Driving in Kabul

Well…it’s a bit like herding sheep.

(Granted, I’m not exactly proficient in the ways of sheep herding, but we’ll let creative thought suffice for now.)

The same routine occurs daily at the end of the Ministry of Health workday. The drivers stream though the single entrance parking lot without the slightest consideration of the return route. The cars pile in, and quickly thereafter drivers hop out to chat with a long-lost cousin, grab a cup of chai, and goodness knows what else. Exits invariably consist of long drawn out arguments over how to resolve the unfathomable parking crises, which frequently settles through a number of Afghan men manually moving the now driverless cars. My daily dose of deja vu…

I distinctly recall overhearing a conversation between two colleagues my first week in Kabul.
Dasha: “Are there any stoplights in Kabul?”
Kumar: *Pause*…”No, I don’t believe so. Oh wait, yes…there is that one by the main roundabout.” And then, as if divinely conspired, we arrived at that exact roundabout, driving straight through the red light.

Oh, the simple delights of Kabul...


Driving has proven all the more creative in the rains last week. An anomaly to say the least, Kabul experienced downpours three days in a row. The roads promptly turned to mud (as only a few major roads in Kabul are paved), the once marigold hills turned a smoky brown, and the city’s lacking public sewer system “naturally” networked throughout the city (a thought which I’ve avoided to dwell on at all costs). Though the rain proved quite entertaining within our compound (as we stood inside watching the windowpanes’ fruitless attempt to hold back any amount of water which quickly resulted in compound wide floods) I am reminded of the large toll regional rains have taken. Though 80 people have died in Afghanistan due to recent flooding, this pails in comparison to the near 300 deaths in Pakistan and 150 in India. Though the rain death toll now fades as old news, the impact remains with 1.5 million Pakistanis alone internally displaced and otherwise impacted by the floods. It’s so easy for numbers to remain distant and cold representations of the latest in international news. As I seek to recognize these stories as those affecting my neighbors, I hope it is appropriately reflected in my actions and commitment to this area of the world.