a triptych

I. We depart for Mazar
on the 8am (oh, now 8:30?) Kam Air flight,
our Ariana flight having been canceled the day before.
At 5:30, Iqbal, our driver who dislikes driving,
is annoyed that I have made him wait five minutes at the gate.
At the airport the security measures change almost daily
Today, first Iqbal is frisked
then then men get out and are frisked
then the women are directed to a shed to be frisked
And the men's baggage is x-rayed
while ours is given a cursory visual search;
then we sit in the waiting area until it's time to ride the bus
40 seconds to the airport entrance
where we are frisked again.
Once we get our boarding passes
We are frisked again.
There is a man outside with two huge rifles and a pistol.
We board the plane, women first, and the men are frisked again.

II. The rauza
is where the body of Hazrat Ali (cousin and son-in-law of Muhammad)
was found in the 12th century (he was killed in the 7th)
(other Muslims believe he's buried in Iraq...)
when he appeared in dreams to 400 nobles in Balkh.
Today it is blue tile and burqas and beggars and boloni-sellers.
Beautiful.
And being the center of Nawroz celebrations, it's still feeling festive.
We walk there from the guesthouse (walking! in Afghanistan!),
take off our shoes and wander the marble courtyard,
photographing tiles and white pigeons.
A man selling amulets also asks to be photographed
and smiles broadly.
As daylight fades the place becomes
a gaudy nightmare of flashing neon, which a local boy tells us is
Beautiful.

III. I feel like myself again
completely, and delightedly
wrapped in a long black coat and bright blue chador
squatting on the sidewalk, haggling in Dari and Urdu,
buying blue glass bangles from tribal women.














the intrepid travelers at the salang pass