Family & friends often ask me about the trip from Afghanistan to Texas so I thought I’d explain. Of course this only applies to civilians like contractors; the military uses a completely different route.

First you have to get out of Afghanistan. You can’t go on Expedia or anything like that to get tickets; you have to go to a local agency or airline office. Most people fly to Dubai for the first leg, then make their next flights that were booked online. There’s only one airport to fly in & out of—the Kabul Afghanistan International Airport, or KAIA (pronounced like the automaker Kia). This in itself is an adventure.

First you enter the outer guarded gate to the airport and all traffic is directed to an area where the driver is questioned and the vehicle searched. Travelers must remove luggage from the vehicle and take them into a small office where they are x-rayed and often searched. Sometimes you are patted down and there is a separate enclosed area where women are patted down by female inspectors. Often the inspectors will find something harmless in your luggage and claim it could be used as a weapon. Five dollars takes care of that.

Then you load the luggage back into the vehicle for a short trip to one of the outer parking areas. Unless you have some sort of diplomatic or VIP pass, you can’t just drive to the terminal. Unload in the parking lot and carry your luggage about 100 yards through at least two more checkpoints to get to the terminal entrance. Along the way there are vendors, money-changers, beggars, taxi drivers, and hoards of people waiting for arriving passengers. They wait in the open parking lot because without an airplane ticket you can’t get within 50 yards of the terminal.

Once at the terminal, your bags are searched again and you are patted down. They let you in and you’re greeted by dozens of baggage handlers offering to assist and even take you to the front of the line—for a fee, of course. Inside it’s loud, dirty, and disorganized. Other people are motioning to you to have your luggage shrink-wrapped or banded—for a fee, of course. Stand in line for your ticket and go through another x-ray and search before you can go upstairs through customs and into the waiting area.

The waiting area is small, crowded, and the bathrooms are horrific. Planes are never on schedule, so you have to check in at least two hours early in case the pilot decides to board before the scheduled time. Be sure your connecting flight in Dubai is tomorrow morning, because there is no guarantee what time you’ll arrive. Last time I was there, out the window I could see snipers on the rooftop.

Finally your flight is announced and everyone crowds down a slim corridor outside to awaiting buses for a short trip across the tarmac to your plane. Off the bus and into a line where border police again check your tickets and passport. Women, especially women with children and women traveling alone, are escorted to the front of the line. Interesting thing, flight attendants will rearrange seating on the plane. Unrelated Afghan men & women are not allowed to sit next to each other. It’s a Muslim thing.

There are only a few commercial airlines that fly out of Kabul. Actually, it is more correct to say that there are only a few commercial airlines flying out of Kabul that are allowed to land in many other countries. Mainly because their maintenance is not usually up to western standards.

In the air, at first the view of the rugged and often snow-capped Afghan mountains is breathtaking. Once into cloud level, you settle in for the three hour flight. The in-flight meal is halaal. A halaal meal is one prepared according to strict Muslim protocol. I don’t know exactly what that means, but think of it as being similar to a kosher meal (meat has to be slaughtered/prepared a certain way, certain ingredients are used, etc.)

The Dubai International Airport is huge. There are three terminals. Flights from Kabul, the former Soviet Union, Iran and charter flights all arrive at Terminal 2. From there, you have to take a taxi to Terminal 1. I often get a room overnight if there’s enough time between flights, or go to a mall and catch a movie (or a hotel bar), or sometimes straight to Terminal 1. Terminal 3 is new and strictly for Emirates.

As far as I know, there’s only one direct flight from Dubai to the US and it’s a Delta flight to Atlanta. I usually fly American Airlines which means I go through London.

Interesting story about my trip through London one time. There are two airports in London; Heathrow and Gatwick. Once my itinerary had me landing in Heathrow and departing in Gatwick. Never having seen London before, I decided to take this route because I thought I’d at least get to ride from one city to another and see some sights. However, not only was the bus ride expensive (about $60), but the bus ride is down a highway and not very scenic at all. A few farms and commercial establishments, but we didn’t even go through a city. What a waste of time and money.

To leave one airport and go to another for international flights, you have to go through customs both arrival and departure. Not a big deal, I thought. However, at Gatwick while I was in line going through customs, I came to a young agent who was clearly new to the job. He checked my passport and upon seeing that I came from Afghanistan he became obviously nervous. He told me he’d have to talk to his supervisor and asked me to wait. I could see the two of them talking and looking cautiously my way. Finally the young lad walked up to me and whispered, “Sir, I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but considering where you’re coming from…” as he quickly opened and closed my passport at waist-level and off to the side so only he & I could see “…we’ll allow you into the terminal but you’ll have to be searched before boarding the plane.” I almost laughed but instead leaned into him and told him in my best conspiratorial manner that I understood.

