Afghanistan – part 1

Visited: October 2023

Duration of visit: 5 days

Population: 40 million (2023)

Capital city: Kabul

Estimated reading time: 17 minutes

• Crossing Torkham border – one of the most inhumane border crossing.
• Arranging permits at various ministries in the capital, drinking tea and taking selfies with the Taliban.
• Exploring Kabul markets, mosques and sights, while meeting people who were eager to talk to me.
• Visiting Bamiyan and mourning for the unforgivable & outrageous destruction of 1,500 years old statues of Buddhas.
• Admiring a chain of intensely blue lakes formed from mineral-rich water in Band-e-Amir National Park.

I decided to visit Afghanistan as part of Central Asian trip in October 2023, entering through Torkham border after receiving the Afghani visa in Peshawar (Pakistan) and exiting to Tajikistan at Shir Khan Bandar. I traveled for ten days overland and took a flight from Kabul to Herat in order to save my limited time.

There was not much official information available, but, through a WhatsApp group of travelers, I was well informed about the current situation, conditions of travelling, checkpoints, behavioral habits and risks. I tried to adapt to local lifestyle, customs or appearance as much as possible: dressed in perahan tunban (long top and loose trousers), patu (thick shawl) covering my head or wrapped around my neck and long beard facilitated my meetings with local rulers.

In this article I describe the first part of my trip to Afghanistan in October 2023: violence at Torkham border, meeting the Taliban, permits, chaos and bird market in Kabul, Buddhas of Bamiyan – disgrace of humanity, Band-e Amir National Park – Afghani Grand Canyon.

More articles about my Afghanistan adventures are available here:

I am always excited, when crossing borders. In theory, a small distance can cause a complete change in practice: new rules, language, currency, habits, migration officers, customs checkpoints. Torkham international border crossing between Pakistan and Afghanistan is one of the most legendary crossroads in Asia, where general chaos, rude Pakistani police, hundreds of immigrants and kilometers of loaded trucks occasionally cause riots, violence or even shooting.

A perfect example of how brutal, inhospitable and violent our human race can behave without a justified cause.

Many kilometers before arriving to the border, loaded colorful trucks were parked along the road, waiting patiently for their turn. It could take days to reach the border itself and another day of travelling to a 230 kilometers distant Kabul. During my border crossing, additional pressure was created by groups of illegal Afghani immigrants, forced to return to their homeland by Pakistani authorities.

Arriving there, slightly less people were banded together, mostly Afghani families who are, according to the recent Pakistani resolution, obliged to return home within the next 15 days. Young children screaming, mothers sweating in the morning sun completely covered with burkas, men pushing or screaming: all of them holding to seldom possessions. Some independent men were trying to squeeze in on the side, myself following my friend Mansoor and trying to stay calm in this chaos.

The only way that Pakistani guards and special policemen forces can show their authority is hitting people with bamboo sticks, sometimes breaking them due to the power applied.

But people are not scared, they keep pushing back and determined to not be denied. A stupid act of desperation, completely unnecessary; if we were all waiting patiently and moving without pushing each other, the result would be the same.

Finally, I pass through the first filter.

At various checkpoints they scan my bag and search my body. I get a Pakistani exit stamp in my passport and continue walking through the corridor that is separated by metal fence.

The situation on Afghani side is calmer. After verifying my visa, my passport is stamped. I receive a drop of polio vaccine in my mouth and spit it out immediately. Nobody cares.

I am stopped by Taliban authorities. My first encounter with people who took over control of Afghanistan two years ago. It is very intriguing. A few questions, a glass of water and a cup of tea to break the ice, are offered to me. Since I need a toilet more than tea, I am guided to the praying area, where I can release the pressure.

The officer takes a picture of me with his cell phone and shows me photos of other tourists that have crossed the border recently.

The communication is through translation of my friend Mansoor. The Taliban don’t speak any English. Nobody has a clue where Slovenia is.

