Dawood Khan's Blog

Posts Tagged ‘herat’

Monetary Notes of the World

In Afghanistan, Cambodia, Central Asia, Commerce, Middle East, Useful Information, Vietnam, beauty, culture, thinking out loud on July 2, 2010 at 10:36 pm


Unny and I had this table custom made for our new digs out in the ‘burbs.  Cost a bit, but, not too much.  It’s made from teak wood.  I wanted something in which to display the monetary notes which I’ve collected from my travels.  I only wish that I had some of the notes that are in my storage room back in the States.

There are notes in there from China, Dubai, Kuwait, Afghanistan, Thailand, Cambodia, Laos, India, Iran, Bahrain, Egypt, Vietnam, North Korea and a few other countries.  As well as notes from old French Indochine.  The note with the tiger is from Vietnam during the US war era.  I actually got that one from ebay.com because I thought it was cool.

There are also coins in there from all over (Japan, Malaysia, EU, England, etc).  Some old ones but mostly newer coins.  I placed my three French Indochine Silver Dollars. They’re probably counterfeit, but, I don’t care.  That actually makes them a little more interesting to me and I paid a pittance for them.  3 or 4 bucks.  Nothing to cry over.  I knew or thought that they were fakes when I purchased them.

I also placed of couple of Greco-Bactrian coins in there.  Supposedly, they’re silver and over a thousand years old.  I don’t know.  So many fakes being sold in Afghanistan these days.  Even so, those coins are supposedly a dime a dozen over there.  Chances are they’re real.  They’re not rare, though.  At least not for anyone who’s traveled in Central Asia.  They’re all over the place there.  It is said that one can find them walking out in open ground or on fields and such.  They’re that common place.  Neat little pieces of history.

The necklace is a Kuchi piece that I purchased at a bazaar in Herat.  It’s made of brass and copper with a few worthless gems thrown in for good measure.  It has an old animist relief on it.  Looks to be an old Ganesh likeness to me. I also placed my Bamian Buddha stamps in the lower right corner and four little jewelry/snuff boxes.  The two with Camels depicted on them are from Dubai and made from silver and glazed to make the camel likenesses.  The other two I purchased in Herat.  Those two are supposed to be silver as well.  Though, I doubt it.

There you have it.  My little collection of monies (and sundry items) from around the world.

Masjid Jami

In Afghanistan, Central Asia, Travel, islam on May 13, 2010 at 7:28 pm

Sometime during my tour in Afghanistan, I got outside the wire.  I tend to do this from time to time.  Get out and wander around with a friend or two.

This particular time, I was doing some business with the ANP Province Headquarters.  While there, I crept out with a few guys and one ANP Colonel and strolled over to the Masjid Jami in Herat.  COL Khoda Dad spoke with the head Mullah there and asked him to give me a tour of the Mosque.  After intros were made, I was escorted about and taken to almost every part of the Mosque.  One of the more interesting parts of the tour were when they showed me the room where all of the repairs are made for tiles and such.  They do all repairs by hand.  Exactly the same process as hundreds of years ago when the Mosque was first created.  They even hand paint the ceramics onto the tiles.

I took these pictures as I walked around in awe of the agelessness of the place.

I’m very lucky to have been able to have had this and other experiences in Afghanistan.  I’d venture to say that not everyone has such incredible and unique adventures over there.

Khoda Hafiz!

Touring Herat with the ANP

In Afghanistan, Middle East, Travel, culture, islam, thinking out loud on May 1, 2010 at 12:01 am

http://hereticdhammasangha.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/p1200681.jpg?w=508&h=517

Last few days in Herat.

I had asked General Akrummuddin and COL Zahir to arrange a tour of Herat for me.  There are hundreds of architectural and historical wonders in and around Herat.  The Primary locations being the Minarets, the Citadel and the Masjid Jami.  All beautiful with centuries of history. These structures have been witness to Alexander, Tamerlane, Genghis Khan, Babur Khan and a host of other historical figures of greater or lesser renown.

With about a month to go, I felt safe to get the tour underway.  COL Zahir and General AKs Securty Deputy were worried.  What would happen to them if I were kidnapped or harmed in some way under their watch.  Probably would be a mess.  Not that I’m a huge target or an important target.http://hereticdhammasangha.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/p1200792.jpg?w=222&h=294

http://hereticdhammasangha.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/p1200794.jpg?w=221&h=294I talked to General AK and COL Zahir again.  They arranged everything.

I was given a two vehicle entourage with security guards for protection.  I was driven around the city and taken to the Martyrs Museum, the Citadel, an ancient aqueduct, a couple of Shi’a Shrines in the area the names of which I can’t remember right now (I’ll have to update this later) and to the Minarets and the Ghowharashad Shrine.

The Minarets had to be magnificent in their day.  They’re still a site to behold.  Especially considering the age of the things.  The Citadel was extraordinary.  I was able to get our and mix it up a bit with the locals right around the Citadel.

It was an incredible adventure about which I plan to write more in the future.

For now, I simply wish to share the photos from the event.

Hope you enjoy.

Farewell Party

In Afghanistan on February 21, 2010 at 6:17 pm

I planned a Farewell Party for my guys (and me, of course).

I had Shoaib bring in a Kabob guy from downtown Herat.  Had the whole Afghan Kabob platter.  Cucumbers, tomatoes, lamb, beef and chicken.  Nan (Afghan bread).  Apples and Oranges.  Soda and water.  The meat was grilled right there on Camp Zafar by the Kabob shop owner.  He knew he had to get it right because of our guests.  I don’t reckon it would be good for his business to piss off the Regional Police Commander.  lol

That morning (18 Feb), Shoaib was dropped off downtown.  He picked up the fruit, drinks, the kabob shop guy with all of his supplies and meats and such.  Yama drove them all to the gate.

At about 1030, I headed for Camp Zafar.  15 minutes later, Shoaib calls from the gate.  The ANA (Afghan Army) didn’t want to cooperate.  They wouldn’t let the kabob guy into the base.  I jumped into one of our vans and raced to the gate.  We were running late.  I had expected everything to be set up and smokin’ by 1030.  I rolled up to the gate like the Po Po in Miami Vice and started my routine.  Talking loud.  Shaking hands and walking straight through to where Shoaib was being held up outside the main gate.  I stormed up to the ANA sentry and loudly proclaimed:  “Hey, these guys are with me!”  I pushed them all to the gate and started walking that way myself.

No problem.  It’s fairly easy to deal with the ANA if you are an American.

Finally, my man was on the scene and ready to start cooking.

Fortunately, the ANP are always late.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen them on time.  It’s that whole “insha’allah” mentality.  Things happen according to God’s will and timeline.  It’s just part of dealing with Muslims in general.

We got the kabob guy set up and cooking.  I had told Shoaib to have different types of meat.  I wanted an Afghan style party.  All we needed was for someone to get up in the middle and dance and we’d have been on it.

MG Ak and COL Zahir arrived with about 20 ANP Officers and the security detail at 1200 hours. We greeted them at the side of our class room building and brought them inside to start the party.

I got everyone seated and then stood in the middle to get everyone’s attention.  It was time to give out certificates to my guys ~ Milton, Wahid, Farhad and Shoaib.  I gave a short opening remark then brought my guys in along with MG AK and Al, our MPRI Team Leader, and we gave each of them a Certificate.  I also gave Milton an Afghan Flag on a marble mount with Herat, Afghanistan 2007 ~ 2010 inscribed on it.

I gave a little speech in effect saying that all of my success was due to these guys and that it was an awesome opportunity for me to have worked with them and the ANP as well as all of the MPRI team members.  Over all, Afghanistan has been an excellent experience for me.  I feel honored to have been able to take part in this grand adventure in some small capacity.

MG Ak stepped up next and presented me with another Cert and a beautiful carpet that I’ll probably have framed and hang at home.  It depicts the Minarets and the Ghowharashad Masjid.  It’s quite colorful as well.  I liked it.  He gave a little speech and saying that he’d enjoyed our time together and that I was a true member of the team and had become a part of the Afghan family.  So much so that they had given me the nickname “Dawood Khan.”  Everyone got a laugh out of that.  He presented Milton with a Cert as well and talked him up a bit.

