Tag Archives: experience

Kabul: Home Is Where The Heart Is

As I stare outside my Kabul hotel room at 630 am, I see the morning traffic has just begun. Vehicles pass few and far between, then the bicycles..until there’s a steady flow just a half an hour later. The mountains, an everlasting spectacle, seem unimpressed by the monotonous goings on below them. Standing majestic I can see the snow peaks to my left, Kabul mountain in front of me with homes etched within. I feel at home in this land, not like a stranger. Reminds me that home is not a place, but a feeling. Where I rest my head. Where my heart is. Home is where my story begins..

“Why did you invite me here?”
“Because I love you”.
With those words my defenses crumbled, but my heart still stung from the blows of your earlier confession. Why were you opening up now? No matter your reasons for not telling me before, nothing added up, nothing made sense. Now everything seemed so bitter sweet.

I don’t believe one can ever fully comprehend the energies at work within our hearts, minds and the battles they fight. I knew why I had traveled to Afghanistan, and had been longing to come. I knew exactly why I was there, but when heart and mind are involved in a struggle, things become discombobulated.
My heart continued to sink into a pit of despair as I was left questioning my own intelligence. How is it possible that something unseen can make you feel so deeply? How is it that your sweet words of adoration attempted to revive me afterwards, but failed. Your words stood little chance and quickly succumbed to the weight of my mind’s skepticism. The risk I took to meet you seemed fruitless at this point. Everything mixed with love becomes more complicated. All is fair in love and war, and our love was no exception. The truth was, I had ultimately betrayed you as well, and in such ways you may never know. “Why am I here?” , my mind echoed like a drum beat within a mountain valley.  The answer was found within my heart and my walls relented and soon crumbled, as we embraced in a silent pact to never again speak of the past again.

It’s just past 1pm as my driver sends a text letting me know he has arrived and is waiting. As I leave my suite I’m aware of familiar smiles and greetings as the friendly cleaning staff, alerted by my room departure, vacate their nearby staff room to attend to mine. I’m just as curious about the young boys as they are about me, but I don’t let it show. At times, when I’m present during their room sweep, I catch their curious glances and grins. As I smile in return, we all become aware of the many words left unspoken, being barricaded by tongues of different mothers.  Nevertheless, throughout the ages, language barriers couldn’t prevent eyes from intermingling, sending hidden invitations to engage in different forms of interaction. This, so I’ve been told, is how the sexes here make secret arrangements to meet and engage in (what this society perceives as) morally corrupt practices, of a physical nature.

The night brought little sleep as my stomach proclaimed the invasion of an unfriendly parasite. Loose motion for hours, but I can’t complain,  I have evaded the persistent pain that usually accompanies such stomach infections. I am pleased with myself for bringing Wormwood and Black Walnut tonics to aid in the fight against this unwelcome invasion. I have been drinking them frequently hoping to effectively stunt the parasite infection. Time will tell.
My stomach bubbles and surprisingly grumbles with hunger, but under the circumstances, I opt for a no food approach.. for the time being.
Waiting has never been my forte…
Where are you? My question has once again arisen like deja vu as I await his arrival to my suite. As I sit, I wonder if my shirt is appropriate or not. It doesn’t quite cover my bottom and is slightly see through with it’s yellow cotton and elegant embroidery. I don’t feel comfortable in traditional Afghan clothing, so I was excited when he told me I could wear jeans to the restaurant last evening. Made me feel that much more relaxed.

It’s another day, 8am is early for room cleaning, but who am I to say. As I open the door, my curious eyes are greeted by no less curious stares. I am greeted with “Hi, Good Morning” as I allow their entrance to my already tidy suite. Fresh towels are a welcome. The testosterone in the air is hard to bare and the silence between us, deafening. I try not to make eye contact but find it hard as one of the boys goes out of his way to draw near to me, finding items in close proximity to dust or arrange. I find it sweet and reward them with my smiling glances. One of the boys seems concerned that the other lad’s behavior may be a disturbance, as he stood idly nearby he made attempts to draw the other boy’s attention. Truth be told, I looked forward to seeing them and was a little disappointed when they had days off. They lifted my spirits for the time being and I sensed they felt the same way. We had forged some sort of connection, not knowing one another’s name. So much so, that on the day of check out I looked for them to say goodbye. As fate would have it, they were not around. Who likes goodbyes anyway? Perhaps we shall meet again, in this life or another.

Today was a holiday, Navruz the Persian New Year. I was taken up to where many families and youth were flying kites and enjoying rides. It was a a mountain gathering of fun and festivities, but I was to remain in the vehicle. I grew accustomed to this, it was armored after all, and was a barrier from the multitude of stares and cameras. Even from within the vehicle I was the center of the attention on most drives. How Afghans can spot a foreigner so well is quite impressive. Then again, they’ve been bombarded by foreigners and invaders for long enough to gain this, perhaps… adaptive trait?

“Everyone passing is looking at her”, my friend’s cousin sitting in the back seat mentioned. We in the front had also noticed the craziness of the situation and started laughing in unison. My friend who was driving commented, “This has never happened before with other foreigners, I don’t know why, it’s you..I had told you that you’re beautiful.” That was it. Apparently I was a phenomenon.

