This morning I woke up wit the sound of Fajir Adhan, It was the first time that I had ever been in a country that called the Adhan in the open like this. At this point I realized where I was finally, a world very unlike my own in soo many ways, yet familiar in which it broadcasted, things that were with in me for so long. I sat on a desk ear perked up against a open window and listened to the different styles of Adhan coming from each corner of Kabul. In my thought I imagined that this one cadence as it is called the same way all over the world would be the one constant that would be heard if visited by other worlds listening in to our sounds.  I took my shower and connected myself with the creator, sadly my first Fajir in Kabul.

After a relaxing center, my mind was able to think and was inspired to see beauty as it usually does. Often in these times I look to nature first, and revel in the artistry of the creator. I walked to the balcony  and looked at the mountains, jagged peeks towered one after the other, reaching higher into the skies, one after the other.  The snow covered the tallest one and it made since why this place had been and will be a fortress for so long.

My eyes drew closer into the city, as I noticed a city designed much like it’s terrain. Walls upon walls, layered one after another behind each-other. There were walls to protect homes, walls to protect doors, walls to protect streets and alleys, even walls to protect walls. If one were walking through the city without this birds eye view, one would be hard-pressed to even see a dwelling. Barbed wire acted as deterrents on every wall, every window and even on street corners. It was like an ornament and became a part of the environment.

I am getting use to seeing the guns, the watch towers and turret posts. They come and go in my mind and are just a part of the city now. Have to get around that. There is a love hate relationship between myself and guns. Seen too many things and and have needed one too many times.

I reflect back to the past few days here, following my friend Salar around and having traveling conversations, getting to know Supun. It is quite nice to travel with people, I have always been alone in my travels. Thinking that most would not like to take the chances that I would or maybe they would take too many. This is a good group, a nice balance.

I sat in a class with 8 students, Afghan children about 15 to 18, eager to learn tabla, drums made from steel or teek I believe.  I have always been a fan of the tabla, the Indian tabla as well as the North African. I through on my headset, turned on my fresh microphone on my camera. The sounds made by those instruments are amazing. I have never heard anything like a Tabla is why I have always been so fascinated by it. The sound… to me, is like being under water at times, and others you’re soaring through the clouds. That instrument invokes so many feelings.

The students so eager to learn, some giving up a chance to leave Afghanistan, because they would not have a teacher in whatever country they were going to. Coming to school on holidays just to get a chance to be with a visiting teacher. Listening to their stories what they liked.

I can’t wait to the real first day of school is here.