“Welcome to Afghanistan. We are opening our heart to offer you hospitality. You are welcome.”

I thank for hospitality and claim it is not fair that he took a photo of me and I cannot do the same to him. He started to smile and allows me to take a shot, “No problem, we can do that. You are right!”

The ride to Kabul is smooth in a Toyota Corolla shared taxi. The road is paved, the mountainous scenery dry, steep and rocky. When we reach plain areas, the land turns fertile, with plantations of many fruit trees and vegetable gardens. We stop in a roadside restaurant for refreshments. Long tables are quickly filled with chapati, biryani rice, vegetables, meet, beans and tea. I feel better after days of stomach infection.

The food is simple, but delicious. We eat with hands, I meet English speaking students, who offer me help in case needed and exchange phone numbers.

There are hardly any buses for metropolitan transport. Almost all cars in Kabul are Toyota Corollas, sedan or caravan versions, approximately 40 to 50 years old.

Surprisingly fluent traffic is based on pushing, seeking and advantage, improvisation and horn indication. Since there are not many motorbikes, trucks, nor rickshaws, crossing the streets is much less challenging. At 1,790 meters above sea level, the temperatures in late October are pleasant, but daylight is short.

The capital city of Afghanistan is full of checkpoints where the Taliban more or less rigorously inspect passing vehicles and walking pedestrians.

Kabul is not particularly famous for cultural landmarks, and the quality of them cannot be compared by international standards. Even though I was considering to hire a local guide before arriving, due to uncertain security situation, at the end, I felt comfortable enough to explore the city by myself.

The next day, my first stop is the Ministry of Information and Culture, to obtain a permission to visit Kabul and other regions in the country. Easy to spot on Google maps, the location turns out to be confusing and heavily guarded by Taliban forces. Asking around, I am sent to the right building, where I have to take my shoes off before entering the office.

A young guy instructs me how to write a formal letter to the responsible person, explaining who I am, what the objective of my visit is and which provinces I am planning to visit. I write the letter by hand, in English.

There are six bored people in the room, working on the same issue: how to kill time. The elderly guy offers me a cup of tea, while the others discuss in their language where the hell Slovenia is.

A copy of my passport is added to the formal letter and I advance to the next building, where a Taliban in his mid-thirties asks me additional questions and offers me more green tea. After 30 minutes of waiting, I receive a permit, that is later signed by the chief in the first office.

I am ready to continue the process at the Ministry of Tourism, only 20 minutes away by taxi. At a random gate that reminded more of an abandoned warehouse metal hole, I am greeted by an old guy, who is accompanied by a uniformed guard. I understand he wants to give me a hug, so I offer him one as well … only to realize that he is actually searching my body for weapons. I smile; he looks at me as if I was crazy.

My regional permission is issued within the next twenty minutes.

“Welcome to Afghanistan. You can travel to all regions, without any other limitations, with or without a guide. Well, I still recommend you to register at all local office in other regions on the day of your arrival!”

No money is requested, no additional explanations are asked. I am offered a colorful tourist guidebook of Afghanistan, but I reject it, since I travel light.

One of the official web sites promotes Kabul as follows:

“The capital city of Afghanistan offers a rich and diverse cultural experience for visitors. Despite its tumultuous past, Kabul is gradually emerging as a popular tourist destination. The city is known for its historical landmarks, picturesque landscapes, and vibrant markets.”

Maybe in 20 years of peace and reasonable leadership Kabul could emerge as a popular tourist destination or possess historical landmarks, but not in 2023.

Babur’s Gardens are one of the top attractions in Kabul, located in the foothills of the Hindu Kush mountains. Built in the early 16^th century, Babur’s Gardens were originally designed as the final resting place for Emperor Babur, the founder of the Mughal empire.

It might have been a great achievement at that time, but these days the poorly maintained gardens offer no more than an expensive, tranquil escape from the bustling city with its terraces, waterless fountains and fruit trees.

