heavy cream for our coffee.

It took another morning before he got around to providing us with blunt bread knives, probably after overhearing our morning banter about the absence of knives at the breakfast table. "You’re in Afghanistan, man," a Brazilian told a Dutch journalist. "You might stick the knife into someone’s back!"

Our bill for almost a week of breakfasts and the burgers: $10 each.

Once settled into modest accommodations, you can tour the city. Afghanistan’s history is not the most inspiring, as you all know. For much of the past two millennia it has been a battleground for local warlords and conquering armies, including those led by Genghis Khan and Alexander the Great.

The country did experience periods of peace. Three decades ago the country had Marks & Spencer and was popular among backpackers for great food, hiking and, yes, hashish.

In the past two centuries the Afghans have fought off British occupation forces and then Soviet invaders. When the Soviets were driven out by the US-backed mujahedeen, the Americans also withdrew, leaving the country in chaos at the hands of tribal warlords and opium dealers.

Into this chaos the Taliban stepped in, with support from neighboring Pakistan. The Taliban fundamentalists restored order in much of Afghanistan but also turned the country into one of the most repressive states, especially in dealing with women. They provided sanctuary to Islamists, including Osama bin Laden, who was in Afghanistan when terrorist attacks were launched in New York and Washington on Sept. 11, 2001.

American retaliation was swift; the Taliban regime collapsed before the year was over. Kabul and much of the rest of the country are still littered with the ruins of bombed-out buildings. In Kabul a tour guide points out mosques and the sports stadium where the Taliban conducted public executions and stoned people who violated fundamentalist Islamic law.

These days the main commercial district in Kabul is bustling, but you don’t want to stand out in the crowded areas of Afghanistan. Many women still wear the stifling burka – light blue or brown clothing that covers everything from head to foot – despite the fall of the Taliban, not just to protect themselves from the heat and dust but also to avoid attracting attention.

Not all Afghan men think like the Taliban when it comes to women. Male shopkeepers of all ages didn’t seem to mind talking to me, a foreign woman walking alone on the streets of Kabul, haggling for scarves and Afghan trinkets.

In the province of Laghman, northwest of Kabul, US coalition troops invited the governor to give us a briefing about reconstruction efforts. The governor, Shah Mahmood Safi, 59, was dressed in traditional Afghan garb. But he had lived in Australia for 15 years and was comfortable with western ways.

During lunch hosted by US forces under Navy Cdr. Frank Gutierrez at the American camp in Mehtar Lam, Safi headed straight to my table and I believe made it a point of sitting right across from me and chatting with me, the only woman among the visiting journalists. He also didn’t mind having his photograph taken with me.

The only port of entry to the country is the Kabul International Airport, and it is under the control of international security forces. If you want to fly out to the provinces, it is useful to have contacts in the military. We took a Chinook ride with US coalition forces to Mehtar Lam and were therefore able to see the countryside.

The Kush Mountains of Afghanistan are so forbidding, desolate and inaccessible except to donkeys that if Osama bin Laden remains holed up in an Afghan cave, that’s punishment enough for him. Much of the countryside remains heavily mined. And no, you can’t let loose millions of sheep to detonate every last mine without loss of human life; we were told that somehow sheep are too light to set off buried land mines.

The valleys, however, are slowly returning to life with patches of greenery and signs of commerce. In Kabul there are roses growing at the 26-acre Babur gardens overlooking the city. Baghe Babur, the largest tract of greenery in Kabul, served as a graveyard for Afghanistan’s Mughal rulers of the 16th century and is undergoing rehabilitation.

Jalalabad Road is a mess, but other road networks out of Kabul, funded mostly by the US Agency for International Development, are so smooth they can put Philippine highways to shame.

Afghans are cramming to learn English, because those who can speak the language are getting the best jobs. Our 23-year-old guesthouse supervisor, who had to drop out of journalism school after his father was killed, pays $50 a month for an hour a day of English lessons six days a week.

Those who work for US troops and diplomatic personnel learn American English, including terms such as "24/7" spoken with an American twang.

Filipinos are all over the planet. Our young Afghan driver said he learned English from a "very kind" Filipina named Mia; a Nepali soldier said he was taught Tagalog by another Filipina named Lilia, and he proceeded to give me some samples: Kumusta ka? Magandang araw!

Kabul is coming back to life, and the activity in the city is reminiscent of Ho Chi Minh city in Vietnam in the past decade as the communist regime slowly opened its doors to the free market.

Vietnamese rulers, however, maintain an iron grip on their country. In contrast, Afghanistan is still building its own army and police, making lawlessness pervasive. There’s no doubt that Afghanistan, including Kabul, is not yet stable enough for foreign visitors looking for an unusual vacation.

Bidding me farewell, our guesthouse supervisor shook my hand and earnestly told me with a smile, "Put me in your bag and take me with you to the Philippines!" I don’t think it was entirely a joke.

At the airport departure area, I was led to a tiny room for a body search by an Afghan woman. After giving me a perfunctory patdown, she squatted on the floor and went back to chopping vegetables in front of a portable stove while a young boy watched.

That she was working at all, unencumbered by a burka, was great progress for post-Taliban Afghanistan.