Chillin’ In Kabul

This is the first time in 5 years I have been in Afghanistan without security when I go out. My theory is that if I get into a Toyota taxi, I become invisible, especially when compared to sitting in the back of a SUV with a driver and body guard that follows me around. A real side benefit is that, for the first time in a long time, I actually got to interact with Kabul. Among the highlights:

• Having the taxi driver yell at a friend driving another taxi—kind of a Dari 'what's happening' to his friend.
  
• Crossing the street. 'Frogger' was invented after watching people cross the street in Kabul. I decided to wait and not cross between 2 dump trucks. The traffic cop looked at me and called me a big wuss (again, Dari version) and actually half-pushed me in front of an oncoming red Toyota. Luckily the accelerator didn't jam, and I was able to 'run-stop—run like hell' across. I held my arms up in victory upon reaching the other side, looked back, and we both laughed.
  
• Going to 5 ATMs before finding one that worked. To find them, my cabbie just drove along the curb and kept asking people. One kebab cooker actually went inside to ask his boss. Unbelievable.
  
• Sitting down in a restaurant with a Dari/Pashtun-only menu. No English. It is really great to eat places when there are no other damn foreigners hanging out.
  
• Pulling over spontaneously to take pictures of kids scrounging through trash—and having the kids show me their kung fu moves.
  
• Not having every beggar in the street come up to my window—because people in old yellow taxis don't have money, and they don't even see me.
  
• Giving Akim $50 for driving me around all day—more than he would probably make in a week, and having him ask me for more. Afghans are born with a genetic requirement to negotiate—I could have given him a new car and he would have asked for gas money.
  

So I am wrapping up a week in Kabul. It seems normal—but I know better, as the whole damn country is on the verge of disaster.