Milton spoke a bit after that.  Thanking everyone for the successes out here and saying that the Herat Team was his favored place of the teams with which he had worked.  And this is true.  We’ve had our squabbles.  Some ongoing.  For the most part, though, we’ve got on like family.  To include the squabbles.  lol  Some of it reminds me of sibling rivalry.  Some of us just want to do the job.  We don’t care about recognition or awards.  Some want to be heroes and want to be recognized as such.  All part of the game.

We had a good group out here.  And it was a joy to work with these guys.

I gave a few last remarks and then said; “Alright, time to eat!”

Then I walked out and started pushing the guys to get the food in to our guests.

At some point, I sat down to eat with MG Ak.  We talked about my plans after Afghanistan.  He asked me if I’d be coming back at some point.  I told him that I didn’t plan to do so, but, that only God knows the future.  Of course, sometime during the conversation he told me to take care of my health because I’d gotten a bit heavy since I’d been here.  lol  I laughed and told him that Unny was making me join a gym in Bangkok.  He got a kick out of that.  As always, he asked after family.  Wanted to make sure that I was keeping in touch with Momma.  I told him that, of course, I was.

I have to say that Shoaib did a most excellent job with arranging everything.  The guy has been key to all my endeavors out here.  I’m lucky to have had such a great friend and co-worker.  Gods blessings.

Everyone ate.  We joked.  Laughed.  It was a good time.

I stood up to ask MG AK for a last picture together.  Called COL Zahir over for the pic.

As soon as MG AK stood, the whole of the ANP stood and started filing out.

We took pics with the General.  All of us together.  Before COL Zahir got away, I grabbed him for one last photo.  He started talking about Bangkok and told MG Ak that I was soon to be married.  lol  MG Ak asked me about Unny.  I showed him a picture of her.  He complimented her effusively saying how pretty she was and that I should take care of her.  Not let her get away.  Get married and have a family.  I told him that this was in my plans.

Then we said farewell for a final time.  MG AK wished me well in my future endeavors and told me to give greetings and his thanks to my Mother for sending him such a “fine young man” to mentor his Officers.  COL Zahir started joking on me and we exchanged a few last jibes.

Then it was over.  As sudden as it started.  In with a bang, out with a bang.

It was a great end to my time here in Herat.

That night and the next day, all of the MPRI guys kept stopping by to tell me that it was a great party and they had appreciated being a part of it.

They had to be a part of it, though.  They were part of my time here.  It’s only fitting that they be in on the end.

I’ve had a great time here in Herat.  It’s been a joy to work here with my American colleagues as well as the ANP and ABP.  They’ve been a great bunch and have helped to make this “tour of duty” extremely rewarding for me.

Below are photos of the event.  There are a bunch, though.  lol  Enjoy and Khoda hafiz.

Thanks for stopping by and feel free to leave a comment or two…

Walking around Camp Stone on a Friday morning

In Afghanistan, Thailand, Travel, Unny, culture, thinking out loud on February 19, 2010 at 2:01 pm

Art for Unny's Bangkok Cafe

I walked over the bazaar to say a final farewell to a friend.  Hossein sells bootleg DVDs at Coalition Camps all over Herat.  I’ve run into him all over the place.  Primarily at the RTC, Camp Stone and Camp Arena.  I’ve seen him tooling around downtown Herat once or twice as well.  We struck up a friendship of sorts over the past couple of years.  So I stopped by to say farewell.

While I was doing that, I ran into the Tea Pot.  Unny wants to have a small cafe in Bangkok.  So I figured it would make a nice piece to display at such a place.  I picked it up for her.  It’s inlaid with turquoise, lapis and some kind of red stone.  I like it.  It’s a nice little piece that I think she’ll like as well.  It’s decorated with figures from Hindu and Buddhist mythology which ties in nicely with Thailand.  Garuda is front and center in the picture.

The other pics are just random shots taken as I waswalking about the bazaar area and the camp.

Pictures from the Road ~ Gozarah District and the Farah-Herat Road

In Afghanistan, Travel, culture on February 13, 2010 at 12:01 am

Enjoy!

Gifts from Amrikkiya

In Afghanistan, Kids, Unny, thinking out loud on February 12, 2010 at 12:08 am

Since the Larry Vaught article a few people sent messages via email that they were sending gifts for my kids.  The first box arrived on Wednesday night.  I called and asked the military for a ride to the RHQ and took the gifts to Nahida, Jalil and Ali.  They were so excited to receive the toys and other items.  It was a cool day for all of us.

This particular box was from a friend from WildcatNation ~ PsychoCat.   Thanks to PsychoCat, I was finally able to give some real girly stuff to Nahida.  Like I said earlier, I’m clueless as to what a girl might want. Nahida loved the gifts and so did the boys. We played frisbee together for about a half hour and then I watched as the boys wrestled and tried to go all John Cena on me. lol Their words, not mine. I barely know who John Cena is…

I want to get these pics posted and I’m tired.  So since a picture speaks a thousand words…

Nahida is so much more vibrant in person than these pics portray.  She’s just super shy.  A lot of it is cultural.  I showed her a picture of my girlfriend Unny and told her that Unny said hello and that she (Nahida) was “such a pretty little gal.”  You should have seen her smile when I told her that.  So cute.  She seemed extremely reluctant to give it back to me.  So I gave it to her.  She kept looking at it.  Then she’d put it in her pocket and then take it out again for a peek.  She asked Shoaib to tell me that Unny was “besyar makbullah.”    I laughed and smiled and told her that I agreed.

Farewell to Afghanistan

In Afghanistan, Military, Politics, UK Basketball, culture on January 16, 2010 at 10:03 pm

6o6th Ansaar Zone HQ

I had this carpet made after the pattern of the Regional Police uniform patch. Plan on giving it as a “Fare Thee Well” gift to the Regional Commander ~ MG Akrumuddin.

Sort of a way of immortalizing myself. haha

I told him a while back to keep a space open on his office wall because I would be giving him something to hang there.

I think it’s pretty cool and had one made for myself as well.

I’ve got 43 days remaining in country and then it’s off to the SEC Tournament, My Family and Unny.   It’s getting close.   Gotta keep my head down and not do anything foolish.

Peace…

The Media: How Do They Get It So Wrong? ALL THE TIME!

In Afghanistan, Literature, Military, Politics, Quotes, thinking out loud on November 17, 2009 at 12:01 am

Camp Phoenix, on the outskirts of Kabul, is run by US forces, with some NATO member nations maintaining a presence there.

It is also a base for the Afghan army, which is being trained by international forces in the hope it can take over the responsibility for fighting the Taliban insurgency.

The camp occasionally comes under attack, mostly from rocket and mortar fire, though without casualties.

Camp Phoenix has never been mortared.  It’s never been rocketed.  Not while I was there.  Not while I was at Camp Eggers and not in the past 3 years.  I’d know.  I lived at Camp Phoenix for one year.  I lived on Camp Eggers for a year as well and visited Phoenix frequently.  I’ve been to Camp Phoenix several times over the past 3 years as well.  I have friends at Camp Phoenix right now.  One who has been there for 3 years.

Camp Phoenix has never been a training base for Afghans either.  Not the ANA or the ANP.  There are two Camps about ten miles down the road called Camp Blackhorse and the Kabul Military Training Complex (KMTC).  Afghans are trained there.  Afghans are trained at Darulaman and there are 2 or three ANP training bases within and around Kabul on which ANP are trained.

I see this happening all the time.  The Associated Press (AP) picks up a story written by some idiot who never leaves the safe confines of his hotel room or villa in Shahr-e Naw or Wazir Akhbar Khan.  These morons report as if they are on the scene.  They mix up place and location.  They hack together stories based on second hand information and pawn it off on the public as gospel truth.  The guy who wrote this story should be fired.  He printed a hand full of lies and sent it in as if he had actually visited the places about which he wrote.  A bunch of older hacks will probably award this poltroon a  Pulitzer and they’ll all sit around in a smoke filled chamber and congratulate each other on their bravery and literary brilliance.

I’ve seen this kind of irresponsible writing of lies and half truths all over the globe.  Korea when Kim Il Sung died.  When Qandahar was attacked.  In Kabul after various attacks.  In Herat after suicide bombings.  From whom do these morons obtain their “facts?”  Dr. Suess?  The Brothers Grimm?  Hanna- Barbera?  Does anyone back home in America fact check or edit their hotel room ramblings?

