June 2009 Kabul, Afghanistan
Today marks exactly a year in Not-worth-it-stan, and that is plenty. I will be wheels up and out of here in less than 36 hours, probably never to return. As bad as this place is, working for a floundering startup is what has finally worn me down, but I will skip the boring business details. (more…)
August 2008 Kabul. Afghanistan
We live in a big house in the city, with 12-foot walls, razor wire, a heavy front gate, a couple of security guys and a driver, and a good cook, Fariba. She has a cooking show on local tv, and she makes me eat my vegetables. I cannnot state enough how much this place needs a woman’s touch. It is like a fraternity house, minus the beer, the girls and the music. It is functional and well-stocked, but not presentable. It is an outpost. (more…)
July 2008 Kabul, Afghanistan
It is a hot, dry, windy place, with a brown hazy sky, dust tornadoes, and streets paved with rocks. Many of the houses have running water, and most have electricity most of the time. Bombed-out buildings, minefields, craters, and mangled Soviet armor here and there. Helicopter gunships rattle the rooftops, two at a time. Elderly Russian transport planes sag across the sky, then sometimes spiral in towards the airfield at an aggressive angle, just in case anyone out in the hills feels like taking a shot. It is a little unnerving to unexpectedly plummet into Kabul, while on a long-expired commercial airplane entirely full of bearded guys in robes. (more…)
Housefly 