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Architecture in Afghanistan seems to rise out of the land
itself. We stayed in a mud-colored compound in Kandahar
during our stay. The compound also serves as the headquarters
for Afghans for Civil Society.
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With us were Sarah and her housemates: the graceful, brooding
project engineer, Abdullah; the houseboy, Safulah, who
served us breakfast; a man who tended the cows; and the
guard, who stood at the gate with a Kalishnikov.
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We shared the compound with many cows, an aggressive sheep
and a dog. One black cow was a celebrity of sorts. Her
previous owner had been Mullah Omar, the Taliban's spiritual
leader. So we drank milk from Mullah Omar's cow.
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We slept on cushions on the floor. At daybreak, dust would
be kicked up by a parade of multicolored buses, and soon
there would be so much dust in the air it would nearly
block out the sun.
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The houseboy Safulah and a guard are relaxing in the compound.
Safulah was hoping to resume his education, and sometimes
we'd see him studying an old textbook.
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NEXT: BREAKING BREAD
PREVIOUS: UNDER FIRE
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