Walking along the pathways, I enjoy much more the stunning views of the surrounding mountains and the cityscape of Kabul than the garden itself. At the tomb of Emperor Babur, a white marble mausoleum adorned with intricate Mughal architecture, I meet a group of locals, who explained me some historical facts about the place.

I end up at Mandawi Market by coincidence, when strolling around the capital. Action on every step reflects the atmosphere on the streets that are filled up with restaurants, juice stands, street vendors, shops and people. It is hard to say how much business is actually realized, but sometimes I just stop and observe colorful scenes that take me over.

Kabul Bird Market, also known as the Alley of Straw Sellers, is a narrow lane tucked away behind the main road passing along the Maiwand road, lined with stalls and booths selling birds. I have problems finding the location, so I ask a textile vendor to orientate me to the right direction.

He leaves his stand immediately and accompanies me not only to show where the birds’ market is, but also to guide me around. His English is not good, but he is helpful with some words that make us both laugh on various occasions.

There are different kind of birds for various purposes. Myriad canaries and finches are domestic birds, simply popular for their singing. Kowk (fighting partridge) are kept in domed wicker cages, preparing to fight on Friday mornings with spectators gambling on the result. The street is busy with cages hanging on the street or being elegantly organized in small shops.

I wonder, why birds are so popular in Afghanistan.

Somebody explains me:

“Birds are a reminder of a more peaceful time and a source of music. During the times of wars, fighting, shooting and bombing, it is amazing to return home and listen to the peaceful singing of your birds.”

A neo-Safavid Persian style Saki Shrine is located at the foot of so-called Television Hill, which is entirely inhabited by houses. It is believed that the shrine marks the spot where the cloak of Muhammad was kept on its way to its present location in the Shrine of the Cloak in Kandahar.

The mosque was built in the 18^th century, but four additional domes were added during renovations, which took place between 2008 and 2016. It is known for its intricate tilework and calligraphy.

The mosque is a popular pilgrimage site for Shia Muslims, frequented by Hazara community, therefore, it is periodically attacked by suicidal bombing. The body search at the entrance is precise, the armed guard checks my permission.

I enter the mosque on the left side that is dedicated to male visitors, while women have a separated access on the right side. Due to the early hour, there are only seldom visitors, who pray in peace and don’t pay attention to a foreign visitor.

On account of its beauty, location and peaceful environment, Saki mosque is my favorite religious building in Kabul.

The road to Bamiyan is in good condition, offering some of the most scenic views in the last hour of the trip. Elevating slowly from warm Kabul, the temperatures are dropping in the afternoon, when approaching the final destination.

Bamiyan main street bazaar offers a complex mix of activities that I enjoy as soon as I arrive. Variety of fruits and the range of vegetables is even wider than observed in Kabul. Especially outstanding are enormous cauliflowers perfectly accommodated on vending stands or wheelbarrows. Food stalls and juice masters are exchanging with smoking BBQs and grocery stores, that all seem to offer similar products.

Even though a wide range of vegetables are available on the market, restaurants sell exclusively meat and chicken-based dishes. I don’t have a proper meal in Bamiyan during my whole stay.

Somehow, I compensate the lack of proteins with fruits and Afghan bolani sandwiches – simple dough filled with mashed potatoes and green onions. Freshly deep fried are offered for 0.15 US$ on every corner throughout the day and served with red chilly sauce. Filling, inexpensive and fatty.

The main reason to spend time in Bamiyan is to pay a visit to two 6^th century monumental statues carved into the side of a cliff in the Bamiyan valley.

I walk along the mountain range, where the famous Buddha sculptures used to stand. I sadly think, why on orders from the Taliban founder, Mullah Omar, the statues were destroyed in March 2001, after the Taliban government declared that they were idols.

International, local and any logical opinion strongly condemned the destruction of the Buddhas. The enormous size of both huge holes is visible from a long distance. The smaller 38-meters high Eastern Buddha was built around 570 CE, and the larger 55 meters tall Western Buddha was built around 618 CE, which would date both to the time when the Hephthalites ruled the region.

