By the Khyber Pass to Kabul

Saturday, March 25, 2006

It was finally time to go to Afghanistan. I was not sure how ready I was to go, but there was no putting it off anymore. I have been thinking about this journey for years. I was nervous, but the practical matter of getting to the border was keeping me busy enought to keep my mind off thoughts of the dangers of traveling in Afghanistan. My hotel offered tours to the Khyber Pass and Afghan border for 2500 rupees (over $40). Sara and Ali had done the tour with the "Prince of Peshawar" for little over 1000 rupees. Mahir Ullah Khan, the self-declaired Prince of Peshawar was a character ran into repeatedly around Peshawar. He ran an Internet cafe, offered tours to tourists, and claimed to be the executive director of a "registered non-profit". He could not be missed, he was always wearing a bright orange fisherman's hat. The Prince or one of his employees were always around pestering me for a tour. Of couse the one time I wanted to see him, he could not be found, either at his shop or on his cell phone. I ended up booking my trip to the pass with the hotel. My driver would be Shah Nawaz who works the front desk at Greens and runs a side business escorting tourists to the Khyber.

Before the trip could start we had to get permits to travel to the border and pick up an armed escort. The region to the west of Peshawar all the way to the border are the tribal areas where the government of Pakistan does not govern. The Khyber Pass is controled by the Afridi tribe and they are the law there. The Khyber Rifles, a regiment of the Pakistani army patrols the Kyber Pass road. An armed escort from the Khyber Rifles is required for all foriegners traveling on the Khyber road. The required permits had to be obtained at the Home and Political offices of the North-West Frontier Province (the provincial governemtn of the region). After being shuttled between the two offices and being presented to various officials the signatures were obtained and we picked up our escort, Wali Gul, from the Khyber Rifles.



On the drive out of town we passed the summuglers market. A huge market were anything you want can be found. Also and extremely dangerous area, not a good place for tourists to visit. As we passed into the tribal area all the home begin to look like small forts. All the houses are surrounded by 10 foot high mud walls. They usuall have some sort of tower at a corner. The Pastun tribal areas are a land of near constant blood-fueds. The fueds are usually over what they call zar, zam, zamin - land, gold, women.



The road was paved almost the whole way to the Afghan border and was in surprisingly good shape. Along the way were several forts manned by the Khyber Rifles. Occationaly there would be hillsides covered with plaques of all the regiments that had served on the Khyber Pass, some dating back to the days of the British Empire. There was once a railroad line that extended all the way to the Afghan boarder, but because of security concerns it fell out of use and in places only the tunnels remain. The drive to the border was uneventful. As we approached the boarder I started getting nervous for the first time. What was I getting myself into? Once I crossed the boarder I did not have any transport arranged. I would have to hire a cab or ride in a mini-bus. The boarder was busy and I was immediatly accosted by porters offering to carry my bag across the border. There were a lot of people and trucks and choas. At the Pakistani customs office where I got my exit stamp I had a very good stroke of very good luck. I met a group of German and Dutch aid workers headed to Kabul. I asked if I could ride with them and they said it would be ok. That was a huge wait off my mind. It would be a major understatement to say I was glad to meet them.

Crossing the border and getting my visa stamped was pure chaos, but I had a ride which was huge load off of my mind. As we pulled out of the border we had an immediate reminder that we were in Afghanistan and it is stil not a safe country. Not a quarter mile from the boarder we passed a still-buring tanker truck. The night before there had been a rocket attack, four RPG rounds had been lauched into the boarder area, one hit the tanker truck, destroying it.



The NGO (Non-governmental Organization) workers were with Shelter Now Afghanistan. They build housing in Afghanistan and Pakistan. Some of the guys have been working in Afghanistan since the 1980s and working in the country even during the Taliban times. One of the guys was even a prisoner of the Taliban and only manged to escape through extreme luck.



As we drove through Afghanistan the signs of war were everywhere. So many buildings we passed were runined or heavily pock-marked by bullets. There were also many encouraging signs. Everywhere we drove I saw people working. Building roads, building houses, tending their fields. What I saw on the drive in is a country activly rebuilding.

After Jellabad we had to take a detour. The main road to Kabul was under construction and was closed we had to take a long detour over the Surubi Pass. This would prove to be a harrowing drive, and added hours to our trip, but it was also the high light of the drive to Kabul. The landscape was incredibly rugged and dramatic. We passed through many small villages and camps of the Kuchi nomads. The pass itself was a white knuckel ride. The entire road was unpaved narrow and treaterous. On the road we passed a tanker truck that had rolled off the side.