I read the newspaper and online journals and I often wonder if these folks are even in country.  What happened to reporting from the front?  These guys are reporting from the whorehouse or from the tea parlor.  They’re definitely NOT on the scene.  Not here in Afghanistan.  I can assure you of that.

A day in Herat, Afghanistan

In Afghanistan, Travel, thinking out loud on July 27, 2009 at 12:40 am

MRAP and Horse and Buggy

“Religion does not require women to veil their hands, feet and faces or enjoin any special type of veil. Tribal custom must not impose itself on the free will of the individual.”

Amanullah Khan
King of Afghanistan (1919-1929),
known as the “reform” king.

“We will not be a pawn in someone else’s game, we will always be Afghanistan!”

Ahmad Shah Masood
Prominent Afghan Commander,
fought against the Russians.

“Whatever countries I conquer in the world, I would never forget your beautiful gardens. When I remember the summits of your beautiful mountains, I forget the greatness of the Delhi throne.”

Ahmad Shah Durrani
Founder of the Afghan Empire, (1747-1773).
Many Afghan historians consider Ahmad Shah as the
true founder of modern Afghanistan.

“Once Europe existed in a Dark Age and Islam carried the torch of learning. Now we Muslims live in a Dark age.”

Mahmud Tarzi
Afghan Intellectual,
advisor to King Amanullah Khan
(1865-1933)


They made me invisible, shrouded and non-being
A shadow, no existence, made silent and unseeing
Denied of freedom, confined to my cage
Tell me how to handle my anger and my rage?
– Zieba Shorish-Shamley, from  “Look into my World”  published on the 50th anniversary of the United Nations Universal Declaration of Human Rights

“When we are together, everyone here is talking about how the Taliban has destroyed our lives.  They won’t let us go to school because they want us to be illiterate like them.”
– Nasima, 35-year-old Kabul resident

If you are wounded and left alone
on Afganistan’s plains
and the women come out to cut up what remains
roll over on to your rifle
and blow out your brains
and go to your Gawd like a soldier
go to your Gawd, go to your Gawd….

Rudyard Kipling, “The Young British Soldier”.

Minaret of Jam

In Afghanistan on March 10, 2009 at 8:56 pm
Minaret Jami

Minaret Jami

This is the Minaret of Jam. It’s about a 4 hour drive northeast of Herat on the road to Chist-e Sherif.  The tower has the Sura of Miriam inscribed on mud brick mosaic tiles on it’s outer surface.  The sura of Miriam is the story of the mother of Jesus as told in the Qur’an.  Very little is known for certain about the origins of the tower.  Only that it is an ancient relic dating to sometime around the Ghurid Dynasty of Afghanistan’s history.

he Minaret of Jam is a UNESCO World Heritage Site in western Afghanistan. It is located in the Shahrak DistrictGhor Province, by the Hari River. The 65-metre highminaret, surrounded by mountains that reach up to 2400m, is built entirely of baked-bricks. It is famous for its intricate brick, stucco and glazed tile decoration, which consists of alternating bands of kufic and naskhi calligraphy, geometric patterns, and verses from the Qur’an (the surat Maryam, relating to Mary, the mother of Jesus). For centuries, the Minaret was forgotten by the outside world until rediscovered in 1886 by Sir Thomas Holdich, who was working for the Afghan Boundary Commission. It did not come to world attention, however, until 1957 through the work of the French archaeologists André Maricq and Wiet. Herberg conducted limited surveys around the site in the 1970s, before the Soviet invasion of 1979 once again cut off outside access. The archaeological site of Jam was successfully nominated as Afghanistan’s first World Heritage site in 2002. It was also inscribed in UNESCO’s list of World Heritage Sites in Danger, due to the precarious state of preservation of the minaret, and results of looting at the site.

The photos below were taken by an Afghan friend and colleague a few years ago.  He actually took them with a cell phone camera.  Great photos for a cell cam.  At the time, he was working with the Province Governor as a liaison for NGOs.  He and a few friends climbed in a 4WD and took the 8 hour trek over some nasty terrain to visit the Minaret.  They came south and west from the city of Chagcharan which is the capital district of Ghor Province.  Ghor Province is a part of Herat Region which is where I am working at the moment.

It would be amazing if I were able to visit the Minaret of Jam myself and get out to Chist-e Sherif which is a few hours drive from the area where the Minaret was built.  Alas, it is a treacherous drive and if the terrain doesn’t get you, the taleban or bandits might give it a go.  Perhaps, I will get my chance at some future time.  As for now, it is not to be…

I just returned from Ghor where I picked up this carpet depicting the Minaret. (21 October 2009)

jamchorat rug

Protected: Cruising Herat

In Afghanistan on February 19, 2009 at 7:54 am

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Herat City Map

In Afghanistan on February 15, 2009 at 4:44 pm

oldcity_herat_large2004-masjid-jami-minarets-alexander-citadel

This is an excellent map that gives incredible detail on western Afghanistan’s great Silk Road city.

herat-city-map

The Mountains of Western Afghanistan

In Afghanistan on February 9, 2009 at 12:08 am

p1016829

Minarets of Herat

In Afghanistan on February 5, 2009 at 4:57 pm
The Minarets of Herat

The Minarets of Herat

I can’t get out to these parts of town.

So…I gave my camera to my boys Shoaib and Wahid.  They cruised down to the Minarets and took these photos for me and did a pretty good job of it.

Great photos.  I cropped and shaped some of them up a bit.  The photos give an excellent idea of the experience of visiting these ancient edifices. I would love to be able to get out there someday and see the Minarets myself.  Touch them.  Feel their spirit or their vibe so to speak.

Perhaps I’ll get the chance someday.

These links give a bit of background information about the Minarets.

Wikipedia

Times Online

Letters from Herat

Function of a Minaret

As well as providing a visual cue to a Muslim community, the call to prayer is traditionally given from the top of the minaret. In some of the oldest mosques, such as the Great Mosque of Damascus, minarets originally served as watchtowers illuminated by torches (hence the derivation of the word from the Arabic nur, meaning “light”). In more recent times, the main function of the minaret was to provide a vantage point from which the muezzin can call out the adhan, calling the faithful to prayer. In most modern Mosques, the adhan is called not in the minaret, but in the musallah, or prayer hall, via a microphone and speaker system.

In a practical sense, these are also used for natural air conditioning. As the sun heats the dome, air is drawn in through open windows and up and out of the shaft, thereby causing a natural ventilation.

Minarets have been described as the “gate from heaven and earth”, and as the Arabic language letter alif (which is a straight vertical line).

The world’s tallest minaret (at 210 meters) is located at the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca, Morocco. The world’s tallest brick minaret is Qutub Minar located in Delhi, India. There are two 230 meter tall minarets under construction in Tehran, Iran.

Scenes from Western Afghanistan

In Afghanistan on February 1, 2009 at 5:13 pm

camels-outside-herat

Took this pic on the road to Herat…near the Airport.   It looks hazy because I took it through a bullet proof window.  Thick and dirty glass…so it looks like it’s foggy but, really, it’s a clear day.  And warm for this time of year.  Last year, we had sub-zero weather and 3 feet of snow.  This year.  It’s 50 degrees out.  Can’t complain about that…

Camels are always fascinating for some reason.  Wish I could have snapped a clear shot, though.  Could have been a great shot.  But this one is ok, I suppose.

western-edge-of-the-hindu-kush

Opposite side of the road from the Camels.  Took this shot going out today,  This is the end of the mountains as you hit the plains rolling west through Herat and into Iran.  It’s the same route that Alexander and others used to enter Afghanistan over the millenia.

brown-dog

Big old dog…the Afghans usually cut their ears off and use these bad boys for fighting.  Note those huge paws.  If he was well fed, he’d have to weigh in at 100-125 lbs.  Imagine that coming at you.  This dog was at one of the Police Stations off the main road to/from Herat.  Kind of a guard dog or early warning system.  Hear them barking or growling…look out.  May be the Talibs coming at you.

afghan-squatter

The lovely restroom facilities.  This is a relatively nice one.  ‘Nuff said…lol

drawing-water

This little boy was with his father.  They were contractors building a new room on the roof of the police station.  Water pumps.  In America, this would seem a foreign concept.  But.  This is how much of the world gets their water.  Many do not have this luxury.  It’s a walk to the creek or river or a well.

ac-afghan-style

Old school AC.  I had no idea.  Had to ask.

