back in kabul after a holiday in spain

D. and I spent a lovely 10 days in Spain, first three days in Granada and then the remainder in Barcelona. After the restrictions of Afghanistan, it was delightfully liberating to walk for hours and hours with my head uncovered, to laugh out loud, to share jugs of sangria and bottles of rioja, and munch on patatas bravas and pulpo at most every opportunity.

And now I am back to Kabul, and it feels good. When I stepped out of the airport, the air smelled familiar--something like a combination of dirt and trash and exhaust fumes. It made me happy. And then to be driven home on now-familiar streets, past beggar women in burqas and carts piled high with freakishly large cabbages and terrifically gaudy wedding halls.

We had ash (Persian noodle soup) for supper and a friend came by later to pick up copies of our passports for our trip up to Mazar in two weeks. The weather has turned warm, and Afghan New Year is coming up this weekend.

Life is good.