Refugee Camp in Kabul

I visited some refugees living on the outskirts of Kabul to see how they were faring this winter, which has been described as the worst in 30 years. The lowest recorded temperature was -30 degrees Celsius.

This was one of a few children who was not wearing pants. I don't know why -- go figure.

Twin girls...

who, like many children at the camp, were traipsing around barefoot in the freezing mud and snow. I, meanwhile, was wearing two pair of ultrasuperwarm hiking socks, fleece long johns, wool trousers and four layer on top, in addition to my wool scarf and cap.

This boy's t-shirt says "Born to be Wild -- Afghanistan" and the little cartoon figure is wearing a dogtag that says "OEF" -- Operation Enduring Freedom.

Kabul's Old City

I wrote about the old city of Kabul -- with its quaint maze of narrow alleys and beautiful mud and thatch houses with carved wooden windows. When standing in the courtyard of these houses, it feels like you're standing inside an intricately decorated jewel box. The slide show with the story includes amazing historical images. (Here's another link to the Old Kabul story on a web site called "Happy News," though it has dubious url links highlighted throughout the story.)


This neighborhood, Murad Khane, was stacked high with mud and trash, which can be seen behind the children in this photo.


There was a massive clean-up, and for a while, this family's door was left suspended in mid-air because its entrance was built after several years of mud and trash had piled up. Their door has since been repaired, but the plastic bags and trash can still be seen on the wall next to their door.

Afghanistan from a Black Hawk

Went for a trip outside Kabul. Here are some pictures of some villages and stunning scenery along the way.

Afghan Ceramics

Stroll in the Snow

I got a visiting friend decked out in proper attire and took her for stroll in the snow outside Kabul.

We met a majestic little donkey...

and a boy with a branch of pine cones.

Landry also got a chance to try out his new Iranian rubber boots, which are very popular among Afghans.


A view of the area from a ruined building.


A river near town.

Suicide Vest

This is a photo, taken over my shoulder, of a defused suicide vest at a news conference. A suicide bomber had been trying to board and attack an army bus, but he was spotted, kicked to the ground and arrested.

There was dramatic TV footage of him being held with his hands behind his back by one sole policeman, who kept peeking inside the man's shirt to see the vest and wires. Other officers in the area stood a good distance away. Then another policeman came to cut the wires.

During the news conference, as police were describing the mobile phone he could have used to detonate the bomb, the tell-tale tick tick and buzz of a mobile phone signal could be heard through the speaker system in the conference room. The sound nearly made me jump out of my seat and run out of the room, I was so worried the cops had failed to properly defuse the bomb.

Hiking the Panjshir Valley

Going out of town eases the claustrophobia of our cloistered lives in Kabul. I went with the roommates to the Panjshir valley, a few hours north of Kabul. After a brief meeting with men from the area, who were watching my roommates' road safety film (basically a public safety announcement), we had a typical meal of nan and kebabs, and then went for a walk by the river.




The tomb behind me is where Ahmad Massoud Shah, commander of the Northern Alliance, is buried. Massoud, who fought against the Taliban, was from the Panjshir valley. He was assassinated in a suicide attack on Sept. 9, 2001, by two Arabs posing as TV journalists who were interviewing him. It is said that the last question he heard was, "What will you do with Osama bin Laden once you have conquered all of Afghanistan?" Enormous billboards of Massoud, wearing a traditional wool pakol hat and looking as if he is earnestly contemplating something, are plastered around Kabul and the northern provinces.

Golfing in Afghanistan

Landry, kicking up a little dust, on his first time ever swinging a club.

The Kabul golf course, on the outskirts of town, is a dusty, desert course, with far more rough than green. The hazards in this course include the many toilets -- as Afghans and their sheep use various parts of the course to do their duty.

Alisa's first round of golf (well, seven holes) since the mandatory golf lessons she suffered as a pre-teen.

Our relaxing Friday afternoon on the course was disrupted by two helicopters passing overhead, while an abandoned tank -- not an uncommon sight in Afghanistan -- stood sentry over the course.

Each shot has to be teed up because there is no grass, and the plastic tees barely sink into the drought hardened land. The course was basically abandoned after the Soviets took over in 1979, and was outlawed under the Taliban. It opened again in 2004, and some friends of ours organize a Kabul Open tournament each year.

The so-called green is covered in a thin layer of black sand. Our caddies accompanied us through the seven holes we played, while the ball boys stand right in the line of fire to make sure we can find our shots. The other two holes were apparently being occupied by picnickers.

Green fee: $20. Tip for the caddies and the cute 9-year-old ball spotter: $20.

Young and In Love?

This is 3-year-old Sunam in her bridal gown and with her 7-year-old fiance/cousin Nieem.

I began working on this story about engagements when a friend told me about another woman, 22 years old, who has been trying for the past eight years to end her engagement. She has been beaten by her family, her fiance and his father, who are trying to force her to marry him; and the fiance has threatened to kill her if she leaves him.

At the same time, I heard about a female journalist who was killed, possibly for family reasons and an engagement. I chased this story at her workplace, but to no avail. I could not figure out why she was killed or by whom.

So as I was leaving the journalist's office, I asked her female colleagues if they knew of anyone who was engaged at a very young age -- a good finisher for the story -- and one woman told us of her neighbors who engaged their 3-year-old daughter with her young cousin. I got their address and went to their home, where the ladies of the home were wonderfully warm and welcoming, as Afghans are. Sunam and Nieem became the main focus of my story.

Our Little Neighbors

We decided to go for a short stroll outside our house to give you a glimpse of our lovely neighborhood. In a country where the average family has seven children, kids are everywhere and their little voices chirp constantly throughout the day.

In front of the gate of our house with our guard.


Landry plays ice cream man. The ice cream vendors usually have cute little jingles that they play as they pedal around the streets here, but one of them has the theme of the movie "Love Story" -- not the cheeriest ice cream music.

Popsicle girl enjoyed hamming it up for the camera.

A little neighborhood stroll -- a common sight around town.

Almost every evening and all day Friday (the Muslim holy day of Friday is the weekend here), we can sit in our yard and see dozens of kites flying in the air. It's mostly boys flying kites, at least on the streets. Here are three kites in the above picture, and below, one boy tries to launch his kite made of a simple plastic bag. It's not as easy as it looks -- my roommates have broken many a kite just trying to get them off the ground.

Home Sweet Home

We live in a two-home compound with about a dozen roommates, a lovely garden and two dear cats.