foreign

Happiness is finding a full jar of nutella in the fridge.

May 8, 2011 Uncategorized

Outside the window, the sound of an old-fashioned, metal sewing machine is chugging away erratically, mixing with the music of the birds, the dogs, the chickens, the donkeys, the children playing soccer across the street, the cars beeping up on the main road, the lorries laying on their horns, and the hammering of construction somewhere nearby. The breeze is cool and life-giving in the heat of this second-floor room. Yesterday, I arrived in Faizabad via a UN flight from Kabul.Read More

Oh, the usual.

April 27, 2011 Reflections

Today on the carpool ride to work I glanced out the window as we turned onto a busy street in Kulola Pushta, and did a double take. Sticking out from the trunk of the little red toyota corrolla next to us were the raw legs of an animal carcass. With the trunk tied down over the protruding body, four hooves and glistening, flesh-pink legs bounced around as the car manuevered the potholed dusty street. The remainder of the bare bodyRead More

ok, im awake now

April 3, 2011 Reflections

I just had that moment hit me, finally. It took me two weeks of being here, it wasn’t until a few minutes ago while I was standing on the roof of our new guesthouse that I felt the full force of reality: I’m living in Afghanistan. Since I landed, these past 14 days have been spent shuttling back and forth through traffic from my room to the office, stuck indoors and on the street level for about 99% of theRead More