NOTE FROM JOHN: My friend Mark Fonseca Rendeiro, a rather prolific and good videoblogger pen-named BicycleMark, is on his way to Afghanistan for a month. I've asked Mark if he'd consider blogging about his experience here on AMERICAblog, and he's graciously accepted. Here is Mark's second post, on landing in Kabul for the first time. His first post,
from yesterday, is here.
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It is perhaps the most internationally built international airport the world has ever known. From the moment your flight lands, the equipment, the buildings, the vehicles, all have some kind of text or flag referring to the country that donated it. What
Kabul international airport lacks in terms of facilities it makes up for with one of the finest collections of international aid and military flying machines I have ever seen. Spanning the decades since the 1960's, I start to wonder if someone hasn't been dumping their old military helicopters out back behind the main terminal.
My choice of cheap airlines puts me as only 1 of 4 foreigners on this flight, I really feel the drawback of this as I'm at the end of the customs line while dozens of Afghan men very slowly load their amazingly massive suitcases, crates, jugs of liquids and rugs through the x-ray machine. By the time my tiny suitcase and I reached the machine the customs official seemed to look at me as if to say "where's your massive jug?"
The ride from the airport features a whole lot of machine gun nests and a few Humvee, all manned by Afghan military. Overhead a Blackhawk helicopter flies by, for some reason I wonder if it is American, I wonder if the pilot is from New Jersey.
Speaking of which, up ahead there are several Jersey barriers and Afghan military with machine guns, the blue sign next to them reads
"Ring of Steel". If you ever want to make your neighborhood sound 100x cooler, put up a sign that reads
"Ring of Steel", a sense of excitement as well as caution came over me. Though it passed fairly quickly as I noticed no one seems to act much different in the Ring of Steel, people walk the streets, figures in Burka's seem to be begging (Is that really what I saw?), and guards stand outside their gates with their machine guns.
After walking through a perfectly beautiful flower garden-court yard, past a pomegranate tree, I'm greeted by the gentlemen at the front desk. "Welcome to Kabul!" I'm handed a form which asks, among other things, for my nationality. As I put the pen to paper I say, "Today I'll be American," making a reference to the fact that I have more than one nationality. Before I could laugh at my own poor excuse for a joke, the gentlemen says with confidence, "Today you are our guest, no matter your nationality, and we are happy you are here, helping our country."
In that moment it didn't seem rehearsed or disingenuous, it just seemed like a man who doesn't judge anyone by where they come from but rather, their commitment to helping others. As I opened the door to my cozy room with a view of a pear tree, I thought to myself: this is a good start.
Note: No photos yet, I'm still not fully aware of when is a good/bad time or where, to photograph.
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