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| - - Sometimes
people ask me about what it’s like to live in Afghanistan, expecting a
revelation of sorts as to how some people are able to forge a life here.
And while there’s no surefire guarantee how you will react to the place,
what I have learned is this: in Afghanistan, what looks outwardly simple
often belies a complexity that only surfaces upon careful consideration.
Take the Hindu Kush, for example. |
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| - - It’s just
past midnight on a Thursday evening, and the party is going strong. A generator
pumps artificial light into the green-walled restaurant, where about 50
people sit smoking and chatting animatedly. Beer cans litter the tables,
along with leftover Bratwurst and pistachio shells. And despite the fact
that many of the patrons–UN workers, employees of non-governmental organizations–have
a strict curfew, no one seems headed for the door. |
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