I have a backlog of posts on my trip to Band-e-Amir, the remains of the giant Buddha statues, and the UNHAS helicopter ride, but I’m going to dash this one off first since it’s fresh.

My flight out of the country was just cancelled, after waiting for 4.5hours at the airport thinking it was delayed. Theoretically, they’re sending us a plane tomorrow afternoon, so hopefully the process will proceed as intended this time and I’ll be in Dubai tomorrow evening.

In the meantime, I had a chance to ruminate on the traffic in Kabul on my way back from the airport. First of all, there are no lanes on what could be 3 or 4 lane thoroughfares. These large concrete expanses have treed medians between directions, at least, but are populated on their edges by men and boys with pushcarts of bananas, or other snacks, women in burqas trying to cross all lanes of traffic while carrying or holding the hand of a small child or two, young men crouched together who look like they must be doing drugs of some kind, and old men strolling at remarkably unconcerned paces wearing their large blanket-like scarves and traditional hats. It is chaotic, to say the least.

Thank goodness all major intersections seem to be traffic circles, because right angle intersections would assuredly be mayhem. Cars simply dive where they want to go with such close margins it seems like all drivers here must be aces. They appear to have such complete and utter confidence in the physics and dimensions of their vehicles. Passersby, loitering policemen, women, children, bumpers, barriers, and oncoming traffic are handled with a quick turn and a shifted gear. Nary a backward glance or ruffled feathers have I seen.

Generally, it seems that any moment of hesitation on the part of another driver results in wild passing, with courtesy honks on the way of course, and then inches from another bumper, the driver will spin the wheel and we’re off again. I often don’t feel the need to wear my seatbelt with such driving conditions because it seems like anything that happens would be so catastrophic a seatbelt would do you more harm than good (sorry, Mom!). The faces in other cars come close and then move away again as we weave through traffic.

In any case, we made it back to the guesthouse safely after my flight didn’t go. It was just dusk, so shop lights were coming on and all the naan in the windows was so fresh and brightly lit it seemed like you could smell it. Wish me luck getting out of here tomorrow!

Photo credit: Robert Nickelsberg