... in the middle of thinking about potters and tiles and clay and projects and meetings and friends and trying to communicate and going here and there, there is always something else on my mind as well. The news, as well as people whose opinions i respect because of their years of experience here, are painting quite a worrying picture of the current situation, and the future.
Last time i was here, (i left only 14 months ago), i travelled alone through the Khyber pass twice without feeling worried, and cycled through Kabul (the first time, dressed up as a man -ehem). Now we are not even supposed to walk to the nearest shop, and i feel something different in the air.
The worst thing is obviously all the people here who are affected. Their names don't make the news, and they can't just get on a plane and leave all the troubles behind.
How many times can you survive having all hope extinguished? How many times can you lose loved ones without dying inside? How many times can you leave your home and have everything taken away from you?
And what can we do?
What are we doing?
written on the wall near the Ceramics school here in Kabul)