Blackhawk over Kabul

It is the year 1387 and two Blackhawk helicopters are circling above and just beyond the Serena this morning. Could it be additional security because of the New Years holiday or could there be a problem just beyond our doorstep? We know that the Taliban use these occasions—or any for that matter—to make political statements. Now, a third helicopter just flew over me—a transport chopper with military—and others keep circling through the area. The usual noise of commute traffic and police broadcasting their terse instructions to drivers has been replaced with the din of the choppers. Mirwais calls me and suggests the activity is in the direction of the Presidential Palace and that President Karzai may be heading out. It is a strange and eerie feeling to have so much movement dependent upon security far beyond that which I have ever witnessed.

We have seen the security teams here at Serena change, and additional precautions put in place over our stay. Sharpshooters now grace the rooftops and I can see one outside of my window. Additional men with bayonets gracing their weapons stand guard at the entrance to the hotel, which is across from a park in which Taliban would behead people. Indeed, life in Kabul has many surreal aspects, for on the one hand, daily activity of individuals seems on first blush wholly common: a man guides his cart with sacks of potatoes; a trio of women in burquas with several small children in tow barter with a shopkeeper; a traffic policeman hollers through his megaphone at the cars in the roundabout. And yet, as I spend time here, I come to feel, to see, to taste, and to hear the profound trauma of a people preternaturally accustomed to existence in a war zone.

Beyond our official security, the Serena also serves as long term residence for security teams from a couple of the nations helping to rebuild Afghanistan. Each morning, Mirwais and I observe several men leave the lobby with cases that are holding neither a pool cue nor a Stradivarius violin. As he and I are meeting with a variety of dignitaries ranging from Parliamentarians to Ministers and Chancellors to Presidents, each arrival has its security protocols, varying from the guard asking if we are carrying any weapons to full body searches, fingerprinting, and photographing. Nevertheless, it is Afghan New Year, the country is shut down for three days of celebration, and the Blackhawk over Kabul is a part of the welcoming committee for Dick Cheney, who also, it appears, has dropped in for pilau and kabob.