Well here I am in Kabul, not quite settled in as my accommodation isn’t ready yet, so I am housed in a very posh hotel downtown. I have no objection to this at all, but it would be nice to unpack.
Flying from London was a nightmare. Iit reminded me exactly why I hate flying Emirates and swore never to do it again unless there was no choice, which there wasn’t. I had 88 kilos of luggage, and that after posting home some 18 pounds. I had brought it all from Hassi on BA and had no trouble at all. Of course the flight only had 17 people on it, so there was no lack of room and weight would not have been an issue. However, Emirates sees these things differently, and I doubt that I’ve ever had a flight with them that went easily, even if I had the right amount of luggage.
There were literally only 33 people on the flight, so weight and space were not at a premium, but they saw fit to tell me that I would have to pay some £600… twice the airfare… for the excess. Now, I did expect to pay excess, and my employer would pay for $500 worth, but this was a complete shock.
I didn’t have a lot of time, so I went to the freight department and emptied approximately half a tea chest from my baggage. This being books and things that I knew I would need, but thought that I could live without if I really had to. In reality, I tossed in things without really looking as time was against me… good thing I got there early.
When I went back to the check in, there were different people there and so the drama started all over again. Having ejected some 28 kilos, or thereabouts, the new check in clerk told me that excess baggage would be in the vicinity of around £580. A few choice words entered my mind, but I remained relatively calm as annoying them would do me no good at all. I asked to see the Emirates Duty Officer as this to me seemed to be outrageous after I had shed so much. For £20, I would have kept the lot. It cost me more than that to send it home.
To cut a long story short, the excess went from £580 to £320 in 3 stages and when tears of frustration started to slide down my cheeks, the price dropped to £92!! Hey, now that was an amount I could live with and I promptly paid it, making a mental note to cry next time an airline played me for a sucker. That may sound a little devious, but it seemed to me that the charge was something totally within their power and since there were only 33 people on board, I couldn’t understand the whole charade. I wondered if I would have to go through the whole thing again in Dubai, when I boarded a new flight, on a different airline, to Kabul.I did not!
My employers had organized for my ticket to be delivered to me and the agent took my baggage checks and said she would organize the transfer of bags. Wow!! That was good service. No excess baggage either.
I arrived in Kabul to a relatively sunny day and was met by the other Aussie and here I am, ensconced in a hotel that is likely 4-5 stars. I’m not complaining. Let me tell you what my first few days have been like.
As I told you in the last mail, I’m employed by the American University of Afghanistan, funded by USAID, to teach on the Foundation Studies Program. It is a new venture and the university opens for the FSP in two weeks time. The General Studies will not start till the new academic year, which is August. The FSP basically gets their English skills up to the standard required for the rigours of university study, although they all have to pass the IELTS or TOEFL before application.
This week has been spent testing students and writing course outlines and I’m now charged with producing all the brochures since they obviously liked the first one I did for them.
Kabul is a large sprawl with a population of about 4 million; though note that there are no real statistics. It appears to be surrounded by high craggy mountains, bleak brown/grey with no vegetation. Dun coloured houses are built right into the mountainside and the colours blend so well that you have to look twice to see them. There are no roads there and residents have to walk to their homes up steep, rocky, non-existent paths. Not only do they have to walk if they are coming home from work or shopping, but they have to carry all their water from the bottom each day. I don’t know the exact percentages, but the amount of housing here without electricity and running water is huge. There are three mountains that traverse the city and virtually cut it into two with a pass enabling traffic, both vehicular and human, to move from one side to the other.
Architecture is a mixture of Russian, up town Pakistani, unadorned mud brick boxes and bombed out buildings that remain from the last 25 years of war. Pavements, if you could call them that, are muddy or non existent.
There are few women on the streets and many still wear the burkha, but you do see women wearing only a headscarf. There are apparently about 2000 expats here working mostly with NGOs but you don’t see them on the streets. Security is high for all expats, regardless of sex.
