US Military Needs Human Sensitivity Training

This happened to a friend of mine yesterday as he was trying to go to work....

"It was fucked up. I was in a Zuhak taxi in Karte Say and we kept trying to pass this mini-van and the van wouldn't let us by; in fact he kept preventing us from passing. Naturally this passed off Reza who then tried to pass several more times. Then the mini-van comes to a dead stop and an American who looks straight out of the trailer park and an Afghan wanna be American jump out of the van with AKs and start telling me they are gonna shoot my ass. I get out of the taxi and tell the American to fuck off and he tells me he's gonna shoot me if I don't fuck off and we're standing in the street like assholes arguing blocking traffic. Finally he tells us to just drive around them which we do."

I think the US military needs some civilian relations training.  We can call it Human Sensitivity Training or HST.  We all know that they suck at it.  They know they suck at it. But if we are trying to win the "hearts and minds of the Afghan people"  then we really need to start from the ground up and teach these testosterone overloaded douchebags how to have decent conversations with people in the countries they are trying to help.  

THE Coolest Kid. Ever!

I took my class to Bagh-e-Babur (Babur Gardens) this past Thursday and along the way I saw the absolute coolest kid ever.  Natural born hipster is what he is.  And the best part is that he didn't even have to try and he nailed a look that hipsters all over LA and NY are trying to sport.  You know who you are, and you know you spent many hours online searching the look and thousands of dollars at urbanoutfitters.com trying to get it right.  Please take a clue from this little guy.  Cool is innate and cannot be bought.  Needless to say, I have a very special place reserved in my black heart for this guy.

Do not view 1 hour before or after meals

This morning I was welcomed to work by the following greeting in an email:

Hope this mail will find you in the best of your health you ever had.


Pretty awesome way to start the office day.  It made up for the 1 million missed calls, door bell ringing and upset stares I received when I got picked up for work (technically, they were 10 minutes early),  the discovery that my most favorite belt broke in the wee hours of the night, and the fact that I saw this:

Sick!  Writing this post is difficult cos I have to look at this vomitous creature.  It's called a camel spider and they live here and bring terror with them wherever they go.  At least that what it seemed like as my roommates were describing the buggers (bonus points cos the explanation came with British/ Welsh accents.  Fist pump.)  Because these creatures look so gross, lots have myths have surfaced about them.  Like, they run after you and attack without warning, that they inject you with a anesthetic venom and eat chunks out of your body, they jump 4 feet into the air and chase your shadow.  Said it before and I will say it again.  SICK.  I can't write about this anymore because the photo is really making me want to upchuck my non-existent breakfast.  You can read more about this devil creature here

Happy Birthday!

Birdy had her baby!  As soon as I can I am taking a picture and sending it to all the tabloids.  But seriously, Birdy is now the proud mummy of a little chick-a-dee.  I knew this day would come sooner or later, but I never thought I'd feel this.  No one ever taught me how to be an obsessive bird lady! I don't know if I am ready for this

Come One, Come All!

Pull the kids out of school early, tell grandma that she can't have that second dose of Cipro, put on your Friday's best and head on over to your local thoroughfare to find out all you need to know about the candidates.  It's election season and you can see and feel the buzz all around!  Over the past 2 weeks or so, campaign posters have started marring the beautiful Kabul landscape and they stand there tall and proud, ready to the tell the city who the best candidate is.  Since illiteracy is a huge problem here (close to 70% of the population is illiterate), the IEC (love them!) and the government have issued symbols for each candidate so that on election day, a few words won't get in the way of exercising democracy.  So while one candidate is 3 fish, another one is a desk, and yet another one is a lantern.  I have seen keys, swords, candles, light bulbs, bicycles, you name it.  And sometimes you have a guy with 3 fish instead of one or 2 keys instead of 3.  I am fascinated and in love and have vowed to take pictures of as many of these as possible.

So I started asking locals if they knew what in the hell these symbols represented.  No says they.  OK.  So I started asking if there was any kind of campaign for the campaign that explained what the symbols meant.  Again no.  So then I asked, where in the bloody hell do these symbols come from?  Well, apparently they are given out by the IEC when a candidate registers (click here for the final IEC list).  No rhyme.  No reason.  No meaning.  Just a symbol.  So if you can't read and you happen to like the way the guy or girl on the poster looks, then at least you know they're symbol so you can vote for them.  Too bad everybody I asked said that they wouldn't vote.  C'est la vie...

City vs Country?

Sometimes its easy to forget that I am living in the middle of a big city.  But when you look around, you see apartments on top of store fronts, just like New York.  Or barbershops every 2 feet like my neighborhood in Brooklyn.  There's awful traffic, pollution, noise; everything a city dweller loves.  But then night falls and I'm just about to fall into a slumber.  I start to hear clipclopclipclopclipclopclipclop.  What the fuck!?  Every night around 2am an parade of men on horse drawn carriages marches past my house.  It always blows my mind to think that I am in one of the biggest urban areas in this country, when at the end of the day (literally), this place is as rural as it gets.  I mean, where else can I see a horse drawn carriage going past armed guards at the heavily armored dutch embassy across the street from my house?  Greatness