Copyright 2015 Niazmina

My Embracement of Women: The Universe Delivers

© 2014 Rebecca Martin
© 2014 Rebecca Martin

Continued from My Sexual Resurgence..

The beauty of womanhood is boundless. Beyond daily mundane activities such as laundry, where our thoughts digress to the wonderment as to how a garment placed in the dryer right side out consistently comes out inside out. Or the everlasting question where could the matching sock have gone? We have within us an innate ability to survive and nurture. Typically the survival nature is combative and predatory where to nurture is something done in meekness. To possess both qualities is something rare and wonderful.

I found myself in the presence of not only adoring men but also some very influential women. As one who rarely attempted, gained or retained any close ties with women, this was a refreshing and uplifting experience. Women who are like-minded and non judgmental towards me are very scarce. Females always come across to me as threatened to some degree. It may very well be my aura and the highly sexual vibe others claim I ooze. I have never completely figured out why some, and yet not all, women feel this way. I do tend to magnetize towards testosterone and make no attempt to conceal who I am, nor do I put on appearances and cater to weaker insecure personalities. Nevertheless, the women I found myself in company with were perfectly suited to my whimsical, and sometimes erratic personality. I cared not what they thought of me, I was simply being me, and no one could stand in my way.

“The beauty of womanhood is boundless.”

One of these women happened to be one of my mother’s friends. We were introduced  within weeks of her separation from her husband and subsequent filing for divorce. Coincidentally, this occurred in the same month I had filed for divorce. Both of our husbands were Fijian and we had both been with our husbands for 13 years, bearing beautiful children as our gifts. This friendship proved to be a strength to us both I believe. We saw eye to eye on most everything and were for the most part, inseparable. We would spend countless weekends together during our corresponding divorce proceedings, sharing our stories of long-suffering and final resolution. Hours filled with laughter, wine, vodka tonics, in the comfort of her abode or out on the town espousing characteristics of free women. Finding solace in the company of another, a lifeline was born.

“Nevertheless, the women I found myself in company with were perfectly suited to my whimsical, and sometimes erratic personality. I cared not what they thought of me, I was simply being me, and no one could stand in my way.”

This appeared in an unusual manner from what I had grown accustomed to, a woman of like mind rather than a man trying to gain a foot hold. It was refreshing and comforting to realize that I was capable of meeting and establishing long-lasting, meaningful relationships with my dreaded foe: the female species. According to my ex husband, any women friendly with me were lesbians, and all men were only wanting sex. This mentality astounded me and left me questioning all of my friendships at an attempt to gather proof and verification that he was wrong in his conclusion. Was it true that I had nothing to offer? Nothing to bring to the table as far as friendship went? Was I that dull and boring of a person that only my physical appearance could maintain any semblance of desirability? After all the years I had been married and told myself there was more to his determination to stay together, it all became painfully clear that he must be speaking from his own experience with me. If not, how could he be so sure in order to make such a stark statement? This realization cemented in my mind the execution of my break out and emancipation.

“It was refreshing and comforting to realize that I was capable of meeting and establishing long-lasting, meaningful relationships with my dreaded foe: the female species.”

Another such fated friendship came about in such perfect sequence that it had to have also been orchestrated. The Universe saw fit, and delivered. After having an unassisted home childbirth with my last child, I joined an online group on a one a popular social networking sites. It wasn’t long afterwards that I acquired a friend request from a young and attractive woman who was also a member of the group. I was fairly new to the whole idea of unassisted childbirth. Having only researched it for the months of my pregnancy, I was fascinated by the stories and experiences of other liberated women. I accepted the friend request, further sending a message of introduction and questions regarding her experience, and so forth. At the time, I was encountering trouble acquiring a birth certificate because of a bunch of red tape, and knowing of someone who had been through an unassisted childbirth yet managed to obtain the certificate for her child, was encouraging.

“Finding solace in the company of another, a lifeline was born.”

It wasn’t tense or uneasy meeting face to face for we both had a sense of destiny and excitement. Life had indeed delivered and our connection was instantaneous. Following this initial introductory meeting, we frequently got together either at my home or at some vibrant venue where we shared our lives and encouraged each other on our personal journeys. Our feelings of liberation were immense, opportunity limitless. Each time we connected our energy seemed to give off an electrical charge upon contact. Our vision was clearly outlined and expressed freely. Admiration and appreciation flowed and the outcome of our visits were always uplifted spirits.

“Our feelings of liberation were immense, opportunity limitless. Each time we connected our energy seemed to give off an electrical charge upon contact.”

At first glance you can’t always fathom the similarities you may have with another human being without further exploration. Once unearthed, these similarities can become the very stimulant necessary for your own personal development. By witnessing potential in another, you begin to search your own growth and direction and thus begin the blueprint for embarking on projects or personal improvement in whatever shapes or forms they may be. Epiphanies seemed to be imploding within our skulls. Ideas were playing themselves out in our very existence. Things out of our control and previous grasp and attention, due to our circumstantial life placement and lack of experience, were now permeating our existence. Now past and present occurrences displayed depth and reason, having their secrets previously locked away, we had caught a mere glimpse of greater workings.

Workings in our lives that couldn’t be explained as coincidence, chance or luck.

To Be Continued..

Copyright © 2014-2015 Niazmina