Living dangerously

KABUL – "Welcome to Kabul," a sign in English and the Afghan script greets visitors arriving at the international airport here.

My welcome to Afghanistan in fact started in New Delhi, and it wasn’t very encouraging. When I asked the guy at the check-in counter of Indian Airlines to give me a window seat to Kabul, he said amiably, "Ma’m, you don’t want a window seat." He promptly gave me my second preference, an aisle seat.

 I figured I would be safer from machine gun fire in an aisle seat, but would it have made a difference where I was seated if the plane had been struck by a Stinger missile? All I wanted was to look at the scenery, but no one was going to put one of the few women on the flight on a window seat.

So there I was throughout most of the two-hour flight, in an aisle seat, craning my neck for glimpses of a barren landscape. For the past two millennia the mountains and valleys of Afghanistan have been a battleground for conquering armies and warring tribes, and the devastation is evident. Amid the breathtaking beauty of snowcapped peaks there are vast expanses of brown where nothing seems to grow. In this city dust constantly swirls around, blanketing everything with a brown patina. Bombed out dwellings and vehicles still litter many areas.

 I am here with a small group of international journalists to witness Afghanistan’s preparations for its second major step toward democracy – its legislative elections – to be held on Sept. 18. My mother told me I was crazy to come here at this time, and she’s probably right; latest reports from this country said Taliban-backed rebels were determined to disrupt the elections by intensifying attacks on every conceivable target, particularly anyone involved in promoting the polls, including foreigners.

But you don’t pass up a chance to witness such dramatic nation-building from the ashes of war and religious extremism. And it puts in a better perspective our problems with our dysfunctional democracy when you witness a country like this one trying to survive amid continuing violence.

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One thing we first-time visitors noticed in this Afghan capital were the unusual number of little shops offering printing services. They’re printing election campaign materials, one of the journalists said, and it seemed he was right: on the display windows of the shops were posters with pictures of people that did look like campaign ads.

Despite the high threat of violence, as of Aug. 4 about 6,000 Afghans had already filed certificates of candidacy for 249 seats in the elections. Close to 12 million Afghans are now registered as voters, with some 1.7 million of them registering only since the presidential election last year.

This time those who want to make the elections work are up against an additional threat. US forces admit that the Taliban, whose support continues to slip as Afghans move to lead normal lives, have started recruiting young boys 14 to 15 years old, who are more easily persuaded to become suicide bombers.

Escalating violence has dampened campaigning, but if last year’s turnout at the presidential election are a good gauge, the Afghans will still come out in droves to cast their votes on Sept. 18.

That public defiance could in turn fuel more attacks as the Taliban desperately tries to sabotage the elections.

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So flying into this city all checked-in baggage must pass through an x-ray machine not just at the port of departure but also upon arrival at the Kabul airport. Three armored personnel carriers stood guard outside when we arrived Saturday morning. The city district where government buildings are located, including the century-old one that houses the ministry of foreign affairs, is ringed with barricades of sandbags, concertina wire and concrete blocks.Going to the foreign affairs office for accreditation is like driving through an obstacle course.

I noticed that the windshields of the two vans that picked up our group were both cracked, and I hoped it was just from the incredible noontime heat.

All around, however, there are encouraging signs that Afghans want a life free of armed conflict. The driver of our van listened to Afghan music on the radio, then switched to a station playing "Frankie" and then to BBC News. There are advertisements for SIM cards, cell phone services, hotels that are certified secure, and even Nokia’s top-of-the-line 9950 Communicator.

The women are among the biggest beneficiaries of the ouster of the Taliban. I still see a handful of women wearing burkas – those blue symbols of Taliban oppression that used to cover everything including women’s eyes, but now there are shorter versions that are paired with other items of loose clothing underneath.

I haven’t seen any woman, however, without a head cover. So I’m wearing a long black veil in a largely futile attempt to blend in – Afghans keep greeting me with "ni hao" – but I’m walking around and filing a story from an Internet cafe alone. People on Chicken Street, the shopping area for Afghan trinkets, seem used to the sight of foreign devils in strange garb, constantly tugging at veils that refuse to stay put.

Our guides, however, emphasize that we should not be too bold and try anything foolish, especially when dark sets in. Impoverished Afghans have learned how lucrative kidnapping for ransom can be. Consider yourself lucky if your kidnappers are ordinary crooks. The real problem is when a victim is turned over to the Taliban or al-Qaeda and the victim becomes an instrument for making another terrorist statement.

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Last year before their first free elections ever, several Afghans including journalists were brought to the Philippines by the Americans to observe our campaign period. Two of the journalists later told me that they were so impressed by the process and hoped they could do the same thing in their country.

I resisted the urge to laugh, but they were honestly impressed. The Afghans defied bombings, kidnapping and other forms of harassment to vote last year, and managed to install a president despite allegations of guns, goons, gold and outright poll cheating.

Will the elections make a difference in Afghan lives? Democracy is not easy; even the Americans can’t count votes in Florida, but at least they don’t kill each other or try to oust a president when they’re not happy with the results of the vote.

Last year voting for Afghans became a symbol of defiance, a message to the apostles of terror that they would not be allowed to prevail. Women in particular were eager to show their defiance. And judging from the interest to participate in the forthcoming elections, the defiance will continue.

The international community, impressed by the Afghans’ determination, are committing money, troops and expertise to help in nation-building and making democracy work.

Among those contributing forces and expertise are the New Zealanders. Today we’re supposed to visit the province of Bamiyan, the site of the giant Buddhas that were obliterated by the Taliban, where about 120 New Zealanders are in charge of provincial reconstruction.

Our visit will be canceled only if our helicopter figures in a deadly collision or is shot down. No need to worry about sitting by a helicopter window.

Afghans face such risks on a day-to-day basis, yet they are determined to beat the odds and give democracy a chance.