After this, I’ll never be the same

“When Allah had made the rest of the world, He saw that there was a lot of rubbish left over, bits and pieces and things that did not fit anywhere else. He collected them all together and threw them down on to the earth. That was AFGHANISTAN!”
– A Wise old Afghan Mujahed

After leaving Band-e amir the comfort level dropped dramatically! No more decent roads, or comfortable rides. From then on we crammed into already tightly packed vehicles (of all kinds) and had to share space with chickens, luggage and the rest of the people who had been waiting as long for their ride, as we had for ours. Saying that travel was slow in that part of the country doesn’t paint a clear enough picture. The roads are coated with about a foot of powdery dust. Huge pot holes and stones in the road are the norm. Of course there’s no air conditioning, so everyone opens the windows, allowing a tidal wave of dirt and dust to constantly drench us! We all had our turbans undone and wrapped around our faces, covering our nose and mouth, but that just made it difficult to breath. Before too long, it looked as if we all had dirty (hehe) blond hair. Dirt and dust covered everything, our faces, mouths, the inside of our noses, our arms, backpacks and the whole interior of the jeeps, or whatever we were driving in at the time!

All of that paled in comparison to the pain and discomfort we felt from sitting on bad, or no seats, having our knee’s dig into the seat in front of us (sharp metal bars many times) and going air born with every bump, hole or stone in the road! Sometimes we couldn’t move our legs for six to eight hours at a time and we could never stretch them. We had all been traveling in Asia for a while at that point (well over a year) and had been on countless chicken buses, with little to no leg room, but with the heat, the dirt and the long stretches of driving with nothing to look forward to (no cold drinks at the next stop and no showers at night) and the pain of being stuck in some advanced Yoga position, with metal digging into your knees and people puking out the windows, nothing had prepared us for this test of endurance (since, that’s kind of what it turned into).

So, there’s the background info, now I can fill you all in on where we went after Band-e Amir, and now you know all about our happy times driving there.

We finally talked a driver into taking the four of us to the next village, Yakawlang. The mini-van was already full, but we knew if we didn’t catch this ride now, we’d have to wait a week until the next Friday, when all the Afghan tourists come to the lake, to get our next chance. So, we all did our Yoga in order to fit inside of the vehicle and were baptized for the first time (Oh no…. but not the last!) in our lives… with dirt! Still though, we were excited to move on to a new and different village and we were still in Afghanistan, so we knew that anything could happen at any moment. Upon our arrival at Yakawlang, I (since I was getting sicker) sat with the backpacks, while all of my friends split up to see what, if anything was in this village, but primarily to find a ChaiKhana. Those same routines would be repeated over the next few days as we kept arriving in new villages, with someone different standing watch over our foreign looking backpacks.

Meanwhile, while my friends were gone, word had quickly spread throughout the village that some weird looking whitey’s had arrived. Within minutes, it seemed every male in the village, young and old had come out to see the “whitey’s”. They formed a huge circle around me and since they don’t understand the “comfortable space” between two strangers, that we all take for granted in this part of the world, they got “all up in my Grill!” They were innocently curious though, but it didn’t take them long to come to the conclusion (since I had a Taliban worthy beard at that point) that I looked like a homeless-hippie-terrorist! Anyway, my friends had to push people out of the way like they were in a mosh pit, in order to tell me that the head man (police/political head) wanted to talk to all of us before we stayed or moved on.

So, we met the boss man and he tried his hardest to look more important and powerful than we all suspected he really was, but he was nice and respectful to us. Sharing a pot of tea with us he just wanted to know who we were and what we were doing there. When I told him I was American he just couldn’t understand why I didn’t hire a car in Kabul, since I was rich! In his defense, from Yakawlang westward to Herat, buses are non-existent and flying coaches (mini-vans) are few and very far between. There aren’t many backpackers on a budget here and no one just shows up in some village and waits for the next flying coach to come along. Almost every tourist rents a private car, or sticks to the main roads between Kabul and Mazar-E Sharif, or the okay road from Kabul to Bamiyan and a bit further maybe to Band-e Amir. So waiting hours, sometimes days for a ride turned out to be part of the Afghan backpacking experience. Both of these processes too (meeting the head dude and waiting for a ride) would end up repeating themselves again and again, every time we arrived at a new village. And so it was that in every mud hut, village or town from Band-e Amir westward to Herat, (well, actually Yakawlang, Panjab, La’lva Sar Jangal, Gardani Garmab Pass and Chaghcharan) an Australian, Chinese/Canadian, German and American traveling together, all beat up, sick, skinny, dirty and smelly, met the power drunk man in charge of each his own territory and impressed upon them the superior cleanliness of the developed world.

