First impressions of TK

Here are a few of my first impressions of TK…

Dust. (When people warned me about the dust, especially in my recording equipment, I didn’t really get it. I think I pictured massive dust bunnies attacking my microphone. It’s obviously not that kind of dust. It’s more like very, very fine sand. And it leaves a layer on everything - when you rub your fingers together they feel like they’re coated in a sort of dryness. When I wear my headlamp at night, I can see the dust floating in the beam of light - it’s almost like a snowstorm of tiny, hovering snowflakes.)

Hot pink toilet paper!

Bumpy roads. (And I mean bruisable bumpy!)

There’s a war going on here. (It’s easy to get lulled into the daily routine of living on the camp… but then, suddenly, I’ll see a kid with his gun or a truck heading outside the gates or I’ll hear a story about a firefight or a bomb… and suddenly it’s real again. This is a war zone. A war zone. Crazy. It’s so easy, living in the West and being from my generation, to think that wars only happen in movies. Or very far away. And I guess normally Afghanistan seems pretty far away. But not any more.)

Having a room to yourself is really nice.

Air conditioning prevents sleep.

Heat prevents sleep.

Army girls wear makeup. (At least some of them do. I don’t know why this surprised me - I guess I thought they’d want to be tough like the guys and makeup isn’t what I consider tough? Or maybe that they wouldn’t feel they needed it because they were “one of the guys”? Anyways, it’s made me feel better about wanting to make myself look slightly presentable!)

Smelly feet. (Hiking boots + hot, sunny weather x all day = yuck)

Sunburn. (It happens fast at 1300 meters (about 4300 feet).)

Being stared at. (All my girlfriends thought it was hilarious that I was going to go to Afghanistan where I’d hang out with a bunch of boys… and they kept telling me how much “male attention” I would get. I didn’t really believe it - I kinda figured they’d just be annoyed at having to drag a female journalist along with them. Plus, at 30, I’m kinda an “older woman” here. Anyways. I haven’t noticed so many staring soldiers (though Michel assures me that I am being checked out). What I did find a little strange was when I stopped outside a building site with a bunch of local workers. They not only stared, but they made no attempt to hide it. In fact, other than the guy using the circle saw (who cleverly kept his eyes on the blade), they all stopped working and gaped. The fellow I was with explained that this is pretty normal - he said they’ve been living under a regime that forced them to live in the middle ages… so when they see what our lives are like, they stare, whether it’s at a woman or a computer or whatever. I guess that makes sense. But it still takes a little getting used to.)

Beautiful stars. (When the sun goes down here, it gets really pitch black outside (hence the headlamp to watch the dust) and the stars are incredible… we’ll try and get some pictures…)

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