A Snowy Day in Kabul

“When the traveler from the south beholds Kabul, its ring of poplars, its mauve mountains where a fine layer of snow is smoking, and the kits that vibrate in the autumn air above the bazaar, he flatters himself on that he has come to the end of the world. On the contrary, he has just reached its center.”
- Nicolas Bouvier, L’Usage du Monde

Unfortunately, today the phrases “frozen wasteland” and “middle of nowhere” are more apropos. Kabul’s low mud-brick buildings disappear into the white hillsides, and the ring of poplars was destroyed by years of drought and civil war. It’s not actually that cold, but the lack of electricity and insulation make life miserable. You shiver beneath pounds of blankets at night and dine in parka and wooly hat. Shower at your peril in a bathroom where you can see your breath in the air. At the first guest house I stayed at, the room had high ceilings, giant picture windows, and a single space heater which didn’t stand a chance. I awoke early in the morning to move the space heater to the bathroom, thinking I might shower without contracting pneumonia. But after running through my yoga routine, I turned on the taps to discover no water – another frequent headache in Kabul, along with no “landline” telephones. If you want to make a call, you need a cell phone, period. And yet, somehow, we have Internet connections. The lines must exist; perhaps a company to run them does not?