Herat has a “season” that is called “the 100 days of wind.”  It’s actually closer to 120 days.  The wind blows.  Hard.  Constantly.  For 120 or more days.  HARD!  Did I say hard?  The wind can knock you down it blows so hard.  It’s actually a blessing.  Without the wind, it would be stiflingly hot.

Most of Herat is without electricity.  More of Herat is without air conditioning.  So…they set up a water jug or container of some sort over the brambles in the windows that allows a slow drop into the wood.  The wind blows through the brambles  into the windows and is cooled by the water.   Cools the air in the buildings.  AC!

momma-and-daughter

I’m assuming that this is a Mother and daughter out for an afternoon stroll or heading to market.

minarets
This is the famous Minarets of Herat.  Centuries old.  They are starting to fall because of the traffic on the road that runs between them.  Personally, I can’t believe that they laid a road between them.  If you get up close, you can still see remnants of the oven baked tiles that once covered the Minarets completely.

I was not able to visit these ancient edifices.  Afghan friends used my camera and snapped these photos for me.  I’d love to see these myself.  Walk up and touch them.  It would be quite and experience.

herati-minaret

A falcon or hawk lazily swoops in between the Minarets searching for prey.  There are 5 remaining towers in the Musalla Complex.  The others have fallen.  I think there were originally 7.  The site was built in the 1400s by Queen Gawharshad–wife of one of the Timurid Shahs.  The complex consists of the 5 remaining minarets and several shrines and libraries.

masjid-jami-in-herat

The famous Masjid Jami of Herat.  One of the most beautiful structures I have ever seen.  It rivals the Muhammand Ali Mosque in Cairo for magnificence.   This is the peoples Mosque.  It is the place where the city congregates each Friday.  Building on the Mosque began in 1200 AD.  I’m not certain as to how long it took to complete construction.  It has been badly damaged several times.   Genghis Khan conquered the city on his way through the region and left the mosque severely damaged.

Zarang

In Afghanistan on November 23, 2008 at 8:57 am

zarang-family

A Herati family makes their way about town.

I took this photo while downtown the other day.  I was inside the police headquarters looking out of the gate.

The Pearl of Khorasan

In Afghanistan, Travel, culture on June 20, 2008 at 2:58 pm

Herāt (Persian: هرات) is a city in western Afghanistan, in the province also known as Herāt. It is situated in the valley of the Hari River, which flows from the mountains of central Afghanistan to the Karakum Desert in Turkmenistan. Situated in a fertile area, Herāt was traditionally known for its wine. It is the third largest city in Afghanistan, with a population of 349,000 (2006 official estimate). Persian-speaking Tājiks (or Fārsīwān) are the main inhabitants of the city and are roughly the same as the Persians of Eastern Iran.[1][2]

Herat is an ancient city with many historic buildings, although these have suffered damage in various military conflicts during the last few decades. The city is dominated by the remains of a citadel constructed by Alexander the Great. During the Middle Ages Herat became one of the important cities of Khorasan, and it was known as the Pearl of Khorasan.

Herāt is situated favorably on the ancient and historic trade routes of the Middle East, South Asia, Pakistan,China, India and Europe. The roads from Herāt to Iran, Turkmenistan, Mazar-e Sharif and Kandahar are still strategically important.

from wikipedia

I took these pictures from the inside of an armored F150.

Herat.  The Pearl of Khorasan.  This was and to an extent still is the example to which Central Asia aspires.

Think about that…

About set for my Holiday

In Travel on June 20, 2008 at 12:34 am

Today, I flew from Herat to Kabul.  It’s the first leg of the journey that will be this holiday. From here, I fly to Dubai.  I’ll spend a day there and then fly to the States.

I was so excited to be starting my vacation that I couldn’t sleep last night.  I finally drifted off at about 4:15 AM and had to be up at 5:30 AM.  I jumped up when the alarm clock went off and grabbed my bags and my body armor.  I had to be at the convoy SP area at 5:50 AM.  I got over there with 7 minutes to spare.  Just enough time to run to the DFAC to grab a quick sandwich and some fruit.

The SECFOR took me to the airport where I had to wait for another hour before any signs of life became evident at the civilian side of Hirat Airport.  I was meeting Farhad there at 7:15 so that he could walk me through any problems that might arise.  But I rarely have any problems in Afghanistan.  I just started talking in my meager, “pigeon” Dari and smiling and joking and laughing with folks and I pretty much get away with murder.  I’ve yet to be required to check my bags in Hirat.  They police have always taken care of it for me.  This time, they told me that I could just wait at the terminal and they’d make sure everything went ok.  It helps that I wear the uniform of the US Army.  But usually it’s my easy laugh that gets me through everything with such ease.

This morning when I walked over to the civilian terminal from the ISAF side, several of the ANP Border or Customs Police had little Mississippi pins on their uniforms.  Someone came through and gave several out to the Border Police.  I tolk them that I’d have to rectify that and bring some Kentucky pins back with me to share with them.

In the Airport this morning, there were several women sans burqa.  And some of them were very pretty.  One was Victoria Secret’s model gorgeous.  It was difficult to NOT keep looking her way.  I certainly can’t stare at or check out women in a place where almost all eyes are on me.  I’ve grown accustomed to it but Afghanis stare at me like I’m from Mars.  All the time.  I think it’s funny.  I say hi to everyone.  And laugh about it.

I spent the two hours waiting for my flight talking to the Airport Commander and his officers.  Several of them, I recognized from my time at FDD.  So I used that to start conversations.  Usually I didn’t need to start talking as they were all pretty keen to talk to me.  Or rather to talk to the American fellow with the loud laugh.  One of the Captains explained to me the security features of the terminal and showed me the contraband room.  Drawers full of matchbooks and lighters and sprays and even a couple of jerry cans of fuel.  Afghans attempt to bring some odd things onto Airplanes with them.  Another guy.  A LTC.  He gave me his Field Training Officer badge to wear on my uniform.  This same fellow allowed me to board the plane in advance of the other passengers.  That was quite convenient.

There were several children in the terminal awaiting flights.  I had taken some fruit and pop tarts from the DFAC.  I gave most of it away to the children.  A couple of apples and a banana.  One little girl was crying loudly. I took the banana and gave it to her mother.  I figured most kids love bananas.  It might help. Eventually, she ate the banana and stopped crying.  I gave another little girl a pack of gum.  When I got to Kabul, I gave a couple cute little boys some candy that the Chaplain had given me earlier in the week.  I love getting the smiles in return and the shy little “tashakors” in reply.

Of course, I took the first seat next to the exit when I got on the airplane.  It was a full flight so an Afghani fellow sat next to me.  I could tell that he was confused by my uniform.   I’m obviously American.  Yet, I’ve got Afghani patches and badges all over my unifrorm.  I laughed as I listened to his friend explain it to him.  I could understand pieces of their conversation.

Eventually, I pulled out my iPod.  I watched some videos while I waited for the airplane to take off.  My neighbor was fascinated.  He stared at my iPod like it was magical.  So, of course, I played the videos that I have that have the sexiest women.  Shakira Hips Don’t Lie and La Tortura.  That kind of thing.  I don’t think the guy blinked.

After the plane was safely in the air and we were on our way to Kabul, I put the iPod in my pocket and dozed off.  I was awakened 90 minutes later and told that we were about to land.  Thank God they woke me.  We landed so hard that I’m sure I would have panicked and thought we were crashing had I been asleep.

We hit the ground hard.  HARD.  Then twisted left and right until they pilot got it all under control.  It seemed to me that he took an inordinate amount of time to slow as well.  That’s Ariana for ya.  I’ve heard that they are a bit wild as far as Afghani Airlines go.

We landed.  Boarded a blue bus for the terminal.  Once inside the terminal at Kabul, it is pure madness at the luggage carousel.  There is one baggage carousel.  People coming from Herat, Teheran, new Delhi, Dubai, Qandahar and other places.  Chaos ensues as everyone attempts to get their bags.  There are no signs or announcements.  Just bags flying off the carousel and people crowding forward in an attempt to get their bags or just close enough to see if their bags are coming along.  It’s pretty insane.

