It was mid-morning and Kabul was bustling with energy.
Roads were filled with cars, pickups, buses,
bicycles, motorcycles, minivans,
military convoys, UN LandRovers, and
donkey carts coming and going every which way. Traffic signals and speed limits seemed to be more of a suggestion than an actual rule.
Buildings ranged from tin-sided
shops, glass-covered
banks, and shiny wedding halls to the
skeletal remains from the previous wars. More important buildings— like government offices, military bases, and hotels— were surrounded by high walls barricaded with sand berms, and topped with scribbles of
razor wire. Wartime architecture.
Colorful arrays of produce stacked outside
markets, and small businesses lined the sidewalks selling fresh-baked
naan,
jewelry,
rugs,
clothing, pirated music
CDs, and
sheep. Everyone from beggars to businesspeople were just going about their day— like things may not have been ideal, but life went on.