Greetings!
I arrived in Kabul last Friday, to be greeted by three times the security I've previously experienced at the airport. My luggage made it, thereby inciting the first battle. There are at least 5 bag handlers for each passenger likely to request help. I stand back and observe while the tug of war over my luggage unfolds. Forty five chaotic minutes later, I found Raymond, hundreds of yards away, where greeters are corralled. It required two different sets of bag handlers to reach Raymond. I don't have the energy or temperament after 35 hours of traveling to argue. Besides, who wants to start the day as an "ugly American". I then learned that on Sunday there would be an anniversary celebration of the mujahideen's seizing control of Kabul. Armed soldiers were everywhere, including at least 30 at the two checkpoints leading to our hotel. Our hotel is, according to sources, on the hit list. But, it has great showers and Western toilets. You know more about the attempt on President Karzai's life than I. The question I am asked most often is whether I'm afraid? The answer is no. I have a defensive mechanism that includes profiling. I look for bearded men wearing loose fitting clothes, that could conceal guns or explosives. This narrows the field down to 75% of those on the street. I smile at whoever looks my way. Only a crazy man would be that engaging. I have adopted the persona of a village idiot. That worked in the cowboy and Indian movies I saw as a child. Worked then and seems to be working now.
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