Chapter Three, Afghanistan

Page Two

Wednesday, 20 July / Herat

Oof, too stoned to write. Well, our "lot" stayed together there at the border for about 3 hours, Afghanis and foreigners all going through customs, until we were released, and went on into Herat, a hot, stop and start, late afternoon bus ride, during which I daydreamed of what I would do on arrival in Seattle, namely have a taxi take me right to the Central Tavern, near Pioneer Square, and have a cold draft beer.

As soon as we drove into Herat, it was cool running water in gutters along the road, tall shade trees on both sides of the road, horse-drawn taxis, a few cars, and lots of people on foot and bicycle. A refreshing break from the rigors of customs and the desert.

Herat Herat

Checked right into a hotel at the bus terminal, ate and drank, was propositioned for hashish and sex on the way back to the hotel, crawled right into bed and went to sleep.

Woke around 6AM with the sun full in my face from a big window facing east, and realized I would have to change hotels this morning. After breakfast I went searching for a nice-looking place I'd seen on the bus coming in, found it, and was quickly made welcome, had breakfast with an Afghani family in the garden behind the hotel, was shown a nice 50 Afghani room by the owner, Aziz, and left to get my luggage.

Khyber Hotel

Moved right into the Khyber Hotel, dollar a night room, showers, cool and quiet with a big garden, and Aziz who seems to also own the place, is an incredible man, the closest thing I've ever met outside of Ken Kesey to being a real-life guru. I smoked a whole bowl of hashish with Aziz, out in the garden. He says he is 32 years old, and 2 months returned from a career as a journalist in Kabul. He says he has also lived several years in England, fathered a daughter there, written several books, been on an expedition to the Pamirs, and served a jail sentence under the old king, for "making revolution." Aziz also says I should feel free to smoke at his hotel, next time get hashish from him, and not on the street, and that guests do not pay at the Khyber. His goal is to meet people and relax.

During my session with him Monday night, he really seemed for a time to be coming on like a real leader in search of a following, talked of my partnership (spiritual) in his company, of him drawing up a program for me, and me in return providing companionship and an available ear. No more of that, though. A group of Germans pulled in Tuesday noon, people who'd been here before and who were now coming back through, and Aziz and I went off and smoked some hashish in a shady corner of his garden, and he warned me about where, and where not to smoke in Afghanistan, and said next time I wanted hash to get it from him. That's all. An Afghani man and I and him all shared a bowl, then he wandered off to siesta.

The change in mood between here and Iran is extraordinary. Herat would be extraordinary even if it were not the first stop after Iran. Things are pretty laid back and stoned here, to use the old sixties jargon. I walked into a shop yesterday, wanting to pay for one of the postcards from a stand outside, and the three people in the shop were all asleep on the floor. I see a lot of Afghanis on the street who look pretty high, and Aziz says a good 2/3 of the country smokes regularly, after 14 or 15 years old.

I bought the hashish through an Australian couple I met on the bus from Mashad. They know a guy who knew a guy at one of the hotels, and I was taken into a vacant room, shown several grades, and having been instructed beforehand as to which was best, I made a quick buy of 100 grams for 1,000 Afs. The seller was a tall, thin, aristocratic-looking man, Afghani, in white robes and a white skullcap. He gave me his "16 years in the same location" rap, and treated me to some opium.

After that I met the Australian couple and Fabio, and we went to the Yaqin Hotel, the local smokery, sat on their porch with about 40 people, smoke and chatted with the "locals". Met an American named Doug, seemed very much a retired dope dealer, who was in on the organization of an expedition of 30 or so foreigners to the Minaret of Jam, and on up through the Hindu Kush to Kabul. A two-week trip, with pretty much unprepared foreigners, presumably carrying drugs, going up into some very wild country. Expensive, too, 20,000 Afs.

Herat Juma Mosque Herat Herat
Juma Mosque Mosaic, Juma Mosque
View from Alexander's citadel Afghani soldiers near Alexander's citadel Note from 2007

One day in Herat I walked to the top of Alexander's citadel, alone, and got cornered by a pack of wild dogs. I found myself on the edge of the plateau which the old fort sat on. There was a small Army camp at the bottom of the slope, maybe a hundred yards away. With the dogs closing in on one side, there were soldiers at the bottom waving and yelling at me. Did they know I was frightened? Maybe they just saw a tourist and wanted to talk. They seemed less threatening than the dogs, so I ran down to them. The soldiers were very friendly, had me take their picture, and left me with their mailing address to send them a copy.

The daily routine here is breakfast and morning sightseeing, with a siesta away from the heat, from around 11 to 4, then afternoon sightseeing, tea, and dinner. I've been here three days, and the fact that there is really nowhere to relax away from the heat except my hotel room, has me feeling rather confined, so despite the fact that Herat is the most pleasant place yet, and cheapest, I will be getting on. Bought a ticket for Kandahar this morning, leave at 5:30AM tomorrow.

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