By the time we got to Lal (La’lva Sar Jangal), Sue the Chinese/Canadian, was ready to give up. Not only did he get food poisoning (or something just like it), but he was also being eaten alive from bed bugs and flea’s, so adding the baptism of dirt, the bland food (the same everywhere… never want cotton seed oil again!!) and the terrible roads, didn’t help much! The rest of us were sore, and running very low on Afghans. To boost our moral level we finally found a well that wasn’t surrounded with woman (not that WE cared) and we each washed up there. Not a shower, but damn it was nice. The woman were beautiful in this part of the country too. The only time we would get a glimpse was while they were washing dishes or clothes at the wells. They didn’t wear Burkha’s in that part of the country and usually didn’t even cover their faces. Their eye’s were beautiful and their hair style only added to their beauty . They braided their hair, wrapped it around their head and clipped it across their forehead and their clothing had, what I can only describe as a Tibetan style to it.

Gardani Garmab Pass (they just say Garmab) was our next stop, it was only three hours (125 Kilometers) away and 100 Afghans each. It wasn’t very far, but it was so hard to find any ride westward that we got all excited and we always clung to the hope that we would catch a direct ride to Herat at the next village. A bigger than normal crowd formed instantly in Garmab and they were right up in our faces again, they were so close to us that we couldn’t even bend over to fix our sandals. Within minutes a young cop broke through the crowd saying that he just received a phone call from La’l (the head dude that we checked in with there). The kid cop (no older than 15) told us “you are very dangerous, you must leave now!”, I think he meant that the town was dangerous? Anyway, without hesitating, we all told him “Yes! We’re very dangerous, kick us out now! Get us a ride to Herat!!!” We told him to ask a nearby truck driver (who was leaving anyway) to take us and we would sit on the roof, but the driver wanted too much money and riding on the roof in Afghanistan wouldn’t be fun! We were kidding around for a while after that about us being such bad asses that we got kicked out of a town in Afghanistan!!

The next day would be our lucky day, we found a driver willing to take us the rest of the way to Herat! Praise be to Allah! We were all relieved about the ride, no more waiting for hours or days, plus after we paid I had only 50 Afghans to my name (one dollar) and just 9 days left on my visa, great timing! Our moods quickly changed when it came time to find a seat and saw that there were already 12 people, plus their luggage inside the tiny vehicle! This was gonna be Bad! We had a broken seat, no cushion under us and metal bars (from the seats in front of us) digging into our knees, and we weren’t even moving yet! We ended up driving 7 hours the first day, 15 the second and 5 the third! I will speak no more of my dark feelings in that vehicle! The one bright spot from that whole drive came when we passed a jeep that had a flat tire and no jack. Our driver, knowing that it could be a long time before another car comes along, did exactly what he should have, he stopped to help change the tire. We all ran out of the Van and stretched and kissed the dirt, we were so thankful to change positions! One by one we looked around and noticed a field with a few farmers close by. Then, almost all at once we noticed that it wasn’t just some regular field, it was an Poppy field! We all ran towards it, looking for red rocks (land mines), but didn’t see any. We had a close look at the Poppy plants and the farmer had a huge smile on his face (way too happy to be working in the sun all day…). We took pictures with the Poppies and the farmers, closely examined the plants and we could see where the farmers cut the poppy to let a soft tar like fluid run out. That (I think) is pure Opium and after they process it, it becomes the devil…Heroin! I wish we had more time there, but as soon as we arrived at the field, our driver was yelling to us to come back. We made him wait a couple of minutes, acting like we didn’t hear him, but making sure he didn’t try to drive away with out us, not that we couldn’t run faster than he was driving though.

