Our compound is located in Shar-i-Now, the relatively ex-pat concentrated part of town. The rugged Kabul terrain, with houses nested along the edge of barren cliffs, is apparent in panoramic appeal from our compound rooftop (and incidentally my penthouse room). North of the compound is “Opium Lane”…the unofficial title for a rather incongruous construction of three-story, fully furnished houses. The disparity in Kabul is painful…tent houses in IDP camps within miles of luxury housing. Incidentally, Kabul is the largest city in the world without a public sewage system and running water, which becomes acutely apparent as the heat rises. (Another security aside…even though this lane my be financed by opium revenue, this does not make it a violent/unsafe to live by. Opium related violence is pretty much isolated to regions (predominately in the south) where it is grown.)
Afghans are (arguably) famed for their resolution on privacy. It is difficult to discern if the demand for privacy is innate, passed down from generations of cultural norms, or if their disclosure is a last attempt to hold onto something that is theirs. For decades, and arguably for centuries, Afghanistan has been a land of invasions and attempted conquers. I am increasingly convinced that the psyche of the occupied is unyielding, and understandably so. Afghans will hold onto what is theirs…be it their tiny garden in the middle of their walled house, in the middle of a country at war…and protect it. Understanding this psyche is paramount as we engage with Afghans on both individual and international levels. In any case…though we can see much of the surrounding blocks from our penthouse, we’ve been specifically instructed not to look down into the Pashtun family’s house/garden in respect for their privacy. (Which I realize may sound like an intuitive conclusion, and consequently I found it quite interesting that our compound manager explicitly pointed this out.)
Butcher lane…as a state-side vegetarian, I have successfully avoided this street so far. Swaying, skinned sheep, however, is impossible to escape while driving through Kabul. I’ll be sure, however, to update on any future butcher adventures... :)