I lounged around the duty-free store for a while and ambled to the gate where, to my surprise, the same young man was waiting, with his supervisor observing from a short distance. He asked me to remove my jacket and boots as I placed my carry-on on the table. He so delicately looked through my bag that I had an almost irresistible urge to yell BOOM! but I contained myself. Then he proceeded to pat me down. Keep in mind that I had recently been patted down almost a half dozen times by tough combat-hardened Afghan soldiers and police. In comparison, this was foreplay. Then the supervisor said they’d have to take my boots & bag and put them through x-ray again, and asked me to please wait. I found a seat next to another shoeless and bagless guy. I asked him where he was coming from and he said, “Syria.”

I don’t think I’ll fly through Gatwick again.

Overall, the trip from Dubai to Dallas takes about twenty hours. Add in the total time from Kabul, overnight in Dubai, and the time difference, and the whole trip takes a little over two days. I gain a day from Kabul to Dallas and lose a day going the other way. Takes about two days to overcome the jetlag. Luckily I only have to do this one more time…

But that’s another story…

Out.

Just got back from vacation in Dallas. Like last time, I ate too much and drank too much, enjoying the cleanliness, safety, and abundance of a civilized society.

Pics are here. They start with some guys at my house after a trip to the gun range to shoot my M4gery. Then my Mom’s birthday, when Julie & I took her to Maggiano’s. A few pics from dinner at Daron & Leah’s house, mostly pics of her delicious homemade pecan pie. Lastly, pics from a party at my cousin Monica’s bar Canuck’s in Lewisville (and Shane’s car made it home that night!).

I also took Julie to the gun range to shoot my Taurus 9mm and Ruger.38 revolver. Had Thanksgiving dinner with my family, and showed my 5-year old nephew Brendan how to stuff a whole piece of pie in his mouth. Julie & I had a great evening one night grilling steaks and drinking wine. Went to the Luther’s one night and drank way too much. Went to the hospital to see Diane’s mom Alice who is making a miraculous recovery from a stroke. Took Digger to Petsmart and put him on the scale to learn he is now 81.6 pounds. Did a few chores around the house but didn’t get to everything on Julie’s list.

When my final flight from Dubai to Kabul arrived, I called the office for a ride. Dave Bremer came to get me, but was delayed because of a suicide bombing on the road to the airport. Yep, I’m back.

Just got back from a short vacation in Dubai. MPRI encourages us to take leave and get out of Afghanistan every ninety days or so, and I intend to take advantage every time.

Tuesday, 4/17/2007

Worked until about noon, then Dana drove me to the Afghanistan airport in Kabul. Had to go through a security checkpoint before entering the airport where they frisked us & the driver, and inspected my luggage. Then, amazingly enough, we were passed through to Lot 1. There are three parking lots at the airport, numbered from closest to farthest, 1 to 3. Normally ordinary folks are only allowed into Lot 3, where they have to drop off or wait for passengers. Lot 3 is unpaved, unmarked, and surrounded by barriers and concertina wire. I carried my luggage into the airport and had to pay about $20 in tips (bribes) to get through ticketing and into the waiting area.

Funny thing about Ariana Afghan Airlines, we were seated by nationality and sex. Whenever possible, they try to seat the foreigners together and the women together.

I saw someone on the flight that I thought I recognized, but couldn’t quite place. Then I noticed he was with two guys carrying TV cameras with CNN tags. He was a reporter who’s name still escapes me, but I’ll figure it out and edit this later.

Noticed some scraping and wobbling noises during take-off that made me think there was a suspension problem with the landing gear, but we landed safely at Dubai International Airport so that’s someone else’s problem now.

Got to the hotel, the Arabian Courtyard Hotel & Spa, and unloaded. Had a few beers with some Spaniards from Pamplona at the hotel bar, a man and his Mom. I asked if he ever ran with the bulls and he sheepishly said yes. Then Mom told me that she would never allow him to because it was too dangerous, but one day she was looking in the newspaper and there he was, running from the bulls. Bad boy.