In a nut shell, that was how we got from Band-E Amir to Herat. The landscape got greener and greener the closer we came to Herat and the people that only a couple of hundred kilometers east looked Tajik or Uzbek (almost Mongolian looking), now looked more and more like what I expected Afghani’s to look like. That was the end of three of the hardest days traveling I think I’ve ever had (starting back in Garmab), being as sick as I was (running behind a building after every stop, looking for a suitable place to make a toilet) and not being able to eat didn’t help much either, the lack of water and dyheria resulted in me becoming dehydrated as well! Lots of fun! Still though, when we finally rolled up onto smooth pavement for the first time in over two weeks, we would have welcomed any city, no matter how dirty, with open arms. But, it didn’t take us long to realize that Herat was anything but dirty. It was almost clean and it managed to maintain it’s charm and an identity in a country that was almost totally destroyed by constant (30 years) war, that was a sweet surprise.

Then I slept…

Band-e Amir is excellent! This is just what we all needed, we’ve spent far too much time in Peshawar, and then a couple of days in Kabul after that. This is the perfect getaway!

The day before we left Bamiyan, a middle aged Aussie guy (peter) moved into one of the rooms across from us. He’s been EVERYWHERE and he travels on his Harley! Pretty sweet. Anyway, he was also interested in going to Band-e Amir and since 4 other English speaking travellers were headed there he decided to go with us and then come back to check out Bamiyan later, rather than sooner. He left his Harley at the guest house and we all spent the next morning negotiating a price to Band-e Amir. In the end we setteled on 1,800 Afghani’s between the 5 of us (The price included sleeping over one night and then driving back the next day), not bad and much cheaper then we were quoted in the first couple of hours, but still a nice fat amount of money for the driver. And yes, we all spent several hours,(separately) negotiating…

We ended up taking a Jeepish-SUV type thing, so for the first (and last) time in Afghanistan, were were actually very comfortable, plus the road there was good!! The drive only lasted about 3 hours and the landscape on the way looked a lot like Tibet, beautiful! The lakes of Band-e Amir appeared to be in a valley, more like a canyon and when we got to the edge of the cliff overlooking all of the lakes we were all stunned! The deep blue lakes were amazing, perfectly blue and the edges were turquoise. From our view point we could see at least 5-7 lakes spread out between a few miles. Some of them were attached to each other by no more than a foot or two of water, which would eventually make it’s way into the next lake, which would in turn be caught by a natural damn like wall of minerals and other earth like elements. Only small amounts of water are able to escape the security of the walls and would sometimes turn into small waterfalls themselves on the outside of the natural damn. That same waterfall freezes in the winter, would love to see that! To add to it all, the scenery had once again changed. The color of the cliff’s, mountains and natural stone monuments looked orange-ish and a lot like parts of Utah in the U.S. What we saw from the cliff top looked like an elaborate setting for a fantasy movie.

After snapping a few pic’s we jumped back into the jeep, all excited like kids on their way to the beach. After the long winding road we finally arrived. We quickly grabbed our backpacks and scrambled towards the main lake, not worried at all about ditching our driver. As we arrived lake side, there were actually about ten shacks set up selling snacks, drinks and other eatable items as well as the usual cheap tourist items. Next to the shacks, against a cliff wall and further from the water, were three Chai-khana’s (spl?). Chai-Khana’s are common in Afghanistan and they double as restaurants and places to sleep. Chaikhana’s are usually in one big, rough, empty room (no chairs, no tables) and everyone sits and eats on the floor. The kitchen is usually in a separate room and they just make a hole in the wall to make it more convenient to hand out the food. Carpets are rolled out and the food is served on them. When everyone is done eating, the carpets are rolled back up and cleaned outside. The price of dinner also includes floor space to sleep on (no beds though) and is usually around 50 Afghans. We all popped into one and having our priorities straight, in true Asian manner, before even checking out the lakes, we had a pot of green tea.
After negotiating the price for the night, we all set out to check out the lakes. The first thing we did was jump right in and after that, I quickly spotted an 8 meter (about 25 foot) cliff and had to try it out. Not knowing the customs, I jumped off with all of my cloths on. When I resurfaced from beneath the water a crowd had already formed and were clapping and yelling! It was great and I was urged to jump again. The people (sometimes very old) were like little children around the water, curious and playful. It was nice to see that side of those people that have a reputation (and rightfully so) of being hard as nails! To our surprise though almost none of them could swim, which actually makes a lot of sense since Afghanistan is land locked and lakes, even rivers are few and far between. The four of us knew right away that one night wasn’t gonna cut it. After hearing that transportation is spotty at best, Peter wasn’t willing to take the risk of getting stuck there for a week, with his bike in Bamiyan. So, after exploring much of the main lake, the shrine to Ali (another reason Afghans go there) and the surrounding area’s, we found our driver, we told him that we’d be staying until we found a ride further westward. To his credit, he tried his best to explain that we may be stuck there for a long time, we had already assessed that risk and it was one well worth taking. Of course when we got back to the Chai-Khana, the dude that we talked to had changed what we had agreed upon and thinking he had us cornered with no other options, raised the price for the night and also crushed us by telling us there was no more fish, which we really wanted for dinner!

