Afghanistan has a history of conflict, from Alexander the Great, to Genghis Khan, to the last four decades beginning with the Russians, to civil/tribal war, and the Taliban and Al Qaeda. The history of violence is tied to the geography, with the country straddling the crossroads of trade routes and conquest. Even the terrain seems violent. The jagged Hindu Kush Mountains mountains climb out of expansive dunes on the edge of the southern desert. The mountains stone is young, rough and sharp edged, like the countries population. Their violent rise, not yet softened by weather, erosion and time.
PHOTO: Alexander's castle on a hill above the town of Qalat, Zabul Province.
The weather is just as extreme, assaulting you with triple digit temperatures, on cloudless, dry days in the summer months, followed by some bitter cold winter nights. Plus, a constant wind that is channeled by the mountains so consistently that even an aerial view of the dunes looks like the gods themselves are blowing the land to the east, up against the mountains like an ocean of earthen waves crashing against a jagged shore. In the summer, the wind feels like a gust of heat from an open oven, providing no relief from the high temperatures. While in the winter, the cold wind cuts through your clothes, saps your skin of moisture, and chills you to the bone.
One might think that snowstorms would be one more assault on the senses here, but I have found the opposite to be true. The storms we have had this year, have settled in softly, with the winds giving way to calm, allowing the flakes slow, silent fall to bring on an almost therapeutic calm. The fresh layer of white, softening the harsh, sharp angles of the landscape and covering the barren brown landscape and cityscape of brown mud walls and buildings. It also dampens the harsh light of the typical cloudless days, and low clouds soften and conceal the sharp peaks of the surrounding mountains.
In the south, the snow is rare, which makes it a treat for the locals with limited resources and entertainment. The rarity is highlighted when you see kids running around in the snow wearing nothing on their feet except for flimsy sandals. It raises spirits both for novelty of seeing snow in the desert lowlands, but also in hopes that it is falling harder, and piling up deeper in the mountains, to sustain the Spring run off that will support the crops as they struggle against the parching heat of summer.
For me, it has brought on the feeling of being snowed in, like I should hibernate with a blanket and a book, in a cozy room with a window... if I could find a room with a window. The soldiers spirits have been lifted as well, and I have seen an assortment of gun strapped snowball fights, snowmen in camouflage caps, and even igloos being built before the melt ensues. A tactical pause, brought on by the limited mobility on icy roads and passes and reduced air support as well. Though the laundry list of tasks at hand can often seem daunting, and tomorrow may be filled with mud and mayhem, the snow seems to absolve everyone of responsibility for a moment. Enjoying the day, like a child that just heard school has been cancelled on account of snow.
The weather is just as extreme, assaulting you with triple digit temperatures, on cloudless, dry days in the summer months, followed by some bitter cold winter nights. Plus, a constant wind that is channeled by the mountains so consistently that even an aerial view of the dunes looks like the gods themselves are blowing the land to the east, up against the mountains like an ocean of earthen waves crashing against a jagged shore. In the summer, the wind feels like a gust of heat from an open oven, providing no relief from the high temperatures. While in the winter, the cold wind cuts through your clothes, saps your skin of moisture, and chills you to the bone.
One might think that snowstorms would be one more assault on the senses here, but I have found the opposite to be true. The storms we have had this year, have settled in softly, with the winds giving way to calm, allowing the flakes slow, silent fall to bring on an almost therapeutic calm. The fresh layer of white, softening the harsh, sharp angles of the landscape and covering the barren brown landscape and cityscape of brown mud walls and buildings. It also dampens the harsh light of the typical cloudless days, and low clouds soften and conceal the sharp peaks of the surrounding mountains.
In the south, the snow is rare, which makes it a treat for the locals with limited resources and entertainment. The rarity is highlighted when you see kids running around in the snow wearing nothing on their feet except for flimsy sandals. It raises spirits both for novelty of seeing snow in the desert lowlands, but also in hopes that it is falling harder, and piling up deeper in the mountains, to sustain the Spring run off that will support the crops as they struggle against the parching heat of summer.
For me, it has brought on the feeling of being snowed in, like I should hibernate with a blanket and a book, in a cozy room with a window... if I could find a room with a window. The soldiers spirits have been lifted as well, and I have seen an assortment of gun strapped snowball fights, snowmen in camouflage caps, and even igloos being built before the melt ensues. A tactical pause, brought on by the limited mobility on icy roads and passes and reduced air support as well. Though the laundry list of tasks at hand can often seem daunting, and tomorrow may be filled with mud and mayhem, the snow seems to absolve everyone of responsibility for a moment. Enjoying the day, like a child that just heard school has been cancelled on account of snow.
No comments:
Post a Comment