Mazar-e-Shariff

There were 5 of us crammed into the Toyota SUV (a driver, a bodyguard and 3 expats) for what we hoped would be a 6 hour drive to Mazar to see the famous blue mosque of Hazrat Ali (peace be upon him). The mosque also contains a shrine that is rumoured to have his remains - apparently some of his followers feared that his body would be mutilated so they moved the remains to Mazar. It is a popular destination during Navroz - the first year after the fall of the Taliban saw 1 million people make the journey.

The curvy mountain road ahead

The drive took us out of Kabul and as we drove there was an immediate transformation from dusty and dirty to gorgeous greenery and crisp, clean air. We drove along mountains and rivers, windows open and classic indian songs blasting. It was an exhilirating experience. We passed the remains of several Soviet-era tanks, buses and abandoned taxis in various stages of decay. The road twisted and turned over mountains and we drove through the Salang pass - a giant series of tunnels built as a gift by the Soviets. The tunnels are stiffling; the dust fills them like fog, making it feel like an underwater journey. Small circles of light pierce through the tunnel like bullets. All I can see is the Canadian flag on the car in front of me. Delays are common in these tunnels - a bus load of people were actually killed when they were trapped in the tunnel during winter and left the car on to heat themselves and were poisoned by carbon monoxide.

Unfortunately, my stomach required us to stop frequently - often just on the side of the road, behind low walls, shrubs, or pretty much whatever we could find. One time we stopped near a giant pit which afforded me some privacy...till a group of goats crashed my party! I decided throwing the toilet paper at them was a bad idea so I had to make menacing sounds till they left me alone.

We were stopped at a checkpoint only once and made it to Samandgan where we stopped for lunch. We ate qabli and naan in the traditional way - seated and from a shared plate. I was told that I should pour the tea without flair, as my attempts to pour tea from a few feet up was insulting. (oops!) After lunch our car wouldn't work so we had a group of men push us down the road so we could get a rolling start.

When we finally made it to Mazar (10 hours later) we went to the guest house to shower before viewing the mosque. There were two types of rooms - the first was simple and clean, 3 single beds and an A/C. The second had a dining table, couches, tv, a fridge and other appliances and an exercise bike. Can you guess which was reserved for expats?

The mosque was breathtaking and gorgeous. We had to wait till the azaan finished before being allowed into the shrine. We waited near the gate with women in burqas. I felt out of place and exposed and stared at the floor. Two children played with toy guns and shot each other in front of the shrine. One pointed the gun at his mothers face. 'Bang mommy, you're dead.' It was eerie and unsettling. The shrine doors opened and we entered, pressing our faces against the shrine which was filled with incense and beautiful white doves - said to contain holy souls. An Afghan tradition is to take a kercheif and tie a knot in it with a prayer and leave it in the shrine.

After praying we sat outside the mosque in the beautiful adjoining gardens. We were assailed by begging children. They grabbed my hands, my shoulders and one sang verses of the quran in my ear. I ignored them - letting them touch me but keeping my hands by my sides to protect my pockets. I realized that the best way to be left alone by beggars is to simple ignore them. It is painful and makes me feel terrible - but I try and offer prayers for their souls. There are very few other solutions - taking out any money results in a brawl and hardly empowers them. One child grabs the bracelet on my wrist, and I am content to let her have it but she simply plays with it and holds my hand, following me now.

We sit in the garden till nightfall - the mosque is then lit up like a Kabul wedding hall. The garden is filled with bright camels and a glowing Ali marks the top of the mosque. We feast on qabli, mantoux (a meat dumpling covered in tomoto sauce and yogurt), fresh almond ice cream, shir pata (a Mazar sweet), nabat (crystalized sugar) and almond banana and mango milk shakes. The food was the best I have had yet. In the morning we grab another round of food before embarking on the return journey home through the inspiring mountains of Afghanistan. Since I have arrived I see a lot of similarities between Afghanistan and Canada - the climate, the people, even the landscape is reminiscent of the drive between Vancouver and Edmonton - although this one definitely has a leg up and ranks as one of the best road trips I have ever been on.

The Roshan logo on one of the few street signs.