Our security is headed up by a British ex military man and I doubt anyone could say that we weren’t looked after well. We are driven everywhere, a bodyguard in the car along with the driver. We don’t go anywhere with just one car, there is always an escort or ‘chase car’ which follows the vehicle we travel in. This covers us if there is a traffic accident or any other incident where our car might have to stop. The escort vehicle and the bodyguard are charged with taking us from one car to the other and removing us from the scene altogether, thus avoiding putting us in the centre of a crowd, which will, without a doubt, gather. There are also a number of ‘safe havens’ we can go to should we need to get off the road in a hurry. We also sign in and out as we arrive or move from one place to another. Between 8 and 9 each night, we have to ring the head of security to check in. This gives him reasonable knowledge of our whereabouts if anything were to happen.
I’m told women are particularly at risk with a value of between $50,000 – $100,000 if captured and delivered to the Taliban. There have been no kidnappings for a long time, but apparently there have been some attempts. Hence, we cannot baulk at having to follow the rules. We don’t have to wear a headscarf, but we do carry one with us in case of trouble. We also dress modestly of course.
This is the first time I’ve been under this kind of security and I can see now that freedom is not ever going to be allowed. Inside the office grounds, which we will use until the temporary campus is complete, we are free to do what we like as no one can get in without being thoroughly checked over. Also, in our homes, once we get there, we can wander round as we wish due to the high walls that surround them and the armed guards that man the locked access gates.
There are incidents which we have to report though, even simple things, which in normal circumstances I would deal with on my own. My first night in the hotel a young lad mopping the floor outside my room made very blatant advances… “Can I touch you, can I come into your room?” etc. He was very persistent and I threatened to call reception about him. He left me alone. Tonight, I have had a phone call from someone working in the restaurant who told me he thought I was very beautiful and would I like him to come to my room. Ummm…no thanks. I did report that to reception who immediately placed security on my floor and will check the staff as the caller spoke quite good English. Little things, but mustn’t be allowed to pass without action it seems. If I don’t follow the rules, I am in trouble and could potentially lose my job.
The house I will move into, perhaps by the end of the week, is enormous. It used to be the Ministry of Commerce, but has been unused by them for some time now. The house is amazing in that there are about 6 bedrooms in the main house; some like suites with an ensuite and sitting room, others, like mine, share a bathroom. The lounge is enormous and includes a dining area leading through to the kitchen. My room has a long balcony outside, which is why I chose it, but I gave up a view of the mountains to get that, and it is bigger, giving me room for yoga and such things.
Outside there is a lawn encircled by beds of roses and beyond those is an orchard containing mature apple, pear, apricot and peach trees. On the other side of the orchard is what we call the stables. These low buildings contain several bedroom suites with bathroom/sitting room and also accommodation for the guards. It should be really beautiful when everything bursts into bloom. Of course there is a high concrete wall surrounding the property which makes us pretty safe generally.
We are provided with laptops, wireless internet, TV and DVD players. All this, no doubt to keep us amused while we are locked in. There is a list of approved places where we can shop or eat, but I have not even got around to that yet. These approved restaurants allow expats to drink alcohol, I’m told and we can also buy it at certain places.
Tomorrow…International Women’s Day… I will go out shopping for the first time just to see some of the places that I am allowed to go to.
In my department there are 5 of us so far, with two more coming that I know about. Only one man, as they seem harder to recruit to Afghanistan than females. It’s a nice team and we will all move into The Orchards together, though there is enough separation… private space… so that we don’t have to live in each others’ pockets. We shall soon see I expect. We work 6 days though and are together most of that time, so I expect that a little solitude will be welcome in the evenings and on Fridays when we don’t work.
The staff held a welcome party for me, which was lovely and a lot of fun. There was lots of food and wine and the two teachers I will work with provided the entertainment in the form of a game so that I could get to know something about Kabul. It was very funny, but apparently I am in charge of providing the entertainment for the next new arrival, who comes on the 12th.
Anyway, that’s about it for now. I’m sure I will have more to tell you next time, but I thought I should write and tell you I have arrived safely and am well looked after.
Once Upon A Place 