After you get your bags, you have to show your baggage claim tickets to exit the area.  Next, you walk over to the practically unmanned x-ray machine to have your bags checked by these wholly “professional” souls.  They barely pay any attention.  Grab your bags on the other end and you are free.

My ride was waiting for me in Parking Lot 3.  So I had a ways to walk.  I walk out of the Kabul Pax Terminal and the sun smacks me in the face.  Then I have to walk through Parking Lot 2 and on to PL3.

Parking Lot 3 is also the waiting area for flights.  A few months ago, it was an open area.  No shelter.  Nothing.  You waited for your flight in the rain, snow, sun, cold or heat.  So basically, you called ahead and arrived no earlier than one hour before boarding.  I waited out there for 3 hours in the hot September sun last year.  I just read a book.  Luckily, it doesn’t rain often in Kabul.

To get to my ride, I had to pass through hundreds of folks who were either waiting to board or waiting for friends, family and colleagues arriving from around the globe.  Of course, I got a hundred confused looks because of my uniform and Afghani police insignia.  I just kept moving and laughing.  Finally, I got through the crowds and Arif was waiting for me on the other side.

I threw my bags in his vehicle and he drove me home to the safehouse.

Now, I’m waiting for my flight to Dubai.  Dubai.  That’s when the fun begins…

It is hot in Herat!

In Travel on June 13, 2008 at 7:28 pm

Hot as hell. Walking outside is like walking into a blast furnace. In 6 days, I will begin the journey that takes me home to my Momma and then on to Asia.  I am so so looking forward to rolling out of here. 9 Days at home to visit my Momma and some of the rest of my family.

Then…

Off to Bangkok for some real fun. Two days there to relax and become acclimated to Asia.

Next stop is Cambodia. Something about that place that I love. I want to explore a bit more. Go deeper into the place. Go a little off the beaten path. I’ll probably spend about 8 days in Cambodia. Two in Phnom Penh and 6 or so in and around Siem Reap. Must see Angkor again, of course. I want to get away and see Battambang and other places that don’t get the usual tramp of tourism. See what I can out there. Just gotta be careful. Landmines out there in the wilds of Cambodia. The Khmer Rouge were as ugly as the Soviets and Taliban when it came to emplacing landmines.

My buddy Becca will join me when I get back to Bangkok and then it’s off to India and on to Egypt. Two of the most exotic locales on the planet. Pyramids and Tah Mahals. Moghuls and Khans and Pharaohs. Perhaps, we should leave early and take a side trip into Jerusalem. I’ve been to Jerusalem before. It’s one of those places where you can feel humanity and the ages speaking to you. History wails through the cracks in the Western Wall. The legend of Christ can be felt there. His pain and his love for humanity. The oppression of both the Roman and Islamic Empire can be felt still floating through the air. The victims still cry for justice. You can smell the blood that has been spilt. Feel the rage of the rebellions and revolutions. Jerusalem is truly a special city. It’s a magnitude of “exceptionality” that one can not comprehend until one has experienced the City of Peace. Likewise, visiting the Pyramids is extraordinary. Thousands of years of history. One follows a multitude of pilgrims to Ghiza, Saqqara and Memphis. Millions of Egyptians look to the Pyramids with pride. Knowing that their country, their culture produced such wonders in antiquity. I’m sure it makes them feel as though they can rise and do so again. With leadership and true philosophy, I’m sure that they could. But Egypt, like the rest of the Muslim world, will do nothing again until they throw off the mind numbing shackles of Islam. Islam where Insha’allah prevails as the philosophy of progress.

India. Who can truly summarize the Golden Continent of Gandhi. All great Empires of the old age coveted this realm of spice and riches and magic exoticism. Beauty and uncommon wealth are ubiquitous on the subcontinent. Yet, dwelling in the house of beauty and affluence is their stepsisters poverty, famine and death. I have read much of India but have yet to experience it. I shall on this journey for the first time. Hopefully, more trips will follow and I will get to know India well.

I still can’t believe how hot it is here today. I don’t want to step outside my door. I don’t remember the Sinai being this hot. I feel like the Sun is a mere inch from my face while outside my door. Scorching my skin. Incinerating my nose and ears. Yet, January saw the worst blizzard Herat had seen in decades. 2 feet of snow. Freezing temperatures.

And I thought Kentucky weather was insane.

I read in the news that Kobe has choked again. Kobe will never be the great player. He will always be the one who could have been. The one who should have been. Too much was given to Bryant. He hasn’t learned that sometimes one has to take the prize. Reach out and make it so. He still thinks that he deserves the prize. No one deserves anything. One achieves or one does not. Kobe does not. His instinct is now and will always be to expect to win. He has not learned that he must keep fighting until the last ounce of sweat has been sacrificed. He still hasn’t learned that he can’t do it alone. He still hasn’t learned that leadership is a full time job. Not a sometimes job. He settles for the question when he should drive to certainty.

Therefore, another Kentucky boy will get a ring.

Go Rondo! Go Celtics!

Iran meets America

In Afghanistan, Middle East, Travel, islam on June 6, 2008 at 2:29 am

irani and me

Herat, Afghanistan

Today, I travelled out to one of he Provincial HQs. I gave a class to some NCOs and Officers of the Afghan National Police. The NCOs looked like boys to me. One looked like he could have been 16. None of the NCOs looked old enough to drink back in the States.

I’ve had several students from this Province attend the course that I give at my home station. While out on assistance visits, I usually run into someone that I know. They are always so respectful. Even those who are years older than I. Today, I ran into several. Zabiuallah Khan, Khoda Dad and a couple more whose names escape me. We stood around and talked about Afghanistan and anything else that came to mind. Some of them are old so they talked about their ailments.

After my class, my two interpretors and I walked outside to grab a smoke. One of my students walked by me looking downcast, so I yelled at him to smile. He replied by saying that it was “too hot to smile.” I laughed and replied; “Never! Never too hot to smile. ” Ya gotta be happy. I stood there and talked to anyone who would talk to me as we waited to depart the AO. I just throw out random “soobha khairs” and “asalaam aleyukkums” and “jor astees” to anyone who looks my way.

Two of ANP soldiers were standing around me and I started joking with them. As we stood there, a fair looking Afghani maiden in uniform walked by us. I think I was the only one who noticed. She was a cute gal. Young, though. She’ll never be more than a tea server here in Afghanistan. No matter how intelligent she might be. It’s a shame. I laugh [in derision] every time I see the publicity for the enhanced rights of women in Afghanistan. It’s a great fairy tale. Women in Uniform. Serving Tea.

I noticed this guy following me around the area. He kept staring my way and edging closer and closer. His act was a bit disconcerting. Made me a bit apprehensive. As I was surrounded by policemen and in a safe zone, I wasn’t too concerned. The fellow was also old and frail looking. Didn’t look like he could carry a bomb much less employ it.

Eventually, the man found the courage to walk up and speak to us.

He was an Irani. From Mashhad. Mashhad is just the other side of the border from Herat. His story was that he was a tourist in Herat. He was attempting to get his VISA extended or something to that effect at the PHQ.

I had nothing pressing going on. Just waiting for my ride back to my present duty location. So I sat there and talked to the guy.

Dave: I wish that our countries were friends. I would love to visit Iran.

Mohammad Alam: It is the Mullahs. They are crazy.

Dave: Well, it’s not entirely their fault. We helped to put them in power with our part in the Mossadegh caper.

Mohammad Alam: It would be good to have peace.

Dave: Indeed, it would. Persians and Americans are natural allies. Not natural enemies. Personally, I think we should shoot all of the Mullahs. Both Christian and Muslim. Then we can all lay religious divisions aside and just get along as people.

Mohammad Alam: Yes. I would shoot them, too. Give me an AK47 and we can be done with them all.

My terps are always nervous when I start conversations like this. Who knows. The guy could have become agitated or someone nearby could overhear and start making noise. We talked further. I’m not proselytizing for Christianity or Buddhism or Zoroastrianism, though. I don’t like any religion. I asked my new friend to trade money as a memento of our meeting. He gave me some Iranian money. I gave him some US money. He kept refusing. But I persuaded him by saying that I wanted him to take a piece of America back with him. But only if it was safe. The taliban have killed several children in Afghanistan for the heinous crime of possession of US dollars. I didn’t know how safe it might be for an Irani fellow to carry dollars in his wallet. After that, we took this picture together. We tried to take one with his phone but his battery was dead. If he was a spy, he was a poorly skilled one and not well prepared either.

