This is an old post that I wrote up a few months ago while I was in Herat, Afghansitan. This happened between June and September 2007 in Kabul.
I read the book Kabul Beauty School and decided to seek out the real place. The actual beauty school. Try to meet the author and get her to sign the book. The books more about life in Kabul than just a Beauty school. So I get there and decide to get a hair cut. This is a few years back. The reason that I decide to get a hair cut is that the receptionist is pretty as hell. lol Just an excuse to talk to her and stick around longer. And she smelled so good I didn’t want to stop inhaling her scent. Whatever it was. Some combination of fruit and flowers that left my knees weak. haha
I get my hair cut and while in the middle of that. I’m talking to the receptionist. I get her name ~ M…. She’s Afghani but had moved to London with her parents during the diaspora. I figured she was about 24 or 25. We talked for a while and eventually I talk her into meeting me for lunch at my hotel. We exchange phone numbers.
Back to the hair cut. The gal cutting my hair had underarm stench that cut the freakin’ wind. A couple times I actually thought that I was going to start gagging or pass out from it. It was strong. Like she hadn’t taken a bath in a month stink. I just started laughing. I let her finish my hair. She does an ok job. I spike my hair up anyway so if they screw it up, it usually looks like I did it on purpose. lol
Back to M.
M calls me up and asks me to meet her in the lobby of my hotel. I get all excited. Woohoo, I’ve got a DATE in Kabul, Afghanistan! hahahaha You have no idea how big a deal that is until you spend a few months in Afghanistan.
She shows up with a body guard and stinky hair cut lady as a chaperon. We have tea and talk for a while down in the coffee shop in the mall area of my hotel. And it’s actually a pleasant afternoon and good conversation. I seem to have met a Kabuli socialite.
Her body guard has an AK47. And stands there like he’s ready for the attack from hell.
Of course, I am the perfect gentleman during this meeting and each subsequent meeting under the watchful gaze of the body guard. The last couple of meetings she didn’t bring the chaperon. But she never went any where without her body guard. She laughed at me for being nervous.
Turns out M is only 20.
And she is a member of the extended family of Agha Khan.
If you don’t know who Agha Khan is…look the dude up. He’s so rich that he has his own consulate in London and a couple of other countries. He’s the head of the Ismaeli Clan. The Ismaelis are a sect of Islam. Shi’a Islam. They’re small. Maybe 30 million worldwide. The largest group is in Canada. Agha Khan is their leader/father/benefactor. He sets up scholarship foundations for them. Businesses and keeps them organized and in touch. He’s no Osama bin Laden. Quite the opposite. He believes in education. For Muslims. Men and women.
Anyway, I meet with M a few more times. At first because I’m interested and I think I might get laid. lol Then later, I figure out that there ain’t a prayer in hell of getting laid and it’s just interesting talking to this girl.
Out of curiosity, I asked a guy named Sher Ahmad (a whole other story) who is the Security Boss of Rashid Dostum (look him up). I asked Sher what would happen if I wanted to marry M. He told me with a straight face; “David, they would kill you.” I looked at him in disbelief at first. Then I just laughed. Realizing that he was telling the truth. That’s when he told me that she was a relative of Agha Khan and she would be matched with another Ismaeli and never have a worry in her life.
She emails me out of the blue every once in a while. She returned to London not long before I departed for Herat. Apparently, they’d found out that she was meeting with some strange American. Thankfully, I had sense enough to not make any Rico Suave moves on her or anything stupid like that. The bastards probably would have killed me had I tried. For me, it was enough to meet an nice, educated Afghan woman and learn a bit more about the culture.
I tell ya. Lots of crazy experiences over here.
The first email that I got from her after her return to London: “David, I miss you so much.” I must have been her first crush. It was a cute email. She was a nice girl and pretty as hell. Had this lilting sing song voice that made ya wanna break out in song yourself. It was a great experience for me and a beautiful side of Kabul that not too many Westerners are privileged to have.