[Previous entry: "Kandahar Chronicles #74 - 21/02/2004"] [Main Index]

02/25/2004: "Kandahar Chronicles #75 - 24/02/2004"

Today I left Kandahar. I packed my bags and threw them in the same land cruiser that brought me in from the airport nine and a half months ago. I said my goodbyes and left them all. I left the guards who allowed me to sleep well at night and the drivers who showed me the hidden streets of the city. I left the men who cooked and cleaned for me whatever my moods or messes. To my logistics team with whom I shared so much. Goodbye cats, Horse, Footsak, Froid and the rest. I said goodbye to my brother Jaweed, who couldn’t look me in the eye but had tears in his. To the expat team, who would only have time to wave before returning to their desks to deal with the always increasing workload. Goodbye to the Coalition and the Taliban, enjoy your war. With my Canadian passport allowing me freedoms unimaginable here, I left the IDPs to scratch out an existence in the dust and send their kids to school through the minefields. Goodbye to the medics to deal with chest infections, malnutrition and the shredded bodies of curious children.

We drove through the crowded streets past neighbourhoods that had become my home. Kids pushing fruit carts and bearded men in rickshaws. A group of women shrouded in blue burkas trying to cross the road with flat Afghan bread in one hand and brightly dressed toddlers in the other. The Red Mosque, the “expat” shop, the blasted remains of the tire shop, bullet scarred walls, donkeys and humvees. We skirted the bazaar, timeless in its chaos and then past the vegetable market beside Mullah Fayed’s home. Then through the endless road construction and under the East Gate, the Taliban Gate. Just like that I was out of Kandahar. I watched it thin out until there were only the ragged tents of the nomadic Kuchis, and then disappear. We tried talking lightly, as if this was just another trip to the airport, but then we just sat quietly. The day I had often longed for had come and left me feeling empty.

It has been an amazing experience. I have travelled far and wide but never have I been part of something so unique and purposeful. Kandahar is a jewel left in the elements too long. Like the beautiful little girl with the scarred face I met a lifetime ago, enchanting and heart breaking. I thought of her on the drive. Why couldn’t I find her again? Take care little angel, for you life can only get better. We arrived at the airport and after a delay spent watching cargo planes shuffle around, the white UN jet appeared in the blue sky. I said my farewell to my friend Hamil and the music and climbed aboard. NGO workers, national and international, off for R and R, holidays, meetings, home. The UN plane accelerated down the runway and lifted off with a bump. I tried to see the city out my little window but she was hidden behind a veil of dust. Just brown desert and rugged mountains protruding like giant, ancient bones pointing to Kabul. Goodbye Kandahar, I shall never forget you.

Thanks for the idea Deebs, thanks MSF for getting me here, thanks to the Afghans for giving me more than I gave, thanks for reading.

Replies: 7 Comments

i have often thought about what it would be like to work in the aid community. now i know, thanks to your entries. where do i sign up? :-)

Brian B. said @ 04/18/2004 12:42 PM EST

Thanks a lot Carlos. You are an inspiration to many people both here in Canada and I'm sure around the world. Thank you for giving us an insight past what we see on the daily newscasts. Thanks for showing us that there are actually people living their lives in that desert. Thanks.

Adrian said @ 03/13/2004 10:30 PM EST

Thank you so much for giving us all a link to what is going on in that far-flung corner of the world. You have given me a gift: a connection to my husband flying one of the never-ending Apaches overhead.
Your words have brought more honesty, reality, and humanity to life in Kandahar than CNN or the BBC ever could.
Thank you.

Heather said @ 03/11/2004 12:19 PM EST

Thank you for sharing your thoughts,experiences and feelings with me. You are truly an inspiration. Your journey has shed light on the generation that has no impulses or motivation to do good. Your chroniclaes are devine.

Anzhelika Zinger said @ 03/08/2004 04:45 PM EST

Thank you for an amazing adventure. I stumbled onto your site months ago and have been locked in ever since. Thanks for the eloquent writing and thanks for allowing me to live in Kandahar through you.

Terry B. said @ 03/07/2004 05:07 PM EST

Thank you for an amazing adventure. I stumbled onto this site months ago and have been locked in ever since. I will miss your eloquent writing and I will miss living in Kandahar through you!

Terry B said @ 03/07/2004 05:01 PM EST

I can't imagine what that was like. To come to a place that appears so foreign, so desolate and a place where you fear for your life and leave feeling emptiness because you know you'll miss it. What an amazing experience. Thanks for taking the time out of your schedule to let us see what it was like.

Charlie Brown said @ 02/28/2004 10:58 AM EST