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d Chaylee. It’s a coffee house geared towards foreigners and was opened by an American woman. On the outside of the building, you can’t even tell there’s a coffee shop. There is no sign and it’s completely non-descript. Inside it’s like a little oasis of Kabul meets Starbucks. Wooden Afghan furniture, rugs, soft lighting and even some photos of coffee on the walls. Outside there is seating as well with red cushions and a screen that they use to screen movies every so often. My uncle and I opted for the ice cream with strawberry sauce. Yum :). It was really great people watching. It was a little magnet for foreigners. It was like they had all come out of the woodwork and were in this one place. Inside the women took their scarves off, sipped their lattes and worked on their laptops. There were also some young Afghan men hanging out there. One had his traditional paron-e tomban outfit with ipod earbuds in his ears. After I finished my ice cream, I noticed these two young men walk in. they looked like teenagers. I couldn’t help but stare at them, they were so adorable. At first I thought they were Japanese—they had Asian like features, but what made me really think they were Japanese was their clothing. They were SO hip. Washed out blue jeans rolled up, leather loafers, designer t-shirts…they looked straight out of an urban outfitters catalog or something. They ended up sitting near my uncle and I and I could tell by their fluent Dari that they were indeed Afghan, not Japanese as I had assumed :).

After ice cream eating, my uncle dad and I went shopping. My dad loves shopping, no matter where he is. He wanted to buy a small mattress that he could sleep on since he’s sleeping on the floor :). My impression of Kabul on this trip is that it has opened up a bit—it doesn’t feel as stiff and people are more relaxed. Also I see many more women wearing a head scarf rather than a burqa and also expressing themselves with different fashions. It turned out the owner of the mattress store had met my dad some 18 years ago in Seattle. He used to have a rug shop there. Small world, eh?

After shopping we went to my dad’s cousin’s place. He runs a nonprofit school that teaches computer skills and English. He really is a wonderful man and I’m always very happy to see him because he has such love and dedication for the children of Afghanistan. It really touches my heart. We sat in his courtyard under the moon and had a ‘romantic’ (they joked) dinner with candlelight. One thing that wasn’t so romantic was the guard walking around with a gun in his hand. I guess the security is getting so bad here that he has hired a guard and when the students come to school they have to be searched. Seeing the guard spawned a whole conversation regarding the security of Afghanistan and its future. Let me tell you, it wasn’t exactly the most uplifting conversation, especially considering the fact that I was sitting with men that have been in Afghanistan for about 4 years now and really have a sense of what’s going on in this country. My dad’s Studio is next to a parliament member’s compound who has many enemies. So there is a concern that if the Taliban tries to attack this parliament’s house my dad’s studio could also be affected. I really didn’t like the sound of this and started to go on in my head about why the hell he’s here or why any of us are here. But, by the end of the conversation, I did see the silver lining on the moon so to speak. I thought how lucky I am to be in the company of 6 different people whose dedication to the rebuilding of Afghanistan is this strong. They really represent the hope of the country—the possibility of a society that works for the Afghan people. So by the end of it I was happy that I was sitting with people that, though their actions may defy common sense (given security, politics, etc), they are taking a stand for something greater than themselves.

And then I was reminded of why I’m here (because let me tell you, I’ve been wondering these past few days!). I was reminded that I am here because I am also taking a stand for something greater than myself. I am taking a stand for the possibility of an Afghanistan that works for the Afghan people and a world that works for the world—i.e. peace. Sometimes I think, well I’m teaching these art workshops, what good will that do. I should be in the UN or something instead, making a “real difference”! But who knows whose life I will make a difference in and what the ripple effect of that will be.

Today I was eating lunch with the maid and I asked her how many kids she has. She said 5, but that it was too much and that if she had one more she would kill it. I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not…I think she was half serious honestly. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about all the Afghan orphans, and meanwhile there are still so many Afghans bringing more children into the world. What a difference birth control or sex education would make here. I think about all the controversy in the US regarding these issues. It’s ridiculous, we are debating whether or not to have these resources at our disposal, meanwhile there are people in the world that don’t even have the option of these resources and are feeling desperate because they cannot control the number of children they have and have no idea how they can take care of them all. Then that also lends itself to the human trafficking trade. I read recently in US news that at any given moment 2 million people are being traded worldwide!

