Summary
Travel provides an exceptional avenue for gaining profound insights into diverse cultures and experiencing the world from a unique perspective. Furthermore, travel blogging enriches this experience by offering a platform for sharing insights and engaging with fellow like-minded travelers.
Recently, during a conversation with Stephen from the Uncharted Backpacker, who had just returned from an intriguing journey across Afghanistan, we learned more about his experiences. Immediately, his eagerness to share his journey inspired us to feature his story.
This article marks the first installment of a five-part series, authored entirely by Stephen, chronicling his time in Afghanistan. Our engagement with his story has been immensely compelling from the outset, and we anticipate that you will find it equally fascinating.
FROM STEPHEN
Why Afghanistan?
My name is Stephen Gollan, from The Uncharted Backpacker. I have recently backpacked across Afghanistan. The choice to visit Afghanistan is often met with skepticism. In response, I share how remarkable my experience was, yet the prevailing perspective tends to focus on negative narratives surrounding incidents of violence, kidnappings, and the ongoing threats affiliated with Taliban activities.
Conversely, there exist individuals who lend me an attentive ear when I recount narratives of this enchanting land. These stories include accounts of lost tribes, ancient cultures, unforgettable hospitality, and landscapes of haunting beauty that captivated my heart. Even now, the mere mention of Afghanistan ignites a sense of excitement within me.
This narrative serves as a brief overview of my travels through Afghanistan. One guiding principle I adopted was to avoid flying unless absolutely essential, as I sought to experience the country as the locals do. While this added an element of risk and complexity to my journey, it was a deliberate choice. In addition, I aimed to immerse myself in local life by staying with residents whenever possible, facilitating daily interactions.
With courage and determination, I set aside media portrayals and the apprehensions expressed by others, embracing the journey ahead.
First Stop: Mazar E-Sharif
Navigating the Uzbekistan border at Termiz presents a daunting experience. Initially, one is subjected to questioning by Uzbekistan officials; after a thorough inspection of belongings, passage is granted. Upon entering the Afghan side, one is greeted by a striking reality—traditionally attired Afghan men and women, some visibly affected by hardship, imploring at the border.
I organized a taxi for $15 to Mazar E-Sharif, a long journey marked by encounters with American Humvees equipped with .50 caliber machine guns observing the roadway. The atmosphere was charged, amplified by the whir of Apache helicopters overhead. Eventually, like a mirage, I caught sight of Mazar’s Shrine of Hazrat Ali, with its resplendent emerald domes emerging from the arid desert.
My taxi dropped off my travel companion, Matt, and me at the Barat Hotel. While the hotel is now worn down, remnants of its former grandeur are visible beneath the layer of dust. Setting out from the Barat, I experienced my first authentic encounter with Afghanistan, enveloped in a vibrant scene of blue burqas and men adjusting their turbans, the aroma of kebabs wafting through the air, the call to prayer echoing over loudspeakers, and herds of goats navigating past military vehicles.
My first stop was a local tailor. I sought traditional attire, not only to blend in but also to foster greater respect from the locals. The tailor, fluent in English, was delighted to assist and humorously took my measurements while serving me customary Afghan green tea. Within a few hours, he had crafted my outfit, enhanced through the sharing of insightful stories about Afghanistan.
In my new clothing, I paid a visit to the shrine of Hazrat Ali, renowned for its stunning blue domes and elegant white marble façade. The site was breathtaking, frequented by pilgrims engaging in worship amid the delicate flutter of white pigeons overhead.
Following my exploration of the shrine complex, I made the acquaintance of a relative of one of my Canadian friends. His name was Mohamed. Born in Afghanistan, he relocated to California as a young adult in search of better opportunities. Upon completing his studies, he returned to Afghanistan to work for the United Nations as a translator. This individual, who had the option to reside elsewhere, chose to return—a testament to the pride that many Afghan people feel towards their homeland. Over a meal of qabili pilau (Afghan spiced chicken and rice), Mohamed and I made plans to visit Balkh and nearby Samangan together over the coming days.
To be continued in part 2 tomorrow… (but here’s a little sneak peek below)