So that was my second contact with an Irani in Herat, Afghanistan. The guy may well have been a spy. Information on me won’t do him much good. My terps asked me why I talked to him when he was more than likely a spy. He never asked me anything about my job or why I was in Herat. He seemed excited to merely meet an American. No information was exchanged that could not have been gleaned from my uniform. If the US Army and my employer wanted those things secret, I’d be wearing civilian clothing instead of the uniform. I’m not going to sweat contact with an Iranian or a picture when I’ve had my face plastered on Afghani TV several times. They know I’m here and they know why I’m here.

An Afghan Wedding

In Afghanistan, culture on May 7, 2008 at 8:30 am

Wahid is one of the terps who works with me here in Herat. He’s a pretty laid back guy. We’ve developed a pretty good friendship over the course of the past year. I didn’t always think that such would be the case. So it’s kind of funny to be making that statement. He moonlights at night in Herat as an English teacher. What you see below is the product of 6 months study (and a bit of an attitude…lol) on the part of one of his students. Nether I nor Wahid made correction or edited the piece. This is straight from a 16 year old Afghani male English student.

An Afghan Wedding

In our country Afghanistan, the youths mostly get married in the early ages. And the marriage process has its own traditions and customaries which sometimes make difficulties for the both sides. Comparing to the other countries Afghan people have kept their culture even though it sucks.

Initially the groom’s family propos to the bride’s family through a traditional gathering. They usually do it several times to get the agreement from the bride’s side and in order to become more familiar with them. During the proposing process, the bride’s family investigate to find out more about the reputation of the groom; for example they will check if the groom is a nice guy, he has a good job, he is able to look after his future wife and in the other words if he is healthy and not addicted to the drugs like opium or hashish… At the end if they find out that the groom fits into their family, they will choose him as their future son in law. Then the both sides will be taking care of the wedding traditions. That’s just the beginning of the misery. This misery is definitely pleasant for bride’s side because they get paid really good but poor groom is going to live hand to mouth for the rest of his life.

I read it out loud in our office and everyone burst out laughing. It’s hilarious. And it contains a lot of truth. Reading that passage will give you a good idea of the typical conversation around the office. You kinda have to translate their English along the way. But we have a good time.

We spend a lot of time talking about the cultural differences of our countries. Fawad is another terp in our office. When he first came to work with us, one of the first conversations I had with him was about weddings. He asked me how much it cost to get married in America. I started talking about Weddings and such. But what he was asking about was the dowry. How much for the bride price. In Afghanistan, you have to pay the brides family to marry her. They have a traditional sit meeting called the Nikah where they haggle over the bride price. I’m told that the average is around $5,000.

Another guy who works in my office named Farhad told me that he couldn’t marry the girl that he wanted because his mother refused to participate in the “barbaric practice.” His mother’s words. Not mine. So regardless of Farhad or the girls feelings, they had to break it off. Later, he told me that she was to be married to a guy from Kabul. He was pretty heart broken. But, the girl threatened to kill herself if she was forced to marry. So the wedding was called off.

I’m told that this is common in Afghanistan and Pakistan. A girl being forced to marry someone that she doesn’t want to marry will threaten to commit suicide. Sometimes the wedding is called off. Other times, the father forces the marriage. Sometimes with fatal results.

This is a funny video about attending Afghan weddings.

Here are a few links that give you insight to Afghan Weddings. Good and bad.

Afghan girl in Britain is taken to Afghanistan and Pakistan to find a suitable husband whom she is forced to marry.

Observations from an American (?) Girl at an Afghan Wedding.

Modern Afghan Wedding.

Bamiyan Buddha Afghan Commemerative Stamps

In Afghanistan, Travel, culture on May 2, 2008 at 10:04 pm

When I was a kid, I collected stamps. So when I came across this little gem, I had to pick it up. These stamps are from the time before the Soviet invasion. The time of King Zahir Shah. The last King of Afghanistan. They’re a link to a time when Afghanistan was at peace with itself. When it’s peoples were mostly just neighbors to one another. Before bin Laden and Mullah Omar. A time before sucide bombers and taliban and ruined cities and foreign occupations. This was a time when Afghans looked on their Western visitors as merely strange figures on whom they visited warm hospitality. It was a time when visitors were considered guests and were treated as such. ‘The pushtoon code meant something and the mehmet was indeed a welcomed and honoured guest whether they were Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Buddhist or Jew. Westerners weren’t peace keepers. We weren’t soldiers or policemen or civlian contractors for America or ISAF or NATO soldiers. Westerners were merely visitors with strange behaviors. Strangers who seemed to have an even stranger affinity for opium and hashish. Merchants from the West in search of carpets and tapestries, emeralds and rubies and lapis to sell in their homelands.

Back then, the hippy trail ran through Iran to Herat and on to Kabul. Lone travelers came and left unmolested. The Mustafa Hotel in Kabul gave some respite and a chance to shake off the dust of the road. It still stands and the occasional brave traveler stops there for a night or two until he moves on into Pakistan, Tibet, Nepal and India. I have read that some of the hippy communities still exist in Goa. I’m sure that there are others. Guys who dropped out of the West and traveled to Asia in search of peace or freedom or a final escape.

Afghanistan actually knew peace back in those days. Before the communists came and ruined everything. The King was attempting to make reforms. Give women rights. Construct a constitution. Educate his people and move them into the 20th Century.

What might have been.

So this is a “peace” of that time. A memento as the Afghans like to say. A small reminder that Afghanistan was not always as it finds itself now.

Interesting PDF on the Bamian Buddha Destruction

Jalal al Din Rumi Persian Poet

In Middle East, Music, culture on April 30, 2008 at 12:19 pm
Jalal al Din Rumi

Ghazal 1506

Poetic Translation
believe me
i wasn't always like this
lacking common sense
or looking insane

like you
i used to be clever
in my days

never like this
totally enraptured
totally gone

like sharp shooters
i used to be
a hunter of hearts

not like today
with my own heart
drowning in its blood

nonstop asking and
searching for answers
that was then

but now
so deeply enchanted
so deeply enthralled

always pushing
to be ahead and above
since i was not yet hunted down
by this
ever-increasing love

Translated by Nader Khalili
Rumi, Fountain of Fire
Cal-Earth, September 1994

Masjid-i Jami — The Great Mosque of Herat

In Afghanistan, Travel, culture on March 28, 2008 at 11:18 am

p1013043.jpg

Herat is the largest city in the Western Region of Afghanistan. The city is as old as mankind. It pre-dates Alexander the Great by centuries and has been invaded and conquered by every power to sweep through Asia. Following Alexander were the Ghaznavids, Ghorids, Timurids, the Mongolian Hordes, the Mughals of India and Central Asia. The British tried to take the city through force of arms. The Czars of Russia attempted to steal it away through both armed force and and intrigue. 100 years afer the Czars failed, the communists of Soviet Union invaded and were eventually thrown back across the Amu Darya by the Afghans with a healthy bit of assistance from American Stinger missiles. Lastly, the Taliban took it in the late 90s. As we all know, the Taliban were forced out after the International Community finally came to it’s senses in the post-9/11 era. Presently it is a hesitant member of the Karzai government. It’s chief is held hostage of a sort of the Kabul government so that Karzai can avail the central government of the border taxes from trade with Iran and Turkmenistan.

The heart and soul of Herat is the Masjid-i Jami. The Friday Mosque also known as the Great Mosque and the Blue Mosque. This is the community mosque. On Friday–the Muslim holy day, many of the cities inhabitants gather at theMosque to pray or socialize or just as an excuse to get out on a sunny day and relax among their fellow Heratis. Mosques usually serve as a community center of sorts. They are a place where a city or village residents gather and hear the news or read the Qu’ran. Of course, there is the muezzin calling sura’s from the Qu’ran 5 times a day as well.

