first glimpses

cloud cover, then snowy mountains, and hillsides in dozens of shades of brown, dotted here and there by little brown villages.

it's snowing in kabul.

we deplane, cover our heads, and are loaded onto a bus which takes us (inexplicably) no more than a few meters to the international arrivals door. we shove into small room to fill out paperwork for foreign registration cards completed by an official who was very put out at having to cut my passport photo down to the correct size. between the four of us traveling together, we have 12 pieces of luggage and we are mobbed by porters who pick up our bags and start walking off. miraculously, all pieces find their way to the van (which we reach by walking across a very muddy parking lot).

i settle into my temporary bedroom in the basement of the guesthouse. the bukhari holds off the winter chill. and i am glad to be here.