The other irony I always see in the US is that normally the Pro-life are also the ones supporting the war in Iraq. I don’t see how you can be Pro-life and then also support the killing of Americans and Iraqis.

Well I’m done with my soapbox for now. I’ll write more later.

Love,
Gazelle

posted by Gazelle at 11:32 PM 0 comments

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

PHX-NYC-DUB-KBL

Hi Everyone,
I arrived in Kabul safe and sound. The last few days have been a bit of a whirlwind. I started in Phoenix sweating in a tank top and shorts. It was hot, dry and flat. Then I landed in NY, where it was humid and cloudy and there were actually trees! The buildings were tall and the city was not so clean. Then I landed in Dubai, which is trying to become the NYC of the Middle East and now I’m in Kabul.

When we arrived in Dubai, outside the airport was a line of taxis waiting for us. The interesting thing was the line we were directed to was a line of women taxi drivers. I don’t think I’ve ever had a female taxi driver in the US. The woman that drove us had a kind wrinkled face and large black sunglasses with rhinestone studs on the side. She was Filipina (there are a LOT of Filipinos here) and has lived in Dubai for 24 yeaars. She explained to us that she was the first woman taxi driver for the airport. She told us that women were allowed to drive taxis 7 years ago in response to a crime. Apparently, a woman from the UK traveled to Dubai and her taxi driver raped and killed her :(. In response, the Dubai government allowed women taxi drivers and now parties that include women must take a woman taxi driver. If you are a man traveling on your own, you go with a male taxi driver.I have to say, I felt more comfortable with a female taxi driver, even though I was traveling with a man already.

Dubai was really warm and humid and the climate made my hands swell up like water balloons--very weird. First we took a nap and then we walked around and went shopping. Dubai has a lot of the shops that you can find in the US. It was cool seeing all the diverse clothing styles that people wear and that you can buy at the mall. For example, there was one store that sold bikinis and the store adjacent to it was selling stylish head to toe coverings. Some women here wear all black from head to toe, with only their eyes showing, while you can see other women wearing tank tops or see-through tops. There are a lot of Filipinos and Indians that live here. It seems like many of them occupy the lower-class jobs. Everything here is written in Arabic and English and most people here seemed to speak English.

The next morning we went back to the airport for our flight to Kabul. Next to the counter for Kabul was the counter for flights to Baghdad. I felt sorry for anyone that was flying there, but then saw the irony of my judgment as I was sitting in the Kabul line! But still, Kabul is definitely not as bad as Baghdad.

The flight was smoothly and I couldn’t help but notice the man sitting across from me who was watching war movie after war movie. I wondered if he was on his way to Afghanistan as part of the military and permanently peeled my eyes away from his DVD screen when I saw an image of a Vietnamese man with his skin peeled off. GROSS! I don’t understand why anyone enjoys watching that kind of thing.

When I arrived at the Kabul airport, my uncle Rabi was there to pick me up which was nice. He was there because his luggage did not make it to Kabul a few days ago when he arrived but luckily all of our luggage arrived. Yay! Let’s see if my dad has the same luck when he flies in tomorrow. He seems to have really bad luggage karma. It’s funny that in the past 6 months I’ve seen my dad in Kabul more than in the US!

I was surprised that driving through Kabul I felt like I was ‘coming home’ or something. Not that Kabul is home, but my point is I guess I’ve been here enough times that I’m not shocked or anything like that. The exhaust fumes are still very strong and suffocating though. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. The road leaving the airport was lined with Afghan flags which was a new touch.

I was reminded of how different our perceptions of reality are. My perception of Afghanistan in the US is so different than it is when I’m here. In the US, I’m always thinking war, Taliban, etc. but when I’m here I’m re bWww Bukakkesexy D W Sex Trimming Sexy Stripped Mom And Daughter Szh 1 Trimming Sexy Stripped Mom And Daughter Gazelle Speakg f Http%3A%2F%2Fsss9.aa.am%2F Trimming Sexy Stripped Mom And Daughter Daughter nWww Bukakkesexy D W Sex Trimming Sexy Stripped Mom And Daughter Szh 1 Trimming Sexy Stripped Mom And Daughter Gazelle Speakx c Www.video%20poron