Masjid Jami was built bythe Ghurid rulers in 1200 AD making it about 800 years old. By the end of the Century, Ginghis Khan would roll through Herat. Leaving the city and the mosque in ruins. It would suffer through war and natural disaster but ultimately survive. It has been renovated several times over the centures by various rulers who have left their unique cultural mark. As with all Mosques, it faces Mecca. In this case facing South West.

This is a description of the Mosque from 1977. It remains much the same today:

The great mosque of Herat is one of Afghanistan’s more attractive sights. The form in which it stands today was originally laid out on the site of an earlier 10th century mosque in the year 1200 by the Ghrid Sultan Ghiyasuddin. Only tantalizing fragments of Ghorid decoration remain except for a splendid portal situated to the south of the main entrance. (enter from front situated to the south of the main entrance. (Enter from front garden through small door in mosque wall.) A bold Kufic inscription, including the name of the monarch, stands in high Persian-blue relief above a soft buff background intricately designed with floral motifs in cut brick. The combination of the bright, bold straight-lined script contrasts dramatically with the graceful delicacy of the background. It is an exciting example of the artistic sophistication of the ghorids. This stunning decoration was hidden under Timurid decorative tile until the winter of 1964 when experts working with the Kabul Museum removed the later Timurid decoration dating from the 15th century. The upper section of the Timurid arch, lower that the ghorid arch, has been left for interesting comparisons. Ghorid geometric patterns give way to increasingly exuberant floral patterns in the timurid decoration; coloured tile used sparingly only as an accent by the Ghorid is used to cover every inch of the architectural facade by their successors.
The lavish Timurid decorative restoration covered the entire surface of the mosque but it disappeared as the unstable political climate enveloped Herat during the 400 years following Timurid rule. Photographs taken in the courtyard in the early tears of the 20th century show only piles of rubble against bleak, white-washed walls. In 1943 an ambitious restoration program began and continues to today. It is the creation of three noted Herati artists, Fikhri Seljuki Herawi, Mohammad Sa’id Mashal-i Ghori, and the accomplished calligrapher, Mohammad Ali Herawi. A visit to the mosque workshop (to left of corridor leading from the front garden into the courtyard) is highly recommended.
The huge bronze cauldron in the courtyard dates from the reign of the Kart kings of Herat (1332-1381). It was originally used as a receptacle fro sherbet (a sweet drink) which was served to workshipers on feast days. It is now used for donations for the upkeep of the mosque.”
…” Better preserved fragments of Ghorid decoration may be seen on the arches of the short corridors on either side of the main iwan where the mehrab (prayer niche) is let into the west wall. Here the work was executed in cut brick and molded terracotta. In the south corridor, there is a Kufic inscription with a floral background done in a distinctive angular “brambly” style little seen elsewhere. Above this band there are two large panels of brickwork interspersed with x-form plugs and bordered with an undulating chain of molded terracotta arabesques. Simple in concept, the use of plain unadorned brick for design and texture produces a thoroughly handsome effect which is both aesthetically pleasing and strong. Between these brick panels there is a narrower panel filled with a complicated geometric design formed by a series of buds and interconnecting tendrils.
All that is left of the splendid Timurid restoration undertaken by Sultan Husain Baiqara’s prime minister Mir Ali Sher Nawai in 1498 may be found on the inside of the arcade in the southwest corner of the courtyard. The interiors fo these five arches are decorated with narrow strips of blue tile hexagons and octagons sprinkled with tiny golden flowers. Plain pink-beige tile plaques slightly in relief fill the spaces between. The relief and the tiny flowers produce an illusion of depth and mobility which is extremely effective.”

From Dupree, N. H. An historical guide to Afghanistan. Kabul. 1977. p.250

I have not been inside Masjid-i Jami. The military and my employer deem it too dangerous to roam freely or even armed in downtown Herat. These pictures were taken by my Interpretor who lives in the city. I visit the Provincial Police Headquarters (PHQ) about once every two weeks or so. This mosque is directly across the street. Every time that I’ve gone to the PHQ, Masjid-i Jami is full of folks. Children, elderly folks, students. Women in the burqa or chidari as the Tajiks call it. Burqa is a Pushtoon word. I’ve seen blue and black burqas worn here. In Kabul, I’ve seen pink, green and white worn. I imagine the folks at the mosque are out there contemplating, praying. Trying to find their path in life. Seeking God or the Eternal and Sacred.

In many respects, these people are like the rest of us in the world. They seek a better life for themselves and their children. Islam, in my opinion, turns the advantage against them. Islam, from my experience, has widespread problems with poverty and illiteracy. Education of the masses is not a Muslim priority. Rote memorization in a Madrassah is not literacy. Nor is it education. The more “western” a Muslim country. The more likely that it’s people will be educated. This is especially true of women in Muslim countries. There is a reason so many Muslims and especially Arab Muslims are educated outside of the lands of Islam.

The city market and two rather large schools are close by as well. It’s quite odd for me to see segregated schools as is the fashion in Muslim countries. At the end of the school day, the boys run out loud and excited wearing western style clothing. The girls run out just as animated wearing a black and white uniform consisting of a black tunic and white hijab (girls-school.jpg). I had to wonder why the boys weren’t made to wear a uniform as well.

Driving around Herat on the way to the Regional and Provincial Headquarters, is always fascinating. The shops. The people. The vehicles. The city is almost always a sweltering mass of humanity. The streets are never empty. I’m always left wondering. What do these people do in their lives? Where are they headed? Do they hate our presence, love our presence or merely see us as a necessary evil to gain security. Sometimes, I feel like we are wasting our time here. Sometimes, I see hope.

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p1013039.jpg Note the 18th Century Cannon on display outside the Mosque.

p1013049.jpg p1013050.jpg p1013052.jpg

Renovation and repair. Tiles being repaired.

p1013054.jpg The inner courtyard area of the Mosque.

p1013079.jpg Ablutions or wudy.gif – A Muslim must wash his face, neck, hands and feet prior to praying or entering a Mosque. The act is a ritual form of purification. Appearing cleansed before God. If no water is available Muslims will use sand or simulate the act as if water were present. The act is carried out as follows:

wudy.gif

.

1. Declare the intention that the act is for the purpose of worship and purity, start by saying Bismillah

2. Wash the hands up to the wrists, three times.

3. Rinse out the mouth with water, three times, preferably with a brush whenever it is possible.

4. Cleanse the nostrils of the nose by sniffing water into them, three times.

5. Wash the whole face three times with both hands, if possible, from the top of the forehead to the bottom of the chin and from ear to ear.

6. Wash the right arm three times up to the far end of the elbow, and then do the same with the left arm.

7. Wipe the whole head or any part of it with a wet hand, once.

8. Wipe the inner sides of the ears with the forefingers and their outer sides with the thumbs. This should be done with wet fingers.

9 Wash the two feet up to the ankles, three times, beginning with the right foot.

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View of Masjid-i Jami from the rooftop of PHQ. I had to climb a rickety, wooden, home made ladder to get to the roof. It was shaky but I made it up and back down. All 210 pounds of me plus body armor. I thought the thing was going to snap on me. It was worth the climb for the view of the city.

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Afghanistan Scenes

In Afghanistan on January 10, 2008 at 11:00 pm

These are four of my favorite scenes from Afghanistan.

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I, actually, abhor the Burqa. Even so, this is a compelling and somewhat haunting photo. I’d love to have been the person who originally took this photo. What is the story of this womans life. What are her dreams. What came of her after this photo was taken. Is she still alive. Did she make it out of Afghanistan. Did she live through the Soviets, the Taliban, the Warlords and to the invasion of the Americans after the World Trade Center travesty. I’ve taken hundreds of photos of women hidden behind the ubiquitous blue burqa of Afghanistan. I find it abhorrent that these women are forced to wear this horrid mass of natty cloth. Afghan men believe that it is a stain on their honor for other men to see the face of their wife. And it is a mortal crime for a woman to be seen looking at another man. In this quirky, Islamic land, women are far from free. Women who talk to foreign men are accused of prostitution, whoredom and anything else that an Afghani man can conjure in his weak mind. It’s really quite disgusting.