Then I went to pickup Julie from the airport. Her flight was three hours late so I got to hang out with Arabs, Indians, Pakistanis, and a myriad of other nationalities I can only guess at. Finally she arrived and we went to the hotel. At this point, the daily journal ends due to mature content…

Wednesday, 04/18/2007

We treated ourselves to 80-minute massages in the hotel spa, and walked across the street to the Dubai Museum. The museum is an old fort in the heart of old Dubai. They had displays of how Dubai used to be, mostly poor Arabs living in houses made of palm branches. Fish and dates were staples of their diets. The primary industry was pearls, before oil was discovered in the sixties. The museum was informative and entertaining.

We also found this neat little art gallery. Mostly paintings, all of the art was, of course, of the middle east.

That night we went to the Western Steakhouse at the Crowne Plaza Hotel. We had a nice bottle (two bottles, actually) of Merlot, escargots sautéed with butter & garlic, I had a juicy t-bone steak and Julie had a rib-eye and lobster tail. It was delicious. Then we hit the hotel bar and closed it down.

Thursday, 04/19/2007

Low-intensity day. Not only was Julie wiped out from the time change, but we were both nursing hangovers from last night’s activity. We mostly stayed in the room and enjoyed each other’s company. We did venture up to the hotel pool for a few adult beverages, but not any farther than that.

Friday, 04/20/2007

The plan was to go to the beach this day. We were up and getting dressed, I bent over to tie my shoe and got a terrible, stabbing pain in my back. I don’t have a history of back problems, but I must have twisted just the wrong way because it hurt like Hell. We had the Desert Safari and BBQ Dinner scheduled for that night, but moved it to Sunday and scheduled a dinner cruise instead. The hotel was very close to Dubai Creek, which is really a large inlet from the Arabian Gulf. We got on a boat called a Dhow, cruised up the creek, had a delicious dinner, and generally enjoyed the views of Dubai at night from the creek. It really is a beautiful and interesting city. At dinner, we were introduced to Omm’Ali, which is a traditional Egyptian Bread and Butter Pudding.

Saturday, 04/21/2007

Had the Dubai City Tour planned for this day. Luckily for us, because of the tour company’s timing/bookings, we got out our own van and tour guide. A lovely woman from Sri Lanka was our tour guide and a surly dark-skinned man from Eritrea was our driver. We saw most of the city while she pointed out sites like palaces and other attractions, including the Sheik’s palace. While we weren’t allowed to go into the Sheik’s palace grounds, the entrance is a tourist attraction. Beautiful landscaping and lots of peacocks. Part of the tour was stopping at a spice market and the gold souk. “Souk” means market. Gold is relatively inexpensive in UAE and sold by the weight. I dropped some serious cash on a ring for Julie.

Finally made it to the beach. We wanted to go to the Burj Al Arab Hotel, which is a landmark multi-million dollar hotel built on a man-made island in the Gulf, and shaped like a giant sail. Rooms there go for $2,000 to $7,000 per night. But non-guests need a reservation at the restaurant and specific attire to get in. So we settled for Jumeriah public beach instead. Nothing particularly noteworthy there, but I took a nap and got sunburned while Julie walked the beach. On the way back to the hotel we stopped at Harley-Davidson of UAE and got some t-shirts.

After the beach, we decided to see a movie. Now keep in mind that I am a pseudo-movie buff and for the last three months all I’ve seen is either grainy old re-runs on Afghan TV, or poorly focused pirated movie DVDs from the bazaar. So dammit I’m going to the movies. We went to the Emirates Mall which has an indoor ski slope, had a drink in a swank new age bar, did some window shopping and people watching, and saw 300. Not too complicated of a plot, but the visual effects were stunning.

Sunday, 04/22/2007

Today is the day we rescheduled the Desert Safari and BBQ Dinner. But it didn't start until later in the day so we had some time to walk around and do more sight-seeing. Then back to the hotel and I scheduled another massage for my aching back while Julie went to the pool. At least that's what I thought...but first she walked over to that art museum we found earlier and bought a very cool painting for me. It was a scene with a mosque that we could see from our hotel room window, only it was from the opposite viewpoint--from the creek.

Later our driver picked us up for the Desert Safari. It started out with “sand bashing” which was four-wheeling on the dunes. I really didn’t expect too much, but it was a blast! We were picked up in a Toyota Land Cruiser with a roll bar. We stopped to get another couple & their beautiful 5-year old daughter. They were from Italy and only Dad spoke English so he did all the translating. We drove out to the dunes and learned that our driver was the senior driver for the company and trained the other drivers. He took us up & over progressively bigger dunes and performed maneuvers that were breathtaking. At times I just knew he was going to kill us all but he made it look simple.

