Ago 25 ages, The famous traveler Herodotus understood that to describe and understand the world we have to get out of our daily environment and travel. Know places and people who tell us their stories in their own atmosphere. Following the guideline of this great Greek historian we are going to move to an unusual country in Central Asia. Experience that will allow us to immerse ourselves in an overwhelming reality of sensations and emotions.
Afghanistan is right there, at our feet, but like a bad dream, it immediately becomes unreachable. In the nebula traveler dream we face chaos reigns. The victorious mujahedeen, now confused fighting spirits drunk, They destroyed between them and annihilate everything that moves in its tribal territory. I look at the clock ... brand 1992. The Minuter points autumn. In the effort of wanting to break the traveling dream with a awakening in Afghanistan, will we have woke up too soon? Before the inevitable, We let our eyes closely close and the sweetness of darkness invades us waiting for a less disturbing awakening while we hear how the door closes.
For the Taliban everything is prohibited except prayer.
The dream is agitated, We are uncomfortable, The body claims a new awakening and we open our eyes languidly. We look at the clock and the time indicates the year 2000, The minuter indicates spring. As a good recurring dream, We are in the same place, In Khyber's passage: Pakistan behind us, Afghanistan at our feet. The country is not on fire, Peace prevails, The kingdom of chaos is over but the power that has achieved it is the dark side of Islam… plunging the country into a kingdom of darkness. For the Taliban everything is prohibited except prayer. Music, Cinema and television have been proscribed for degenerating the cigars, It is a crime to hum a song, All celebrations are condemned by immoral, The buried women live between walls by impure, The effigies of museums destroyed by heresy, The controlled laugh in case it implies depravation, The closed schools, The burned books, The constant executions converted into educational social acts… And foreign travelers are prohibited from entry because nothing has to disturb the "new order" by sharply closing the door in our noses.
Foreign travelers are prohibited from entry because nothing has to disturb the "new order"
Again an impassable door, Again the children's nightmare of running and running and never moving forward. A dry blow to us start. Will it be the alarm clock? What time is it? We open our eyes quickly. A man in uniform gives us open garnesses open with a «welcomme to Afghanistan!». We look at our passports and there are the freshly cooled stamps that mark the historical moment that opens a complex door after a long night of many years. We finally managed to enter Afghanistan!
In the powdery crossroads to 1080 Metters of the Khyber's pass sounds music in the chamizo that acts as an Afghan customs. There are magazines on the table, background laughs, Many women with burqa but others just with a veil on the hair, shops are extremely bustling and women can move alone. The Taliban bit the forbidden fruit on September 11 2001 and an international force fulminantly overthrew a sinister government that terrified its own population and threatened its indiscriminate violence to too many countries.
We are in a very unstable region, Even in Pakistan the State has had to reach an agreement with the insumisos Pashunns
Khyber's passage, insurmountable cliff on previous occasions, He has mutated at an open door thanks to the visa that we have achieved at the Afghanistan embassy in Islamabad. We are in a very unstable region, Even in Pakistan the State has had to reach an agreement with the insumisos Pashunns in the territories of the tribal federation west of the country. The Pashunns undertake to respect the Pakistani laws on the roads and in a strip of 15 meters on each side but beyond the government has no right to intervene and the law is governed by the "Pathanvali" -traditional pathans code from the Middle Ages- Based on honor, The Law of Talion and Hospitality. Los pashtuns, most in Afghanistan and in the western tribal territories of Pakistan, They trust themselves and very little in others. It is well understood when seeing the entire route to Khyber full of "Q’ala", Housing groups locked on themselves, With high mud walls and large iron bars.
The silk route crossed this indomitable territory, leaving the ethnic vestiges of all those who stepped on their land
No foreigner can move without an escort from Peshawar to the Afghan border and, While we go once again the legendary step, squeezed in a small minibus with our armed escort and twelve more passengers, We visualize between curve and curve the illustrious spectra of the past that surrounded during their dense history the sinuous route. Darío, The Persian and Alejandro, The Macedonian, who managed to cross it with their powerful armies; The dreaded and devastating Genghis Khan and his overwhelming hordes to unforgettable travelers like Marco Polo. But it was the Muslims who, After a thousand years of presence, They have left the deepest footprint in their heterogeneous population. The silk route crossed this indomit.
We get out of the car but suddenly exorbiting his eyes reciting his entire repertoire in English: "No, in, don’t go, don’t go, problem, problem»
At the Torkham Microbuses stop, a frantic wisery of driver gestures that vocife their destinations, We rent a private vehicle for ourselves with the idea that the driver is not in a hurry to reach destination. Dresses with Muslim clothing we stop in bustling markets, We access small villages, We alternate with nomads in its colorful camps that decorate the Kabul river. Sitting on the floor of rickety barracks, that indulgently our driver calls "Restaurant", We eat uncertain stews that come out of shore. The months in Pakistan have to have shielded the stomach, Everything knows us and nothing indispose us. When we point out a spectacular kabul river meandro the driver brings us, We get out of the car but suddenly exorbiting his eyes reciting his entire repertoire in English: "No, in, don’t go, don’t go, problem, problem»… We do not know or we will never know what I had seen but we pay attention to him, We get abuse in the vehicle and leave the place. Afghanistan is not a country to walk happily and we are already risking too much. A little further… we glimpse Jalalabad, Neuralgic enclave that insists to control the door to mountains and uncontrollable valleys.