There are some free thinking persons here. I’ve met some awesome young people here who want to change their country but who are fearful and feel powerless to bring about real change. It is difficult to find fault in their fear. Afghanistan is a dangerous and violent land. Vengeance is a reality of life here. Insurgents. Bandits. Taliban. Opium gangs and druglords abound. Mullahs are the real force of governance in the districts. Each District has a Governor appointed in Kabul who may or may not be more powerful than the local Talib “shadow” Governor or Mullah. Afghanistan is a land out of time. I sometimes feel as though I am in a tale out of the Pirates of the Caribbean genre.

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This post card is a group of Afghani tribesmen playing Bozkashi–the traditional game of Afghanistan. Afghanistan’s National past time. The taliban outlawed this game during their reign of terror. This exhausting game is played from horseback. The first horse rider to pick up the dead goat and carry it to the goal line and pitch it across wins. The game has been known to last for more than a week at a time. The champions of this game are famous throughout Afghanistan in much the same manner as Tom Brady, Kobe Bryant and Michael Jordan are in the US. It’s a gruesome game that takes much endurance and strength to play. Contestants are regularly killed in the midst of competition.

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The picture above is the main entrance to the Grand Mosque or Friday Mosque (Masjid-i Jami) in Herat. This magnificent and ancient structure was built in 1200 AD. It has stood witness to the wrath of Jinghis Khan as well as the regions other great conqueror–Timur the Lame. It stood in silent witness to the savagery of the Taliban. It stands today as an inspirational testament to the longevity of a city that has survived since the time of Alexander the Great. I’ve been to the great Mosque once. Though I was not able to enter or get close enough for a long enough time to snap my own photo. Hopefully, I will get my chance before I take my permanent leave of Herat. It truly is a beautiful Mosque.

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Above is the Minaret of Jam. This structure is of uncertain origin. Though, it is thought to be of Ghorid origin. On it’s outer wall is inscribed the Qur’anic Surat which relates the Islamic version of the story of Mary mother of Jesus. Jesus is recognized as a prophet by Islam. Although, Muhammad is THE prophet. The last prophet of Allah. The minaret is 65 meters tall and sits between the Hari Rud and Jam rivers. It was built sometime between 1174 and 1195 AD.

These are four of my favorite pictures from Afghanistan. I have thousands of photos that I’ve taken of Afghanistan and it’s various vistas and Afghani life and culture and hundreds more that I have been given by friends and acquaintances over the years. I’ll post the some of the best of those as well. I hope you enjoy these.

General Al Hajj Akrummudin and the Herat Regional Police Headquarters

In Afghanistan on December 26, 2007 at 8:47 am

I wrote this about two months ago. This is the pic that I took with MG Ak. I printed a copy for him and one extra so he could personalize it for me. Pretty cool.

MG Akrummuddin and me

Went down to the RCC for another meeting to drum up more business for our classes (and drink more chai) and to get them to buy into my plan to make the Province HQ the model for the Region. I convinced them or at least they let me think that they were convinced. lol We drank a lot of chai. For some reason their chai always produces a headache. It could be the dirt and assorted parasites that you ingest when drinking the Afghan Chai. Who knows. lol But it’s considered rude to turn down food and drink when offered so you suck it up and drive on. Later you drink some Kaopectate or Imodium AD and hope for the best. We stayed for lunch and ate Nan (bread) and potato soup. It was a decent lunch. (And I’ve been lucky so far…no parasites and no dysentery.)

G3 Officer, me and COL Zabiullah

The two Colonels in the pic are the temporary Regional Logistics Technical Officer (right) and the Regional G3 (left). We had to go in and talk to them about laying on classes for the next few months and getting student names and such. When I walked into their office, I sat my bag on the floor and then just kind of dropped my hat and let it lay at my feet. The G3 Colonel looked at it but I paid scant attention to this minor detail. A hat is a hat and I’m not one to make a fuss over this uniform. I don’t really care to wear it so I don’t really care how it looks or if my hat gets a little dusty. I guess the Afghans aren’t used to Americans with this attitude. We start our meeting and I try to let Ron get things going but lose patience and keep jumping into the conversation–as usual. I’m not very patient and like to get to the point. The meat of the situation. Patience has never been my strong suit. But directness has and it usually serves me well. We get our message across. We chit chat a bit with the Colonels and smile and at the end of the meeting, I let off a big HOOAH! which always seems to bring a laugh from the Afghans. After that, it’s time for the Kodak moment. I always take a pic with the folks that I meet. It seems to help create a bond. Afghans love pictures. After the pics, the Colonels asks Farhad if I am indeed American. They seem to think that I am a bit different than most Americans. Farhad tells them; “No, he is American.” But they insist that I am different because I carry myself differently or some such thing. I am “not too polite but not too corrupt.” (Farhad doesn’t tell me this until later.) I just smile. Shake hands with them. Say my “Khoda Hafez’” to them.

Farhad and I take our leave and walk down the hall to see if we can get in to talk with MG Akrummuddin.

Afghans love to take pictures and they love it even more if you print the pics off and take them a set as a “gift.” I took several pics with MG Akrummuddin and his PSD last time I visited the Regional Command Center. In preparation for our return visit, I printed off pics of MG Akrummuddin and his security detail to hand out. Helps to smooth the way when trying to get these guys to buy into your program. Or such is my experience.

To get in to visit with Akrummuddin, one must first request an audience with his Security Supervisor. This guy is like a glorified secretary with guns. Lots of guns. You walk into his office and ask for an audience with the General. If he’s available, you wait a few minutes more and the adjoining door is opened for you to step through and into the Generals office. Usually, he has two or three other guests and you have to wait your turn. So he greets you by coming around from his desk, shaking your hand and pointing you to a seat. While you are waiting to push your point or sell your idea or product or whatever the purpose of your visit, the General’s aide brings you chai and various nuts in a tray–pistachios and a few other types. (I should have taken a pic of this tray).

On this day, a couple of Afghani contractors were trying to obtain fuel for some sort of operation that sends them far up into the Band-e Bayan range of the Hindu Kush Mountains to Chagcharan. They argued back and forth. Apparently the contractors wanted 180 gallons of fuel but GEN Akrummuddin was only willing to give them 150 gallons. So they kept pushing a piece of paper back and forth across his desk. I assume this paper was the fuel grant. The contractors wanted a larger grant. MG Ak would not relent and up the fuel amount for them. They left rather disappointed.
Initially, my intent was simply to give MG Akrummuddin his picture and be off. I figured that it really wouldn’t be that big a deal. He would say thanks and throw the picture in a drawer and forget about it. No big deal. But when I handed him the picture, he looks at it and asks what happened to his legs. “Why did you cut off my legs?” I replied that I didn’t cut off his legs. That’s how the picture was taken. Then I laughed and told him that it was Farhad’s fault. That made Farhad nervous. Akrummuddin says [to me]; “Why did you do this? You are not Afghan. Afghans take crazy pictures like this.” Then he tells Farhad that as a penalty for cutting off his legs we must wait so that we can take the picture again. And this time, if we cut off his legs, he will cut off Farhads [or mine] for real. I laugh. I don’t know if he is serious or not.

MG Ak seats us next to his desk. We wait around 15 or 20 minutes for him to finish his business with the contractors and an Italian Caribinieri Police Mentor.

After they depart, MG Ak leads me over to the curtain where we take the picture and Ron and I take turns posing with the General. I ask if it’s ok if I put my arm around the Generals shoulder like we are good buddies. Farhad translates and MG Ak tells me it’s cool. I accidentally put my hand on his shoulder board covering his rank and he tells me that we can not cover up the rank. It’s important to see this. We cut up and carry on like old buddies. It was pretty comical. We’re in his office laughing loudly and talking about anything and mostly nothing. We didn’t really discuss any business. He asks us to take a picture of him sitting at his desk. Then he tells us to stand next to him and take a picture with him at his desk. On a whim, I ask if I can sit at his desk and take a picture. He laughs and tells me to have a seat.

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It goes on like this for a good 30 minutes or so it seems. At the end, MG Ak tells us through Farhad that if we need anything to come to him and that his office is always open to us.

Once we are outside the Generals office, Farhad looks a little faint. He tells me; “Dave! No one does this.” He is laughing and looking at me like I’m crazy. “Dave, no one does this. But like that Colonel said. ‘You look different and act different.’ You are one of them–not too polite and not too corrupt.” I just laugh and tell Farhad that it’s because I am crazy. It’s just another day for me.

This is my life and I enjoy days like these.