Kabul-Kunduz Highway- ( August 31, 2006)- Before our planned trip to go to Tarbuzguzar, a village in the Kunduz province of northern Afghanistan, me and a friend of mine from Pakistan, Muhammad Nadir, and as well as my younger brother Muhammad Zahir, agreed to make this trip shorter, but broader, covering the entire region of our interest in the north.
According to the plan we decided to go by the widely used public transport mode, the ‘bus,' to enjoy closer contact with the people. The Afghan capital of Kabul had several bus 'terminals' depending on the destination, most of which required a taxi ride to reach. We could understand that busses to Jalalabad and Torkham depart from Pul-e Mahmud Khan, near the Id Gah Mosque. Transport to Bamiyan, Ghazni, Kandahar and Herat leaves from Kot-e Sangi (also called Pul-e Sokhta) in west Kabul, past the university. Our desired direction of transport [north] departed from Sara-e-Shomali, on the northern edge of the city.
The majority of buses we found were of the 302 model, second hand buses, recently imported from Germany. Their use in Germany has long been prohibited, due to the quality standards of the country- but it was considered the most comfortable means of transport here.
We also had the opportunity to take a flight, but we were told that there wasn't any proper flight schedule, since airplanes only depart when the pilot manages to attract enough passengers to fill his old Russian style airplane, which could also be dangerous especially in rainy weather.
If the fact of scheduling had been taken into account, the airplane schedule was only a small part of the wider culture in Afghanistan, since bus drivers also treat passengers the same way as pilots of airplanes do. While we bought tickets for 350-afghani each, the clerk told us to be ready at 5:30 am in the departure location the next day. According to the schedule, our bus was expected to depart at 6:00 am- but the driver, who seemed more like a commander than a driver, was very relaxed about the time.
It was 8 o'clock when someone sitting in the back seats of the bus not only broke the eternal silence but also surprised me by calling to the driver to start the engine. The answer of the driver was quite direct and as well unpleasant, ‘Don’t shout old man. If you don’t like to travel- go away’.
It surprised me even more that instead of the driver excusing the comment, he was shouting at the passenger. I was not sure whether to laugh in a situation like this or to get angry. Practically speaking, keeping silent was always useful in a country like Afghanistan. One more piece of advice, if you don’t like to get angry about timing, you should shut-down all things that could indicate the time since you can’t force things moving ahead according to schedule.
After 3 hours of waiting the bus finally, but slowly, started to move. But another interesting story was just about to begin. Unexpectedly, traffic police stopped our bus for a reason that was also unexpected. They said, ‘The bus doesn’t have a light indicator.' The driver was claiming that nothing was wrong with it- as a protest he stopped the bus in the middle of the road blocking all traffic on the highway.
I am sure he could solve this problem by bribing the police officer, but as a former commander, he hardly could expect and could accept such ‘humiliation,' by an ordinary traffic police officer. Inspired from his past, the driver used confrontational behavior against the police from the beginning of the discussion, but in doing so he undermined the authority given to the police officer. When the police confiscated his driving license, there was no space left for the driver to bargain with the police in order to get his license back. However, for the remaining part of the journey in northern Afghanistan, the driver doesn’t needed his driving license anyway, since this was the area strongly influenced by the Northern Alliance commanders. In fact, he himself was one of them before he took the driving seat.
Despite changing their line of work, for various reasons including financial matters, these people hardly manage to change their minds, and behavior, required by the new job they are now responsible for.
Mr. Nadir was an expert on the behavior of the current serviceman but former militia member. He told me one more interesting story, which really describes the sad, as well as interesting, mentality of these people. He said, ‘ The last time I was traveling from Kunduz to Kabul in one of these buses, a person sitting in back asked for some drinking water from the driver’s assistant. This unpleasant ‘order’ made the assistant unhappy so after the second request he took the glass, which was hanging from the roof of the bus and he dropped it into the jar of water. After filling the glass, the assistant gave this to the passenger next to him. This passenger passed the glass to the next passenger and so on. Finally this glass reached its final destination. Before this thirsty man started to drink the water, he saw something swimming in the water and shouted, ‘What is this?’ The driver’s assistant was already angered by his request. Having heard the second question, he perked-up. First he stood up from his seat. Then after turning his face toward the passenger, he put his finger on front of his lips and said, ‘Shut-up!’ in a typical Afghan way. He added, ‘If you would like a drink, this is the water; if you don’t, throw it on your turban’.
I realized this was the final stage before they got involved in physical contact, but as Nadir told me, the passenger was aware of the possible next step, so he calmed down and really did ‘shut-up’, giving the impression that he himself was wrong in asking this question.
This journey took 5 hours, but in a way we discovered a real heaven in this part of Afghanistan. The Salang Tunnel, the highest and one of the longest in the surrounding region, was especially beautiful. Even in this month of the year, with burning summer already starting in many parts of the world, we saw snow on the top of the mountain.
A moment of rest in this mountainside was a pleasant decision made by the driver. I really enjoyed talking to the shopkeepers and waiters as well as restaurant owners, who were excited to hear me speaking in the Dari language. They were so kind, and I used the most effective tactic, which I used to use in my previous professional trips to get frank with local people. Especially when I traveled to Afghanistan in 2002, soon after the Taleban regime fell. On that time all foreign journalists working in Afghanistan was afraid of walking freely among the locals and also were very careful of writing/shooting any story which required public scene and comments, due to fear of being attacked.
But I was far from this fear, since I knew that out of proficiency in the language I need to know only two things, firstly, have a smile on your face, secondly, ‘Asalam-u-Aleykum , while you go to meet with anyone you like.
This tactic was not only enough to convince them to talk, but also to win their ear. After a while of discussion I was not surprised if they invited me for dinner, or even to stay the night. During years of experience working in Afghanistan, I found both the purest love and as well as the harshest ‘hate’ in Afghanistan. And it takes just a second to change both of them in a negative or positive direction. If they liked you, they may not hesitate to be killed for you; if they hate you, it’s very easy for them to kill you just the same, it’s just that simple.
However, out of a minor incident like the negative impact of the food we 'had to eat on the way’ according to my fellow travelers ‘Nadir and Zahir’, all was fine, and we finally reached Kunduz, where another Afghan Turkmen friend was enthusiastically waiting for us as our host. We put the Tarbuzguzar journey aside for the next day and spend a night in the home of Muhammad Shah, a smiling friend. Our next destination ‘Tarbuzguzar’ was only a 1-hour journey.
Dear readers:- in my next diary I will take you to the Tajik-Afghan border, and share ‘my road side stories’ traveling in this part of the country, where mostly Afghan Turkmen lives.
This Diary is based on my travel to Northern Afghanistan- between 20-30 May 2006.
