Curse of the Expat

Being an expat is a horrible thing. You live life in a privileged, lonely, often poisoned bubble. The only thing worse is 'going native.' Here in Faizabad there's an enclave of, for lack of a more p.c. phrase, religious freaks who dress like the locals, ie. pj's/salwar kameez for the men & heavy synthetic shrouds for the women. They even have kids. This is slightly odd in a country that is listed as 'unaccompanied posts' only. Meaning, too dangerous/inappropriate to bring the spouse and kids along. But each to his own.
As an expat you try to be considerate of your hosts and Afghans are very hospitable. However, a visit to a local home always entails sitting in gender separated rooms, unless you're the 3rd sex (foreign woman) in which case you can dine with men and then go sit with the women. Needless to say this is an awkward setup for those of us used to freely associating with both men and women. Social dis-ease aside, the food is, as I've mentioned before and will no doubt mention again, inedible and often life threatening. Another Afghan custom is giving gifts to the guests, not the other way round. So after throwing up several times as the price paid for courtesy and feeling dreadfully guilty about all the embroidered hankies and nylon headscarves I had been gifted with, hanging out with the locals lost its appeal. Even weddings aren't much fun (usually I relish a wedding ;) as they too are strictly gender divided -- the women stand outside in the compound under the blazing sun, dressed to the nines in more shiny synthetic fabric than I have previously seen in a lifetime, made up with layer upon layer of white foundation and impressive rainbows of eyeshadow. Very 80s. Music blares from a synthesiser decorated with a truckload of plastic flowers as the ladies strut their stuff Bollywood style. The men meanwhile sit indoors and drink tea and eat (you guessed it!) mutton 'n rice 'n grease.
What to do?
Hang out with fellow expats. Hmmm, not as straight forward as it may seem. For such a small stratum of society there are a surprising number of factions. And the petty politics are a not altogether welcome flashback to the playground. Conversation is usually restricted to work and bitching about whichever country you're in. Of course you do meet the occassional gem -- the jokester, the passionate do-gooder, the wise world traveller. More often it's people like yourself, lonely, family and friends half a planet away, intolerant, cynical....you get the picture.
Having said that, I'm absolutely thrilled to have been invited to a barbecue at another NGO's compound tonight. I suppose company is like water -- if you're parched you can't afford to be too picky.