I have been traveling Afghanistan since late 2003. In that time, I have had occasion to get out and meet some of the Afghani people. Most are like any other people anywhere else in the world. They are living. Working. Loving and Dying. Raising families. Building homes. Surviving. Some thriving. Others eeking out an existence begging on the street. I’ve met government officials. Quasi-government officials. Mullahs. Extremely religious folk. People who could care less about religion. And folks in between who have a love for Allah but are neither dogmatic nor careless about their Islamic faith. I’ve met people who are strangers in their own homeland. Those who have returned to Afghanistan after self imposed exile. Those who fled the Russians, the Warlords and the Taliban. Many of these folks have sought to understand the strange, always laughing American in their midst.

I have had some interesting experiences in this country. Most often in Kabul. Kabul is a more liberal part of Afghanistan. Occasionally, an American can actually speak with an Afghani woman in the open. The first time I spoke with an Afghani woman, I kept looking over my shoulder for the religious police to come take her away. An odd thing about Kabul is that the Kabulis stare at me. Everywhere I went in Kabul, it seemed as if all eyes were on me. Also, if a foreigner stops anywhere in Kabul, he is mobbed. People will come up and ask to shake your hand. They’ll give you the double cheek kiss. They’ll attempt to speak English with you. God help you if you have a camera. Everyone in the crowd will want a picture with you. As if they actually expect you to come back and hand them all out. That was fairly comical.

The picture phenomenon is not unique to Kabul. Everywhere I go in Afghanistan, people want me to take their pictures. They will usually ask you to give them a copy. Random strangers who you will never see again will ask to take a picture with you AND request a copy. It’s comical. They all want a momento of the time that they spoke with the American.

I have done my best to give a good impression of Americans. Tried to leave a lasting and positive impression of our people with the Afghanis I have met. I am confident that for the most part I have succeeded. I’m sure on a few occasions, I have failed in this endeavor. Along the way, I have taken photographs of the people with whom I have interacted. In my experience, the peoples of the world are both unique and similar. We have commonalities. Common experiences. Common beliefs. Yet, we also have traits and beliefs that are so dis-similar as to seem almost to have originated in another world. Such is the case with Afghanistan. Many folks over here could pass for Americans if you dressed them in some Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren. Others could only be Afghan–Tajik, Hazara or Pushtoon. The people in these photos live all across this country. In Qandahar, Konduz, Herat, Kabul, Bamian, Mazr-e Sherif, Gardez, Jalalabad.

The pictures below were taken by myself and others. Since I have been coming to Afghanistan, one thing that has been unique to my experience here is the exchange of photographs. I have given CDs full of photos to friends and acquaintances and I have received the same many, many times. I can not claim credit for only a few of the photos below. This is a collection from many travelers over the space of the past 5 or 6 years. We, who have shared a common experience in Afghanistan, have also shared our photos and memories of the experience.

The Faces of Afghanistan:

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Ahmad Shah Massoud — THE face of Afghanistan. He’s the national hero. He’s the closest thing to a universal Afghani as there will likely ever exist.

An NGO Teacher sits with her student.

Schoolgirls in Kabul. Outside the Landmark Hotel.

Of course, this last fellow is a man after my own heart.

If you can’t figure out why, look at his hat.