BAZAARS

I was a foreigner in this strange land and I loved visiting the various bazaars in Kabul. My favorite ones were the tea and raisin bazaars. There were dozens of different kinds of teas and raisins to behold, and the colors of the raisins and teas were a tapestry of life itself. And the aromas! How sweet and exotic they were!

On one visit to the bazaars {I believe I had just left the bird bazaar} I was walking along a narrow path where some excavating was being done on the local "sewer" system. This sewer system was basically a very shallow and narrow underground network of channels constructed from bricks. It was a very primitive system. I would often complain to Touryalai about the bad sanitation conditions of his country, but I then realized after awhile that it did no good for me to complain, and I could see that it embarrassed him whenever I spoke about it, and so I didn't mention it again. Anyway, as I was walking I felt a hand hit the right backside of my waist. I had been keeping my eyeglass case in a back pocket. I quickly spun around and saw two Afghan men, and I angrily asked where my case was. They both shrugged, but then my case fell at the feet and under the peran of one of them, and they walked away. I had always kept my wallet in my breast pocket, or in the front pocket of my pants, but these Afghan men probably thought that it was my wallet that they had seen. This was the only time I had had any problem like this during my year in Kabul, where I bicycled, walked, and rode the buses everywhere.

Another time I had gone to the bazaar to buy my stove. Touryalai came with me. The stove bazaar was a busy and noisy place of ceaseless tapping. I finally decided on the stove I wanted, and I haggled over the price. (In Afghanistan, you must always haggle over the price of everything.) Then Touryalai spoke to the shopkeeper. Touryalai told me, "Let's go!", and we went to another shop. I told Touryalai, who was a little upset, that the shopkeeper was only "trying to get our goat." Touryalai abruptly stopped and said, "But, Monty, we don't have a goat!" I explained to him that it was just an American expression. But he remained puzzled as we wandered off to the next shop. English could be a very strange language.

It was also during this shopping day that I realized I had to stop cursing in front of Touryalai, who repeated every word I said so that he could learn English. "Touryalai, I shouldn't say these words because they are bad, and you must not say them either." I tried my hardest not to swear any more.

I finally got my stove, and proudly installed it in my bedroom, which also served as my front room and dining room. My stove only weighed a few pounds, but it was very versatile. Besides keeping my house warm, it also had top "burners", and even an oven. I used to make pizza, spreading my vegetable ingredients, cheese, and sauce on top of some nan. It was scrumptious. I was happy, warm, and glad to be alive in what had become for me an exotic foreign country.