Before being blown up in 2001, they were the largest examples of standing Buddha carvings in the world.

Technically, both Buddhas were reliefs: at the rear, they each merged into the cliff wall. The main bodies were hewn directly from the sandstone cliffs, but details were modeled in mud mixed with straw, coated with stucco and painted to enhance the expressions of the faces, hands and robes. The red paint on the larger one and multiple colors on the smaller Buddha were gone a long time before the Taliban’s atrocity.

This holy site for Buddhists on the ancient Silk Road is magic in the early morning, even after the destruction. The Buddhas holes are surrounded by numerous caves and surfaces decorated with paintings.

In town, people are starting their daily activities, going to the market, working at the fields, driving here and there, leading sheep to pasture or just wandering around.

The only people missing are the Taliban, who these days guard the main tourist attraction in town. What an irony! First you blow up the Buddhas to later guard the destroyed sites and charge entrance fee!

I return back to my hotel for breakfast, which is always included in the price, even at simple guesthouses in Afghanistan. Two employees of national electrical company invite me to join them at their table, offer me local honey and share stories from their work.

Local power plants can supply only a small part of the energy needed by the community and the electrical grid system does not transfer enough power for the normal functioning of the town. Constant power outages are part of everyday life. In the past, it was somehow easier to work with the help of international organizations, which provided technical help and materials that are no longer available these days.

In the evening, I meet a crazy Spanish guy, Joaquin. It is getting cold in the evening and it is apparently the last night before stoves would be installed to the hotel rooms. Instead of freezing in cold rooms without stable wi-fi connection, we join a security guard and his assistant in their small shelter that was pleasantly warmed by a Turkish stove, loaded with wood and charcoal. During a long conversation we drink tea, eat dinner and fruits.

One of the guys is engaged and claims that he must save 10,000 US$ in order to marry his cousin.

Almost an impossible task, considering his monthly salary of 150.00 US$, that is partially reduced to cover expenses of his family at home. We analyze all legal and illegal options to collect money within reasonable amount of time (a few years).

The Spanish guy was full of funny ideas, but at the end the only reasonable option seems to be working with tourists, offering them extra activities, guiding, advices and sell some souvenirs.

The national park of Band-e Amir is the most famous natural landmark of Afghanistan; the first national park to promote and protect the natural beauty of a series of six intensely blue lakes, created by natural dams, in the mountainous desert of central Afghanistan.

Since there are no other backpackers in town, I must hire the whole taxi for myself. After short, but though negotiations, I agree on rental conditions. The driver is cordial and humble, but doesn’t speak almost any English.

The communication during one-and-a-half-hour drive is limited to basic words, “Slow down, stop, photo, how much, … and family members!”

Nevertheless, he does the job faultlessly; his rundown Toyota Corolla bring us to the magic lakes without any inconvenience.

We stop at the viewpoint on the top of the hill, overviewing the second lake, with fantastic bare mountains range in the backside, exchanging colors and reflection in the water surface, bathed in midday sun.

Band-e Amir is one of the few rare natural lakes in the world which are created by travertine systems. The lakes were formed from mineral-rich water that seeped out of faults and cracks in the rocky landscape. Over time, the water deposited layers of hardened mineral (travertine) that built up into walls that now contain the water.

This oasis of peace is known for employing the first-ever female park rangers in this conservative country and attracting thousands of visitors until 2018.

With the return of the Taliban, the priorities changed to the extreme that in August 2023, the Taliban officially banned women from entering the park, alleging that women had not been properly wearing hijab.

As in many other places around Afghanistan, there seem to be many exceptions or not obeying of the rules. Among infrequent visitors I spot families with children and women. Some of them quite liberally dressed for strict local laws.

Swan peddle boats available for rent are not appropriate as they could ruin the natural environment and I don’t think they offer any better view of the area. The water is supposed to cure from certain skin diseases, but it is too cold for me to jump in.