We are Christ-centered Friends who equip and encourage all people
to respond to God's love and transforming Spirit.

Journey to Afghanistan - Chapter 3, page 10

Kamer Bandi Balq - On the Road to Balq - by Ken Magee

Traveling a road leading northwest out of Mazar-i-Sharif, our van passed slowly between a colorful array of waiting buggy-like vehicles, each with a single horse and driver. These horse-drawn taxis generally had two wooden wheels with iron rims, two seats, a high foldable top, and a trace up each side of the horse attached to its harness. Red, yellow, blue, and green fluffy balls, tassels and plumes decorated the horses and buggies. These appeared to be mostly made of yarn. Tiny bells were included on some of these waiting conveyances. I wondered if the Taliban would have allowed such a gaudy display. The thought also crossed my mind, "I must take a ride in one some day."

A bit further on we saw large groups of people - men, women and children - along the road. Some had carts, some traveled with burros, all hurried in a single direction. Our driver frequently used his horn, slowed, then speeded up. As the throng became very dense the object of their intensity became apparent, a United Nations Food Distribution Center. Giving food to such a large and hardly manageable mass appeared to us a daunting task. Would there be plenty for all?

a large field-like area with high adobe walls. It appeared to be filled with cattle, camels, burros, sheep and goats. Our interpreter explained that this was the market where these animals were bought and sold. It looked like an active place. We saw only men and boys herding and caring for the animals.

Remains of armored vehicles and artillery pieces were common. In one area it appeared that many destroyed vehicles had been gathered together. Ruins of buildings were everywhere. There must have been some intense fighting on this edge of Mazar.

Soon small fields began appearing between areas of adobe houses. Most were encircled by modest mud fences about a meter and a half high. Our driver abruptly slowed and turned into one of these areas. Dr. Bill told us that this was Kamer Bandi Balq.

The alley into this refugee camp was totally unimproved. It was narrow with a surface of slick adobe mud. Two young boys stood watching as we started down the roadway. The larger one wore a dark coat, too big for him, and the smaller a tiny reddish jacket. Their typical baggy Afghan trousers were muddy to the knees. The older boy, probably about seven, smiled shyly and put his arm around the younger. I imagined they were brothers. On our left were brown adobe walls and on our right deep pits from which the building material had been raised. I was glad our van had four-wheel-drive and that our driver drove with some caution.

About two hundred meters down this roadway we abruptly entered a more open area and the camp and its people became evident. To our right small homemade tents left little unoccupied space over several acres. To our left were about fifty people gathered by a vacant adobe building, waiting for our arrival. The village chief emerged from this group and greeted us. He was a little taller than most Afghan men, had a full beard with streaks of gray, wore a turban and the usual Afghan clothes with loose baggy trousers and a long coat. He appeared a man to be respected. Those around him certainly seemed to acknowledge his leadership, but not in a fearful manner.

Chapter 3 - Page 11 - Next Page>>