Disir
Platinum Member
- Sep 30, 2011
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Report after report points out rising civilian casualties in Afghanistan. Insurgents overrun districts and rural areas, forcing people to flee; most of them to the cities. But even in the capital, Kabul, the Taliban (and more recently also the self-declared Islamic State) frequently conduct suicide attacks. News footage from the aftermath of such attacks shows dead bodies lying on debris-strewn streets between severely damaged or destroyed houses. Watching and reading the news, Kabul seems to be more lethal war zone than city.
That’s not how Kabul, my home for almost three years, appears to me.
Many might think that as a foreigner, I am protected from the daily life of normal Afghans and its alleged dangers. Most foreigners in Kabul, after all, live in large compounds, shielded by massive concrete blast walls and guarded by myriads of armed men. And the few times they leave the shelter of their compounds, they are driven in armored cars and wear flak jackets. Not all foreigners can afford such high security measures though. But even the ones that can’t usually take special taxis for foreigners. The streets, they say, are too insecure.
I am not like this.
I don’t live in a highly secured compound. When I move around town, I usually walk. Only if it is too far will I take a car, and then certainly not an armored one or one of the expensive taxis for foreigners. I almost exclusively use mutar-i laini, the local version of public transport, which are simply cars and minibuses that drive fixed routes and are shared with random other passengers who hop in and out along the way for a fraction of the fare (usually 20 Afghani, about $0.30, per person). I don’t eat in guarded, expensive restaurants as other foreigners do. I choose tiny, shabby local places, or carts selling food in the street. I live more or less like an average Afghan. So I dare to say that I have a pretty good image of the daily life in Kabul.
And I have never – not even once – been afraid, let alone feared for my life, in the Afghan capital.
What Living in Kabul Is Really Like
It's an interesting read written by a male living in Kabul.
That’s not how Kabul, my home for almost three years, appears to me.
Many might think that as a foreigner, I am protected from the daily life of normal Afghans and its alleged dangers. Most foreigners in Kabul, after all, live in large compounds, shielded by massive concrete blast walls and guarded by myriads of armed men. And the few times they leave the shelter of their compounds, they are driven in armored cars and wear flak jackets. Not all foreigners can afford such high security measures though. But even the ones that can’t usually take special taxis for foreigners. The streets, they say, are too insecure.
I am not like this.
I don’t live in a highly secured compound. When I move around town, I usually walk. Only if it is too far will I take a car, and then certainly not an armored one or one of the expensive taxis for foreigners. I almost exclusively use mutar-i laini, the local version of public transport, which are simply cars and minibuses that drive fixed routes and are shared with random other passengers who hop in and out along the way for a fraction of the fare (usually 20 Afghani, about $0.30, per person). I don’t eat in guarded, expensive restaurants as other foreigners do. I choose tiny, shabby local places, or carts selling food in the street. I live more or less like an average Afghan. So I dare to say that I have a pretty good image of the daily life in Kabul.
And I have never – not even once – been afraid, let alone feared for my life, in the Afghan capital.
What Living in Kabul Is Really Like
It's an interesting read written by a male living in Kabul.