Before going to Afghanistan, I was thinking about going to more than just Kabul, and the choice in my mind was between Herat in the west, and Mazar-e Sharif to the north. After a little bit of eeny-meeny, I landed on Mazar. My host arranged for the plane tickets.
When finally having navigated the Kabul traffic, we had to go through several checkpoints where I had a pat-down by a guard. And my bags scanned and checked. As an obvious westener, the check looked less thorough than on most others. They patted me down and just barely looked at my bag. I guess I looked too innocent...
The domestic terminal was small to say the least. It had a few checkin-counters. And only one gate. And so I waited. And waited. And waited. My flight was supposed to leave at 6pm. They called out Herat, and all the Herat people left. And still no sign of the Mazar-flight. Many more planes landed. And I started noticing a lot of guys with guns around. And dogs. And a lot of army choppers circling around Kabul.
I struck a short convo with a South African guy. He said that there was some VIP expected, so hence the extra security. And possibly also our delay. He revealed that he was working in a security company that was securing the american troops in Afghanistan. "Say again? The american troops needs defending? I am sorry, but that sounds a bit weird." He laughed. "Yes, I know. But we do handle their security."
The delay dragged on. I had a window seat for this flight, and was hoping to get a good view of the sunset. But the sun set and still no boarding. Soon the skies became dark. And finally, the bus arrived to take us to the plane. We were few passengers. Maybe 30-40. The plane was an older model 737. Probably ex-russian by the looks of the instructions on the seats. The plane accellerated fast on the tarmac, and we were pushed to our seats as it blasted into the skies. I filmed out the window the lights of Kabul as we spiraled upwards before setting the course for Mazar. I looked out the window at the stars, and then I saw the constellation of Orion. I wanted to take a photo, but just as I was ready, they switched on the lights again in the plane, and star imaging went from hard to impossible.
I looked out and tried to see some lights from below, but it was complete and utter darkness. Nothing. Not even a bonfire. The Moon above was the only light I could see. And it was almost directly above. Reflecting off the wing outside.
One thing I didn't expect on this flight : Food! Cold potato chips with cold something deep fried. It tasted like leftovers from the day after a party. Literally. So it probably was. But the non-flavored yoghurt, the bun and the minute-maid was nice. So it was filling. At least good to have something in my stomach before decending on Mazar. Again decending meaning skydiving... I don't know if this was for security or if the pilots just wanted to pretend they were "top-gun" pilots. In which case, I guess I should be thankful they didn't do a loop...
After landing the place taxied to the terminal. A modern terminal built by the Germans. We disembarked and walked across the tarmac to the entrance. I walked straight to the bathroom. Needed to go before starting the search for a taxi. I met mr Security guy again. Asked him for advice on hotel in town. He shook his head. "I'm staying on the base. But have a safe trip. Nice talking to you!" I said goodbye to him and walked out of the terminal. Many guards stood there chatting and laughing. My host had said that I needed to walk quite a bit to get to the taxis. But I wasn't sure which way. So I asked in a "stupid-tourist-who-cannot-even-plan-ahead"-manner "Taxi?". He looked at me, and tried to wave his hands in the direction I was supposed to go. I gave him the "stupid..."-etc. You all get the idea. He started walking and waved me to come with him. After asking several guys stading there looking at "mr stupid tourist" if they where taxis, he finally landed one guy in a private car about to leave. "Taxi?" I asked. He nodded and smiled. Not a taxi. More like the local version of an Uber. On the spot decision to change from guy going home from work, to taxi-driver making money on the way home. I got in, and said the name of the hotel. I had practiced pronouncing the name the whole way. It contained a sound that was a mix between clearing your throat and an "R". I got it right on first attempt. And he blasted off into the night. I looked at his speedometer, and it said 100. I thought "Ok, not too bad". But then I realized it was an american car. Sooo. Miles per hour.
He started asking me the usual. Where I was from, what was I doing, was this the first time in Maraz. And I asked him if he had any education.
"Yes, I'm student!"
"Great! What do you study?"
"Ah...Two years I study!"
"Ah. Ok. But what do you study?"
"Ah. Yes!"
Silence.
"How long till you finish?"
"Aaaaaa. Two!"
"Years?"
"No hours!"
"Two hours?"
"Yeeees. Then I go home!"
Silence while I tried to understand where this convo had gone.
"Are you finished studying in two hours?"
"Yes! I work at airport, then drive taxi, and two hours I go home!"
Aaaa. Back on track. Classic case of lost in translation.
Some hairy driving and a lot of incomprehensible exchange of words later, we arrived at the hotel. It looked like the entrance to a military base. A metal wall with a metal door and a guy with an AK-47 outside.
"Here! Your hotel!" my driver said with a smile. I looked out of the window.
"This? It looks like a trashcan with security." From the description my host in Kabul had given, I expected a luxury hotel. But he insisted. I stepped out of the car, and brought my bag. The driver talked to the guard outside. And he looked at me with suspicion. Then he knocked on the door, and another guard looked through a small peep-hole. After a few back and forth arguments, he opened the door. I had to go through another pat-down, and he insisted on looking through my bag. He wasn't satisfied. My driver said "show him your gun! He wants to see your gun!". "My what?? I don't have a gun!" He explained this to the guard who didn't seem quite ready to believe it. But after looking at me for a few seconds, he nodded me to step inside the hotel.
Inside the lobby was a totally different story. This looked more like luxury hotel. And secure. I counted 12 security cameras in the lobby alone. But when looking around, I saw a spot of problem. The entrance had guards, double steel doors and metal detectors. But right beside it, was a window where one could see the street. So unless it was armored glass, the steel doors wouldn't do much good.
They looked around for a receptionist. Luckily, the one they found, spoke english quite well. They had rooms. I registered and he took me into a beautiful golden elevator (that I the day after realized was a glass elevator. Meaning that I could see the street below when ascending to my floor). And then to my room. He opened the door and, this does not happen often, my jaws dropped. The room was gigantic! More like a suite. With a reception area, work station, several closets, huge bathroom and even a full kitchen. And with a view of the city and the Blue Mosque. I even said "WOW!" out loud and commented on the size. "Ah. Thank you sir!" he said politely and smiled while touching his heart, like they do here. I had so much floor space that I didn't know how to use it all. Loved it. It was late in the evening, so I didn't want to venture outside. I made some tea with the water-heater and just enjoyed myself while chatting with friends around the globe before falling asleep around midnight. Tomorrow was another day.
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| Behind the door is my kitchen and bathroom |
Ragnar
Doing all my own stunts
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