Without missing a beat, we grabbed our backpacks and checked out the other two C-K’s. None of them would even listen to us, I guess the first place had a lot of pull in that area. Just when we were preparing to sleep outside, we ended up meeting the coolest old dude, who had a modest (OK, a beat-up place) little place directly under Ali’s shrine. It had a dirt floor and was cold, but we were all more than happy to not have to sleep outside for the night, on principle. Not only did he (the coolest old dude) give us a better deal than we had first agreed on at the other place, but he also told us that he had fish for dinner!! Ohh Yeah! Since I got sick hitchhiking in Pakistan, my stomach had been terrible and I just couldn’t take all the cotton seed oil that they cook with in that area of the world. At that point my stomach was becoming a real problem and I would have to force myself to eat and then quickly run the toilet!

So, for the next six days life was good! Peter did end up leaving the next day (first morning) and we never saw him again, but the four of us had a blast exploring all of the lakes and walking miles and miles to reach the lakes further away. We even took blankets and sleeping bags, made a fire lake side at the furthest lake, and hung out for the full moon, which made the area completely magical. No mushrooms were needed for that transformation of perception to take place! There is a feeling in the air that’s indescribable in Afghanistan, but much more so in the nights, especially when we were all by ourselves with not a person or light (besides our fire, the full moon and the stars) around for miles! That’s something I won’t ever forget.

We tried to catch a ride further west every day, but no vehicles were heading that way, at least none with any room in them. So,after checking out all of the lakes, we wandered into a near-by village, checked out a school and let the kids laugh at our weird looking selves, then headed further into the village. Some farmers spotted us and brought us some freshly picked pea’s, still in the pods! They were delicious! Any change of diet at that point was (I thought) more than welcomed! I was low on energy by that point, since my stomach was still bad. It sounded like there was a fish in my stomach (and it had been keeping my friends awake at night for days) and I could feel it moving (my stomach) and hear it making loud noises! So, I decided to stop under the shade of a tree and my friends continued on in the same direction. After a quick rest I headed back to our C-K, but I took a different route back, just to see more of the village. I saw a man working hard to make an extension on his mud house on the way and he asked me in broken English where I was from. I told him America and he almost had a heart attack! He begged me to come into his home and have some tea with him, I happily excepted the invitation.

He started yelling into his house and in seconds his five children and wife were there! They all had something in there hands. Blankets, cushions, brooms… They went to work cleaning the area and making it fit for a guest (which they treat as royalty in Afghanistan, make no mistake, these people are amazingly friendly and generous) and in minutes I was sitting down, more comfortably than I had been since Hunza, drinking tea with his beautiful family! Anyway, tea turned into lunch and he proudly told me that he had some special food that he was glad to be able to share with me. His wife brought out delicious freshly made wheat chapatti’s (flat round bread) and right behind it, he was proud to announce, Goat brain!!! You’re really gonna love this! Goat brain is a delicacy there, meat in general is a treat, so I did what any grateful, respectful guest would do, lapped it up with gusto! The meaty chunks actually weren’t bad, but after a minute or two they were gone. With only a soupy, slimy, liquid remaining my meal got a LOT tougher, but I sucked it up (literally) and finished what was intentionally left for me, the guest, to eat! The guy was great though and he told me how happy (no, it’s not a typing error) he, and the whole village was that “the Bush got rid of the Taliban!” I was shocked to here that. It’s hard to find someone who speaks English well enough to have a conversation and if they do politics are usually excluded. He went on to tell me that the Taliban had called the whole village out to witness the execution of six people! Since the village is so tiny, it was no surprise that they were all his friends.

After a couple of hours, I finally left and thanked him with my whole heart for sharing, not only what little food he must have had, but possibly the best food in the whole village. The next day we finally found a ride to the next hiccup of a town, ended the last of our easy, comfortable days in Afghanistan and began the hardest leg of travel that I’ve been through anywhere in the world…