I Luv Faizabad

Travelling in Afghanistan is not for the faint of heart. Even the shortest road trip requires:


a) sports bra
b) neck brace
c) gum guard
d) catheter
The roads seem purposefully designed to inflict the greatest amount of discomfort in the shortest possible time.
BUT
Travelling in Afghanistan is like having the opportunity to time travel. It's utterly breathtaking.
The landscape -- whether sunbaked, snow dusted or quilted in wild flowers -- is quite something. The rugged Hindu Kush certainly leave an impression. And the people, ah, the people. Little boys in sparkling fezzes herd fat-bottomed sheep and shaggy goats. Old men squat next to piles of watermelon. Little girls dressed like nuns make their way to school hand in hand. All of it could be happening 800 years ago...except for the occassional motorised vehicle.
If you want a better description please please please read 'An Unexpected Light' by Jason Elliot. He travels the routes that I know quite well by now and captures the spirit of the place beautifully. A lovely read.

Faizabad is the capital of Badakhshan, the most north-eastern province of Afghanistan, bordering Tajikistan. And if you're still at a loss -- Google Earth!
Badakhshan is gorgeous. It's also the poppy growing capital of the world. At one point I think the stats were in the 90th percentile for providing the world's supply of heroin. While there really are few things lovelier than rolling fields of poppies, it also leads to a lot of unrest as greedy warlords fight over their cut of the profits.
Faizabad is a mere 170km from home in Taloqan, but it takes a whole day's bone shattering drive to get here. Fortunately I got one of very few seats on the tiny planes that help humanitarian aid workers get from A to B in one piece.
Hanging out at Kunduz airstrip (an hour from Taloqan) offers a sneak peek into that other 'foreign' experience of Afghanistan....the armed forces. There's a large military base there and it's very diverting watching the big boys in their full regalia stride about their intimidating land and air carriers armed to the hilt.
On take off yesterday the oxygen masks fell down in front of my face. I remained calm and tried to shove them back from whence they came, but the sign inside their nook read 'Do not smoke while using oxygen' and sent me into fits of giggles ;)
Despite the shakey start, we made our way low over the dusty Hindu Kush and touched down on the weirdest runway in the world. The Russians built an indestructible steel runway that is corrugated, so landing or taking off in Faizabad always rattles your teeth.
Faizabad itself is situated in a steep valley with a rushing river at its heart. It really is a lovely spot. For such a very dry and hot country, there are an impressive number of rivers fed by snowmelt in the Hindu Kush. These rivers are diverted all over the show and the miracle of green is brought to the valleys. Even our compound here is less prison and more mountain retreat. A river runs through the property, large leafy trees shelter a multitude of birds and the gardens are bursting with cosmos and veggies. At dusk I sat beside the river listening to someone playing on a penny whistle while kids laughed in the street and bats ricocheted from tree to tree, I felt utterly content.