Then we stopped on a high dune next to some rock outcroppings and watched the sunset. The rocks were purple, and light. I’m guessing it was a sort of lava from an ancient volcano or something.

After the sunset, we drove to a site set up like an ancient Arab settling. There were some camels to ride, and Julie (International Woman of Mystery), rode hers like a pro. Then we went inside. There were different stations set up: first we had some fried dates, then found the bar and ordered some drinks (I didn’t expect that!), and Julie got a Henna tattoo on her hand. We then had some appetizers. I don’t know what it was exactly, it was like a goat meat and Hummus burrito, but it was good. Then we were seated on rugs & pillows at low tables for the buffet dinner. Rice, vegetables, Hummus, bread, lamb, chicken, beef, and more Omm’Ali. Then belly dancers came out to perform. They encouraged spectator participation, and the little Italian girl was adorable. Julie (International Woman of Mystery) also wowed the crowd with her undulating.

Monday, 04/23/2007

Julie’s day of departure. We walked down to the creek for some sight-seeing. Happened across another museum, this one was an old Sheik’s house that was restored and most of the museum was a collection of photographs. Browsed around the textile district and went back to the room to pack. Surprisingly, everything Julie brought, plus the stuff we bought, all fit in her suitcases! Went to the airport and, sadly, departed until my next leave. I’m planning to go home in July.

As I left the airport, I asked the taxi driver to take me to the mall with the most movies. Turns out that was the Chinese mall, way across town. The mall was interesting, all in oriental motif with a Chinese junk (boat) in the lobby. I saw The Reaping, which was better then I expected, and then went back to the hotel. The plan was for me to leave the day after Julie so I could see her off at the airport before I left, but I couldn’t get a flight for the 24th, so…

Tuesday, 04/24/2007

Slept in, had breakfast in the hotel, and went to the museum to look for a book about Dubai that Julie wanted. Then I went to the Centre City Mall in Deira. Did some window shopping, ate at a Lebanese restaurant in the food court, bought a watch, and found where the locals buy their clothes. There were several stores tucked away in a corner on the third floor. These we high end stores, men’s & women’s attire in separate stores. In the men’s stores they had those white robes, different colored and patterned headdresses, sandals, and accessories. In the women’s stores they had the black robes, black headdresses, veils, and accessories. Then I went to see Shooter. Incredible plot, but great action.

Monday, 04/25/2007

Up at 3:30 AM to get to the airport and through customs for my 6:30 AM flight back to Afghanistan. This would be a good point to explain that Dubai has two terminals. Most westerners only ever see Terminal 1, which is indicative of a world-class international airport. However, local flights (Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, etc.) arrive/depart at Terminal 2. A little rougher, grungier, and smellier, Terminal 2 started to remind me where I was going back to. We departed on time and I sat next to an individual that smelled like feet.

Interesting arrival. I had a window seat on the port side, so I could see when they rolled the stairs up to the plane. Immediately, about twenty high ranking ANA officers lined up on either side, creating a greeting line. They were laughing and joking and had flowers and photographers. An Afghan in civilian clothes was escorted off the plane to hugs and handshakes. I asked my feet-smelling neighbor if he knew who that was, and he said something about a former commander ruining the country. I asked “Taliban?” and he said, “No, before Taliban.” I asked “Mujahideen?” and he answered yes. Now I’m not sure if his English was that bad or if he was sympathetic to the Taliban, but I thought Mujahideen were the good guys, or at least before many of them turned Taliban.

I also had a revelation. The vehicle that carried me back to Afghanistan wasn’t a Boeing 727; it was a time machine. The last four hours transported me from 2007 back centuries. I was back to the dirty, crowded airport where I had to pay a $5 bribe to a policeman and $3 to a self-appointed porter to get my luggage. I walked out of the terminal past bundles wrapped in burlap which many of the locals were using for luggage, past more security, through dozens of dirty, bearded men, across a dirt “parking lot” bordered by concertina wire. Everything was the color of dirt. Alex was there to meet me, and our driver, Jon, took my bag. We got to the van, donned our body armor, and drove through the dusty, clogged, unpaved streets to our safe house. At the house, I changed into my MPRI uniform and we went back up Jalalabad Road to Depot-1 in time for lunch. Did I really leave or was that a dream?

Pics are posted here.

Out.