This year marks the fourth year that I have not been at “home” for Christmas. “Home” being defined as at my parents house. Last year was Istanbul, the two years before that were California. It was my first Christmas here in Kabul and was low-key, but good. Interestingly enough I was able, in three days, to participate in three of the “worlds” here. I call them worlds because depending on who you are and who you work for your experiences here can be drastically different. Oh yeah, it was also my first “white” Christmas in a few years, at least, the first one I can remember. It started snowing on the afternoon of the 23rd and did not stop until the morning of the 26th. The picture was taken late afternoon of the 24th.
I should describe the “world” I’m most involved in now. That of a business/government employee/manager. During Christmas it doesn’t exist, literally. Just about every expatriate employee, embassy worker, or whatever leaves for the week before, week of, and week after Christmas. So nothing happens. It’s quiet. All the Christmas parties are over by 14 December… I guess that would be the fourth world present here, but right now it isn’t.
On the 23rd my little Odyssey began. It was the next to last work day for the week and we’d had a little more productive than usual day (remember the business people are all gone so it’s been slow). That and I’d managed to find some tin foil for the Qailoon after about 2 weeks. (If you don’t know what a Qailoon, is look up Hookah on Google) We usually crank it up and hang out after hours about once a week or so, mostly on our last work day of the week. The time started out as a normal occation of me and 2 or 3 Afghans hanging out and talking about Christmas coming up and various other mundane workplace topics. Soon however, my Djimbe (it’s an African drum) and a couple flutes (Irish pennywhistles) that I carry around were broken out. One of the guys that works with me is pretty good on the Afghan flute and picked up quickly on the pennywhistle. So I threw out a local-ish beat on the Djimbe and we proceeded to jam out!! We played for an hour or so going back and forth with different melodies and rhythms the whole time working on the Qailoon. It’s rare enough to find an American musician with whom you can just start playing and “know” what’s coming next (I’ve played with exactly two, it’s THAT rare), it’s a dream come true to be able to do that with an Afghan friend. I’m not sure who was more into it that night. Me, him, or the guy who was listening… I’ve been hoping to get a chance to jam like that for a long time, it really is a dream come true.
The 24th saw my Odyssey continuing as I attended a Christmas Eve chapel service on one of the local U.S. Military posts. It’s only a few blocks from my house so I took a walk over there a little bit earlier than the service was supposed to start. After some (mis)communication on how I would get in, (involving two civilian contractor friends, a Marine Captain, and an Army Colonel) I finally got in and headed over to the chapel. By the time I (and my Col. friend) made it to the service it was already underway. We opened the doors and went into a large metal frame and canvas garage/gym. It was filled with men and women, uniformed in mottled brown and digital green all singing together “Hark the Herald.” With weapons in racks along the walls, and holsters dangling from jackets and legs, these service-members were still taking the time to remember the coming of Christ to Earth. Their schedules never let up, and many could have been sleeping, eating, or at the PX buying last minute gifts for buddies and family members, but they weren’t. They were singing and praying and even, for one American, getting baptized on that very special night.
Christmas Day!! A time for family, friends, a special church service in the morning, a huge lunch, and…. guard duty?? Well if you’re a Marine (like my friend), or volunteered for it at the church on Christmas Day, then yeah… guard duty. I volunteered for it. Mainly cause I didn’t really feel like going to church on Christmas Day, but also because it freed up somebody who DID want to go to church on Christmas Day to go. That and the usual security was an absolute joke, so I figured I could at least see if my ideas would work for the process (they did, and fortunately we didn’t have to put any of the GOTH plans into effect). So my first Christmas Morning in Kabul was spent at the gate of the church and on the wall watching the streets as the snow fell. I loved every minute of it! After that I got to join a family for a thoroughly American Christmas Day. Complete with PS2 playing, Hot Cider, Tree, a big lunch of roast, sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, bread, PIE (!!), and an hour or so of ear-breakingly loud jamming on a drum set with an electric guitar player! Though there weren’t any blueberry muffins, it was still a great time of just chillin’ out with a family and having a good time. I even got to unwrap a present! A pair of really warm socks. Now before you roll your eyes, consider: the snow, the temperature of a city at 6,500 feet above Sea Level (higher than Denver) a week after the Winter Solstice, and the complete lack of central heating in the EN-TIRE country. So… not so bad eh? I didn’t think so either.
